#ambswrites

[sgt-seabass]

ʙᴜʀɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡɪᴛᴄʜ

✧˚ · . your fairy tale life ends in a slew of blood.

pairing — witch!bucky barnes x fairy!f!reader w/c — 5.3k listening to — ♫burn the witch warnings — no use of y/n, dark elements, body horror, blood and gore, non-con, kidnapping, bondage, chasing, mild violence, use of magic for evil deeds, drugging, dead dove (don’t eat it and complain to me about it) a/n — happy halloween! thank you to @goldylions for beta-ing. all mistakes are my own. shout out to @navybrat817, @rookthorne and @vonalyn for cheering me along with this fic.

Many fairy tales had been read to you as a child, back when you were small and your wings tiny. The forest was a place for fairy kind, as were all biomes. A holy sanctuary for those with magic, where the trees hugged and created a shelter of heaven-spun leaves and branches. An unspoken promise of protection.

It was not a place to be afraid. Not even in the nighttime. For the moon, bathed in the sun's light, provided a wave of peace to the world around it. The deepened hues of a dark forest lit by starlight were a place of magical refuge.

While many normal humans would be afraid, fairy-kind was taught that forests were a place of ancient souls, like the deep sea or the clouds above. And being half-fairy, this was a teaching you received at an early age.

But the forest you woke in was unlike any story you’d heard before. This was uncharted territory.

“Tinker Bell.”

The misty voice startled you awake. Your eyes opened, immediately taking in the deep red sky. There was a blood moon above, unlike any lunar eclipse you’d seen. The red glowed across the sky and your skin, as if you were alight with the malice that lay hidden.

As you sat up, you took in your surroundings. The dark oak and spruce surrounding you stood as noble knights, protecting something from view with its thick foliage. What wanted to remain hidden?

The dirt floor was sodden with woven roots and fallen leaves, dead and decaying. The only sweetness in the air was the subtle whiff of sap, but it was entirely eclipsed by the earthy smell of rotting wood among damp, stale bark.

This was no fairy tale but a place of nightmares.

No animals scurried at the sound of you rising, no birds sang, the area seemingly barren of any life. You didn’t know how you got here but knew you needed to get out. A place like this was not something Mother Nature would have conjured.

Your heart craved the softened, freshly aromatic scent of the forest near your family home. Where the leaves were crisp, and the sun gently kissed the treetops, creating a beautiful shine. You could almost taste the lovely sweetness of the fresh berries you’d find foraging. It was the opposite of how your stomach roiled at the smell of a dying forest.

The red light made it hard to see, darkness covering every inch of land. Looking down at the muddy turf, you wondered if it was blood you stood upon. But a quick swipe through the grime confirmed it was earth. There was an oddness to the scent of the soil. You rolled it between your fingers, pursing your lips. While it was dirt, this was not dirt you would find in the human world. It did not hold the magical properties it usually would.

This meant either you’d been transported to another realm or were stuck in a plane between the layers of earth and heaven.

Your hands patted over the clothes you’d been put in. A green sundress with a red robe tied neatly with a bow around your neck. These weren’t items from your closet. They felt fresh. New.

A sense of danger prickled across your skin, goosebumps rising on your flesh and hairs standing on end. You were not alone here.

The sound of old leaves crunching sounded behind you, and it didn’t take much initiative to begin running in the other direction.

Your heart began to race as a chase started with the unknown entity. You could hear it behind you, deep breathing and grunting. It was an obstacle course trying to avoid logs and roots, while trying to stop yourself from retching due to the pungent smell of burning, decaying flesh.

Sprinting away from danger raised a primal fear in you. The kind that rips your body apart so that every ounce of concentration, energy and intelligence can be used to escape the nightmares that trailed behind.

A blend of growls mixed in as a pack of rabid wolves jumped out from the side, lunging for you. You yelped, narrowly ducking and weaving away from the gnashing jaws of the animals. They joined the chase behind you, barking when you managed to jump a log that tripped a few of them. The wolves didn’t stop, though. They joined the ominous deep breathing that pursued you, as if you were Red Riding Hood fleeing from danger.

Needing to go faster, despite the close confines around you, you extended your wings from your back and threw away the cloak. Normally, your wings would open to the light of the sun, the streaks of light reflecting beautiful rainbow hues. But now, they added to the glowing red surrounding you, as if they were broken and bloodied. A sense of foreboding overtook you at the thought. 

You began fluttering to move faster, your feet only lightly touching the ground. Being half fairy, you couldn’t reach the heights of a typical fairy, restricted by your human-sized body, but that didn’t matter with the many branches that loomed and imprisoned you close to the forest floor.

Crows cawed, their wings flapping as they followed you with red eyes. You could tell they and the wolves were not real, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t hurt you. The birds dove for your wings, and you had to change paths to try and avoid them.  

Snakes slithered along the ground, and spiders bared their fangs on the branches above your head. It was claustrophobic, as if this evil presence was closing in on you, causing you a fear worse than your most violent nightmares.

With heaving breaths, running on pure adrenaline, you pushed yourself further than ever before.

You started to lose the animals and the mysterious creature, and it gave you a chance to begin your song.

Fairies cast their magic through their voices, affecting all who listened. Humans often did not understand the words but did not need to. The melody alone was enough to bring love and laughter to life. For that was the gift fairies brought. Through the pureness of their hearts, magic could be accessed and shared with the world.

While fairies appeared like blossoming flowers, there were dark vines that snaked from the ground. Those who used their magic for wicked intentions were considered dark witches. Banned from the sanctorum where Mother Nature sits, witches could never gain Mother Nature's trust, hence never earning their wings.

The song you cast into the acrid air was one of hope. A beautiful tune that caused fairy dust to fall from your wings as you fluttered faster, your strength increasing. But what you did not see behind you was the way the ground swallowed the dust, absorbing it to fuel a power that lay below.

“Tinker Bell.” A voice called to you. The name is reminiscent of the childhood teasing you’d endured during your youth. But the voice now held no innocent oblivion to the way it made fun of you. “Pretty fairy, you cannot outrun me.”

With no destination in mind and no path to guide your way, you continued through the forest with threatening sounds behind you. And before long, the trees opened up into a small clearing. There was no reprieve, though, as the trees that formed the circled area were so thick there would be no way you could continue into the forest without having to squeeze past.

Skeletons and discarded bones covered the ground, and each time your foot touched one, they crumbled with a sickening crunch. Humans, animals, and all kinds of beings lay dead in the field, no flesh left to discern them. Their graveyard would soon become yours too, you feared.

“Tinker Bell,” the voice sounded, and it was much closer now. You spun around with fluttering wings, doing a full turn with magic dust falling to the ground, but you couldn’t see anyone. The ground rumbled beneath you, and you gasped at the sight of vines shooting up to try and grab you.

With darting movements, you maneuvered around the vines that tried to capture you. But the more you began to panic, the more magic that came from you, and the world around you absorbed it. The vines started growing in power, getting thicker and faster the more you tried to fly away.

The blood moon was in full force now. The entire sky was a pool of scarlet, ruddy and nauseating. This realm was feeding off your fear, taking it and using it for its own power. 

It was then the being showed itself, walking from the thick foliage into view. The sight of him shocked you so severely that you became distracted, and the vines took their chance to snake around your ankles and up your legs, stopping at your upper thighs. Another two vines grabbed each arm, holding you helplessly in place.

Before you stood an Oni. Or at least someone appearing to be one. A Japanese legend, Oni, were created through the death of a wicked human. Weidling iron clubs as their weapon, they would find enjoyment in crushing and destroying humans. They were bearers of punishment. While this man had no weapon, you feared for what he had planned for you.

But what did you do apart from giving the world your pure heart? What made you deserving of an Oni’s wrath?

Your wings kept fluttering as you took in the man's mask. Covering his face was intricate carvings on a deep charcoal wood. Horns extended on either side, with swirls that covered them down to the blackened eye holes. You could see his piercing blue eyes, stark in comparison to the darkness that surrounded them. The carved swirls continued down the mask's jaw, where it had cut sharp teeth with two fangs on both sides. The man was bulky, not the size of the Oni you had heard of, but he certainly eclipsed the size of an average human. He had to be almost seven feet at least.

He wore only black, with loose pleated pants on his legs and a robe covering his top beneath. One of his hands shone in the red light, and it took you a moment to realise that’s because it was an intricate metal, not flesh.

The sight caused an unrelenting fear in you, as if he had your heart in his hand, beginning to squeeze your very life with his threatening grip.

“Hello, Tinker Bell,” the man spoke, the deep timbre of his tone shaking you to your core as you struggled against your binds. “Are you lost, little fae? These woods are no place for a fairy like you,” he teased, and you could hear the smile in his voice despite the way his face remained hidden.

“Then let me go,” you snapped, trying to use wisps of magic to get the vines to recede, but all it did was make them stronger.

“Ah, hm, no.” The man approached in long strides with flouncing hair as the vines forced you to your knees, your body sinking slightly into the plush earth. “That would be an awful waste of all my effort, Tinker Bell.”

“That’s not my name,” you snapped, beginning to tire of his antics. You just wanted to go home.

“Don’t bore me with your birth name. Tinker Bell suits you much more.” His stature towered above you as he looked down at you, his hair falling around the sides of the mask. The mask was even more intimidating up close. Power radiated off his being, darkness oozing like a sick sludge from him. This was a man to be scared of. 

You began to tremble, causing the vines to rustle as you tried to still yourself. In the eyes of a predator, it is best to try and make yourself seem intimidating. But there’s not much you can do as tears well in your eyes. Your mother had always teased you for having such a sensitive soul.

“Aww, are you going to cry? I haven’t even done anything yet.”

You sniffled, spikes of fear lighting your blood like an electric bolt. “What do you want?” 

“Those wings, pretty girl.”

Your eyes widened, and your blood ran cold. You held your breath with a sharp inhale, anxiety clutching at your heart. When you’d first presented with your wings, you’d been warned that they were a rare commodity, much like an elephant's tusks. There were puissant people who wanted to increase their power, and a set of fairy wings granted immense magical properties.

“I don’t want to die,” your voice turned into a high whine as reality set in. This red forest would be your final resting place.

The man laughed heartily, causing you to flinch like he had slapped you.

“Oh, you’re not going to die. Don’t you know? Fairy wings grow back. Why on earth would I kill you when I can have a fae of my own?”

If anything, that was a fate worse than death.

“What’s your name?” You gulped, holding back the sobs that wanted to escape.

“You can call me Bucky.”

You were not above grovelling, and you were already on your knees, so you begged. “Bucky - please. Just let me go home. I’m begging you. I have a family, friends, people who will miss me. Just let me go, and I won’t tell anyone about you.”

His eyes darkened as if they were adapting to the shade of the mask surrounding them. There was a deathly silence as he considered you. “No.”

He seemed angry at the mere thought of you being missed. You wondered if it was jealousy. Does he have anyone caring for him? Unlikely based on his method of trying to gain more power. This does not seem like a personable man.

So, you tried a different angle.

“Bucky, you’re a witch, right? That’s how we’re in this realm. You made it?” His eyes narrowed as you spoke, but he didn't stop you. “We’re the same. Magical beings. We should be working together, not against each other. M-Maybe I can help you with some magic? In exchange for my release?”

“The moment I let the vines go, let you leave this place, you will leave me and never look back. Don’t lie to me, Tinker Bell. I can see through your bullshit,” Bucky spat venomously, moving away from you towards a large log that sat in the clearing.

And he wasn’t wrong. It was your intention to run and conjure a teleportation spell the moment you got out of this nightmare realm.

The vines picked you up despite your screams for freedom, carrying you towards the log. “Please, don’t do this! We’re cut of the same cloth. We should be working together! You can stop now. It’s not too late. Please, let me go!”

Bucky watched as you were placed over the log so your front rested against the bark. Your body curved over the trunk, breasts squishing uncomfortably against the hard surface as the vines pulled your arms and legs towards the ground.

A heat rose in your cheeks. You were stuck with your ass elevated, your dress ridden up, so your panties were on display to Bucky. The more you struggled against the binds, the stronger they held.

The blood rushed to your head when you let your neck relax, chin bumping against the log. Reality was setting in, your hope beginning to whittle away. “Please, don’t.”

“Plead all you want, Tinker Bell. No one can hear you here,” Bucky’s voice sounded behind you, his hands groping at the flesh of your thighs. “In fact, I’ll enjoy it more hearing your sounds.”

Bucky let his hands run over your skin, causing goosebumps to rise everywhere he touched. You could sense the power emanating from him, a dark magic present in his entire being.

The vines held firm, so tightly wrapped around your limbs that it felt as if they were seconds away from snapping your bones in their grip. You whimpered, skin cutting against the bark as you writhed.

You couldn’t help the arousal that began to pool in your core with the way Bucky groped you. His devilish hands warmed you like he lit a fire in your entire being. He was undoubtedly a powerful creature.

“You’ll want to be numbed for when I cut your wings off…” Bucky trailed off, and when you looked back you gasped.

He’d taken his cock out. Hard, veiny, and inviting – the thick flesh had an angry red tip, shining precum at the tip. You wondered if he tasted as powerful as his magic.

Bucky took a string of fabric to tie back his hair so it was in a tight bun. You watched, mesmerised by how he moved so fluidly.

He kept his eyes on you the whole time, his dark stare not leaving you as his cock bobbed between his legs when you let out a sniffle.

The mask stayed on after Bucky had finished with his hair, and you couldn’t help but be curious about your captor. Would he look like the demon he projected?

Bucky lifted the bottom of the disguise to spit into his hand, running his palm over the ridges of his cock with a grunt as his metal hand yanked your panties down.

Reality came crashing down, and you cried out. “Wait! Don’t! Please, don’t.”

“You don’t want to be in pain, do you? I could cut your wings with no analgesic, but I’m doing you a favour by giving you my cum,” Bucky’s hands gripped either side of the trunk, allowing his cock to sit nestled in your exposed ass cheeks. “I’m being nice. I’m not even going to fuck you.”

You shook your head, a sob escaping you. “This isn’t being nice.”

“Oh? Not even when I do this?” Bucky snapped his fingers with an incantation, and a small vial of pink liquid appeared in his hand. He took the ampoule, moving his cock out of the way so he could pour it over your ass, letting the pink sparkling fluid seep down into your folds.

Your entire body went taut, sudden bolts of pleasure shooting through your body like firecrackers. Your toes curled, and you wailed out a moan, wings fluttering crazily as you tried to process what was happening.

The arousal coursing through you was like nothing you’d ever felt before, Bucky’s magic infecting you and making your brain spiral like you’d had multiple orgasms at once.

Rainbows of colour swirled in your vision as Bucky began sliding his cock against your ass. You could barely register the rocking movement as euphoria filled your brain, the lust making your hair stand on end.

“See? It’s not so bad, Tinker Bell,” Bucky groaned, humping against you and pushing you harder against the log. “I bet no one has touched you like this before.”

Bucky kicked your legs out so you were spread wider, allowing him to slide his cock along your pussy, collecting your arousal. He rubbed the tip of his cock on your clit, and you moaned obscenely. “St— op”

“Ah, you don’t really want me to, do you? Look how wet you are for me. I bet I could make you cum just with my cock.” Bucky wasn’t wrong. He rolled your clit with the head of his dick, and whatever magic he’d used on you had it feeling like tongues were lapping at you.

“That’s it, come on, cum for me. Soak me. Lose that innocence for me, my little slut,” Bucky leant forward, hands pressing down on your wings, teeth nipping at your ear.

That was all it took for the dams to burst. The world was vibrant as you came, red filling your vision, your body shaking with mewls as your juices gushed against Bucky’s cock.

Your wetness allowed Bucky to easily slide against your flesh, heat radiating from his pulsing cock as he grunted with each thrust. “Fuck. You’re perfect.”

Time seemed to warble, your brain unable to keep up as Bucky grabbed your ass, pressing your cheeks together so he could fuck them harder. “Shit, fuck, oh— oh, I’m close.”

Bucky suddenly pulled back, and you hoped the ordeal was over. How wrong you were.

“They’re soft as silk, Tinks,” Bucky commented, running his fingers over the reflective surface of your wings. You tried to flap them to get his hand to move away, but he was fast, grabbing onto the delicate membrane of your wing.

“Don’t touch them. That hurts,” you whimpered in your haze, writhing against the vines.

“Oh, I’m going to do far more than just touch them.”

You felt as Bucky played with the pliability of your wings, the body part easily manipulated as it was soft and light, the only dense part of your wings being the cartilage that secured them to your back.

Pure horror filled you as he placed his palm onto your wing, forcing it against the log, using his other hand to curve the opalescent surface of your appendage around his cock.

“Fuck. So fucking soft. I knew it would feel amazing,” Bucky moaned, using your wing like a sheath for his cock.

You could feel the heat from his dick against you, your wings sensitive and full of nerves like the rest of you.

“Stop…” You cried, tears still falling, and you were surprised you had any left to cry.

To be defiled like this was something unimaginable. The happiness that you so often felt in your soul was becoming a chimera – no more than a hopeful illusion.

With Bucky’s grunts sounding behind you, you craned your neck to look at the sky, the red reflection making it look as if you were shedding tears of blood.

The blood moon shone proudly, the sky clear of clouds, leaving just redness to cover everything. What did you do to deserve this? Was it simply your fate to be a sacrifice to the wretched? Was there such a thing as fate at all? For so long, you’d considered your life set up upon a lineage Mother Nature set out for you. But no loving figure would force this reality upon one of her creatures, right? Your whole belief system felt shaken, like your entire world compass was stomped on and shattered.

What had you done wrong?

In reality, you’d done nothing to merit such treatment.

Yet the world bestowed the pain on you regardless.

“Enough, stop. It hurts,” you whimpered, the bend on your wing uncomfortable as Bucky thrust into it.

“Oh, it feels too good to stop, pretty girl. It’s like fucking straight magic.” Bucky’s hands braced against the log, using wisps of dark power to keep your wing in a circle.

The power from him escalated, dark clouds pouring from him and billowing across the ground, covering the graveyard of souls surrounding you. His breathy moans got louder, his grip on the log causing cracks to form in the wood.

“F-Fuck, feels too good. I’m going to cum. Yeah, you want my cum, don’t you? Dirty slut.” His hips lost their rhythm, beginning to stutter as he came. Bucky was quick to pull back, his cum coating your back where your wings connected with your flesh.

It was an odd feeling that washed over you. It was something akin to calmness, although it was forced upon you. The last movement you could manage was to look back, brows knitting together when you saw that Bucky’s seed was coloured black, before your body went involuntarily lax.

You lay over the log, your breathing levelling out as you became numb to the world. His spell didn’t just anaesthetise your body, but your emotions too.

You couldn’t even wish to be asleep as you started at the foggy ground.

The vines eased up, not needing to hold you so tight when there was no struggle, their tension leaving marks on your limbs.

“You’re so perfect.” Bucky complimented, but there was no smile on your face.

There was nothing.

You were nothing.

This was the end of everything, and the start of the aphotic zone.

The remnants of your tears fell onto the bones below, cleaning away some of the dirt covering them. But the damage to them remained. Just as the damage to you began.

You couldn’t see what Bucky was doing, nor could you feel it, but you could hear it. There was a sick squelching noise, followed by a sawing sound, as Bucky began to hack at the cartilage connecting your wings.

It was like nails on a chalkboard, nausea roiling in your stomach as you had no choice but to lay there like a rat in a laboratory, ready to be dissected in some horrid experiment.

He could have magically removed them. He’d more than exemplified he had the power to. But he’d chosen the barbaric route for his own crooked pleasure.

Bucky was silent, concentrating on his work as your body wobbled with each run of the jagged blade against you. Blood coated your skin, the ichor running down your sides and covering the wood below you. It gushed out, and if you didn’t feel light-headed before, you certainly did now.

The only words you heard enter the world were a whispered fire incantation. It was then you smelt your flesh burning, the blade heated to cauterise your wound as it sliced.

If you had any control, you’d be wailing, screaming, doing anything to try and get out. Bucky stole your anguish from you, leaving you like a doll atop the log as your identity was violently stripped from your back.

Mother Nature had gifted you your wings. They were your responsibility. And you failed to protect them.

Yet, in your neutered state, you were apathetic about it.

The impromptu surgery went on for what felt like hours, the slow removal of your body parts done both with intricacy and unrelenting brutality.

Your back felt significantly lighter as your wings fell to the ground, crunching the skeletons below into dust.

It was done.

You would never be the same.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I left some scarring. I want my fairy to be special and bear markings made by her owner,” Bucky said proudly, as if you could respond.

You just stared at the skull below you. God, how you wished to be dead on the ground.

Bucky came around the log and stood in front of you, cupping your face with his palms so you were forced to look at his masked face. “Ready to go home?”

Drool dropped out of your mouth and down your chin, unable to control your functions. Bucky swiped away the moisture. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

Bucky snapped his fingers, and you were instantly transported to his home.

It seemed like a small cabin in the middle of a forest, based on what you could see from the dirty window. Every surface was covered with tomes, vials, herbs, and materials needed for spells.

The place had an earthy smell with a mix of floral sweetness.

You sat in the corner of the room, and it took you a moment to realise you sat in a large birdcage. With your body still paralysed, you could only elicit a small whimper at the realisation that you were trapped. A purple field covered the cage, assumedly stopping you from using magic.

Bucky startled you, suddenly materialising with your wings in his arms. Seeing them made your heart drop to the earth's centre. They’d lost their colour, aura, and everything that made them special. Now, they were no more than an ingredient.

You watched as Bucky placed them onto his desk, dusting himself off before turning his attention back to you. “Sorry about the mess. I should have cleaned up before you came over. But I’m sure you won’t mind.”

There was a sense of anticipation as he removed his Oni mask, showing you for the first time his face. You were surprised at how handsome and regular he looked. Sometimes, the evillest were the people we’d never suspect if we passed them on the street. “It’s pretty, isn’t it?” He waved the mask before placing it next to your wings. “Since I act like a demon, I might as well look like one, right?”

With a grin, he moved to the bubbling cauldron that was hanging atop a fireplace, scooping up some of the mystery green liquid into a small wooden bowl.

There was intention in every movement as he collected the foul-smelling soup. As he came to your cage, every part of you wanted to scream and run. Yet you didn’t move an inch, sitting upon the cot with your back to the cage wall.

“Here. This will help you heal faster,” Bucky said, as if you had a choice in what you consumed. You felt ill as he got closer with the sloshing broth, your stomach flipping as he raised it to your lips. He had to physically pry your mouth open to pour the soup in, the heat sliding down your slack throat with ease. “That’s my girl, Tinks. Such a good fairy.”

His praises fell on deaf ears as your senses were overtaken by the putrid taste and smell of whatever concoction he had fed you. Almost instantly, you got movement and feeling back.

For the first time in your life, anger overtook you. You’d never felt rage before, but it was all that occupied you now.

With your wings gone, a whole part of you had been taken away. Without your gift of purity, you didn’t have the same emotional control. You felt human.

You jumped up, whacking the bowl from his grip and wrapping your hands around Bucky’s neck, ready to squeeze the life out of him. “I’m going to kill you,” you snarled, entirely unlike your usual self.

Bucky had stolen your innocence and replaced it with darkness.

“Is that so?” Bucky tilted his head, unphased as you squeezed. “Interesting.”

Your anger turned to desperation as Bucky’s form turned to sand in your grip, the course grit slipping through your fingers.

“No!” You screeched, running for the open cage door.

But Bucky was faster, reappearing on the other side of the cage and quickly slamming the wire door in your face.

“No! Let me out! You fucking wench! Hag! Get back here, you old bag and fucking let me go!” You gripped the bars, shaking them desperately as you tried to conjure as much magic as possible. But you had nothing, Bucky’s forcefield holding strong. “I can see why Mother Nature rejected you, warlock. You’re nothing more than an imp, picking on others so you can feel better about your own weakness. You fucking prick.”

There was no chastity left. Your virtue had been lost when your wings were stripped from your being.

“Now, now, that’s not nice. You hurt my feelings.” Bucky frowned, moving back from your enclosure. “Those wings of yours will grow back, and so will your temperament. I’m a very patient man, and I have no issue making your whole existence suffering. But if you know what’s good for you, you will apologise when I return. Wings or not, I expect you to keep the nature of a fairy, Tinks.”

With a flash, Bucky disappeared, leaving you alone in the dank room.

You collapsed to your knees, resolving into a fit of sobs. Without your object of anger there, you were reduced to nothing but sorrow.

Letting out a shuddered breath, you looked over your shoulder. Out from the scarring, popped the smallest amount of new cartilage.

The cycle would begin again.

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#ambswrites #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #dark fic #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan fanfiction #sebastian stan imagine

[navybrat817]

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ 𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒆 𝒂𝒖

✧˚ · . a collaboration between @navybrat817 and @sgt-seabass

After his escape from a life of captivity, and the fall of Hydra, Bucky Barnes thought he finally had a chance at happiness. The problem is, if you cut off one head, three shall take it's place. A new Hydra had risen, and their ruthless path will leave destruction in it's wake.

A/N: We're very excited to share this series with you. It's going to be a rough and bumpy road for our reader, but we hope you enjoy the ride.

This AU is dark and 18+. Heed the warnings on each post.

𝒏𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒆𝒓𝒂 | AO3

Bucky returns home after a mission, ready to spend time with his two favourite people, you and Alpine.

𝒂 𝒕𝒊𝒅𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒘𝒂𝒓 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒃𝒓𝒐𝒌𝒆𝒏 𝒅𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒎𝒔 | AO3

Is this the way it's got to be? Ignite the fire inside of me. Embrace the life of tragedy. A tide of war and broken dreams.

𝑬𝒓𝒂𝒔𝒆 𝑻𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝑷𝒆𝒓𝒇𝒆𝒄𝒕 𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒍𝒅 | AO3

Stay reformed. Erase this perfect world. Hate left below. The dark stray dog of war.

𝒔𝒆𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒃𝒍𝒆𝒆𝒅 | AO3

I just wanna see you bleed. Open you and set you free

More to come...

#ambswrites #navybrat writes #dark fic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x you #omc x reader #omc x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #james buchanan barnes #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x female reader #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan #collaborative writing

[sgt-seabass]

Just Imagine this:

"Honey?" Bucky called as he came home from a long day of work only to find you and the kitty asleep, He would scoop you up and put you in bed only mildly stirring you. His perfect family. he would change and hop in bed with you.

THIS MAN IS GORGEOUS

𝒏𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒆𝒓𝒂

✧˚ · . a collaboration between @navybrat817 and sgt-seabass

Bucky returns home after a mission, ready to spend time with his two favourite people, you and Alpine.

pairing — bucky barnes x reader w/c — 1.3k part of the Vengeance AU listening to —♫navillera by gfriend

warnings — bucky barnes is a sweetheart, part of a dark AU, mentions of Hydra a/n — navillera is a korean phrase meaning ‘like a butterfly’, so i thought it suited. thank you so much for your ask, it inspired this oneshot! hope you enjoy a little peace before our next part comes out.

“Steve, there’s something more to this.” Bucky rapped his flesh fingers against the back of his metal hand, shoulders tensed as he looked out the car window, the sky dark. Shadows cast across his face, emanating his worries easily with the subtle light of the moon.

Normally, he rode his bike to the compound before a mission, but this one had been urgent so Steve had picked him up, and now was stuck with dropping him home.

Steve sighed, both hands gripping the wheel. Both men were tense. “Buck. We really shouldn’t be talking about this–”

“The base wasn’t just empty, it was stripped bare. Someone cleaned house.” Bucky chewed on his lower lip as they passed by familiar streets, one’s he often walked with you. It felt dirty to be thinking about work in the area he considered your domain. Bucky liked to keep work and private life separate, although the edges seemed to be bleeding more and more.

Lately, he’d had a lot more late nights and sudden missions as a string of ex-Hydra bases were ransacked by unknown assailants. It was concerning enough to have someone interested in old Hydra assets, and even more worrying with no idea as to why.

The world was better off without the tentacles of Hydra swirling below the surface, but it seemed some people didn’t agree with that sentiment.

“We shouldn’t be talking about this. It’s classified. We need to be in a secure facility.” Steve was clearly growing more irritated, but Bucky knew the stem of that annoyance was the same as his – they didn’t know who was doing this, and what their motive was.

“You sound like Tony,” Bucky sniped before he could think better of it.

Steve inhaled sharply, shooting Bucky a look. It had Bucky curling a little into his seat. “Sorry. You just know it’s weird and there’s something big we’re missing. Hydra is gone, so why would someone care about their old junk?”

“I don’t know, Buck. But I intend to find out,” Steve said with finality as he pulled up outside your apartment building. “Either way, it’ll be fine. Hydra died the same day the Triskelion fell. Now go get some rest, you look like shit.”

“Is that an order, Captain?” Bucky chuckled dryly, his eyes lingering on the high up window with the open curtains – his apartment. The four walls didn’t weren’t what made it his home – you were. Becca had always told him home was where the heart is, and his heart was always with you. You were his home. His safety blanket. His everything.

“Stop being a jerk and get out of my car. Your girl needs you,” Steve gently pushed at Bucky’s shoulder, an air of ease between them.

Bucky opened the car door, sliding out, but not without sticking his head in to have the last word. “Fine, punk. But keep me in the loop.”

Steve just nodded, affection in his expression. Bucky smiled as he shut the passenger door. The world was certainly different from the one they’d grown up knowing, but after everything it was nice to still have his best friend.

Bucky didn’t look back as Steve drove off, shoving his hands into the pockets of his sweats as he ambled his way up to the apartment. He felt relaxed coming home. He was finally able to live the life he had been so vehemently denied of by his captors.

It was hard not to think about the past. In the years since his freedom, Bucky had mourned the loss of his life in the 40’s, dealt with the shame and guilt of his actions as the Winter Soldier, and now dealt with the anxiety of the modern world. He’d chosen not to share the gory details of his actions as the Winter Soldier with you, and while you’d never pressed, he could see that curious look you gave him. But if he told you he was a ruthless killer, would you leave? The logical part of his brain said no, you’d work through it with him. But the gripping fear that you would leave was too much to bear.

So instead, he let you live in an oblivious bubble, with only trickles of information coming through. It was safer that way. You wouldn’t be a target when you didn’t know anything.

Bucky’s keys jingled as he opened the front door, undoing the multiple locks he’d had installed when he first moved in. The apartment was dark, only a soft light emanating from the television that was running repeats of some crime show Bucky knew you liked. 

A soft chuckle left Bucky as he sighted you cuddled up on the couch, strewn across the cushions with a few blankets piled on top of you, and Alpine perched happily atop your chest. Your chest rose and fell slowly, a little snore sounding with each few breaths.

Guilt began to nibble at Bucky. You’d stayed up for him. He hadn’t given you an estimated time back since he didn’t know when the mission would be over, but he knew you, and he was certain you would have had little sleep while he was away, always waiting for the front door to open.

Ignoring the empty ice cream container and takeout on the table - a problem for another time - Bucky made his way through the mountain of coziness so he could pick you up. 

Bucky’s arms looped under you, lifting you and Alpine in one scoop. Alpine mewed softly, which Bucky quickly shushed in response, not wanting you to wake. You stirred in his hold, but luckily stayed asleep. 

Unable to help himself, Bucky placed a gentle kiss to your forehead before moving to the bedroom. With the utmost care and caution, Bucky placed you down into the soft covers of the bed, tucking you in tight so you wouldn’t feel the chill of the night's air.

Within minutes, Bucky was undressed and ready to join you, left in nothing but his dog tags. He’d showered at the compound after the mission, since he knew he wouldn’t be able to hold himself back from cuddling you the moment he set eyes on you.

Bucky climbed into bed next to you, pulling you close to spoon you while he propped his head up on his metal hand to watch you, Alpine snuggled close to your stomach. He placed his flesh hand on your chest, feeling the soft thrum of your heart through his palm. Nothing could ground him like you did. Bucky smiled, placing a kiss to your shoulder and head, allowing himself a moment of reprieve in your familiar scent.

Everything about you was just comfort. You were a beauty inside and out that Bucky felt privileged to witness. Each night, he could bid the moon goodnight knowing there were good, pure people like you in the world. 

At first, he’d hated the modern world. But when he’d met you, he’d started to think it might not be all bad.

He’d be with Steve until the end of the line, but with you, he’d be with you eternally. Even if the world ended, if everything just ceased, you’d still own his heart. The love he felt transcended the mortal realm, and was something more than he’d ever understand.

Bucky’s eyes traced your form, taking in each intricate detail of your face. Becca and his Ma would have loved you, he was sure of it. His sister would have undoubtedly given him flack for pulling a girl so sweet and stunning, and his mother would have treated you like the second daughter she never had. Bucky felt a twang in his heart that he couldn’t give you the loving family you deserved.

“Bucky.” Your dreary voice snapped Bucky back to reality, as if you knew his mind was beginning to spiral. “I love you.”

Bucky let his head rest on the pillow next to yours, but not without placing a kiss to your shoulder first. “I love you too.”

To be updated on when I post please follow @sgt-seabass-library and turn on post notifications.

#ambswrites #navybrat writes #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x you #bucky #fanfiction

[sgt-seabass]

𝒂 𝒕𝒊𝒅𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒘𝒂𝒓 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒃𝒓𝒐𝒌𝒆𝒏 𝒅𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒎𝒔

✧˚ · . a collaboration between @navybrat817 and sgt-seabass

Is this the way it's got to be? Ignite the fire inside of me. Embrace the life of tragedy. A tide of war and broken dreams. (x)

pairing — bucky barnes x reader w/c — 6.3k this is a dark fic. 18+ only. listening to —♫3 am walk

warnings — bucky barnes is a sweetheart, implied (consensual) smut, kidnapping, assault, violence against reader, mention of bodily injury, stabbing, knives, blood, bad guys being cunts, hydra exists, degradation, threat of non-con, whump, threat of violence against an animal (but the animal is not touched or harmed), death threats a/n — after months of brainstorming and writing together with Navy, this has finally been born. this piece is part of a larger AU we made together, so watch this space for more in the future.

Waking up next to Bucky was the easiest thing you ever did, because that was your happiest dream come true.

Even when his alarm blared before the sun had even considered rising, in the early hours when birds were still in their slumber, and the moon lit the bedroom with its ethereal glow, you would still give everything to wake up to the sleepy smile of your boyfriend.

You went to bed thinking of him as he ran his fingers down your back, helping ease you into a restful sleep, and you woke thinking of him as he tried to cover your eyes from his lit-up phone.

You both groaned, begging the stars for more time in bed. But as the incessant beeping filled the room, neither of you would get back to sleep soon.

Bucky was an Avenger. And that meant he had to go save the world. But that didn’t make it any easier when he had to leave for missions.

As Bucky leaned over to turn his phone off, you wrapped your arms around him, spooning him with your chin on his shoulder. “You could just stay home.”

Something in your gut was calling to you, warning you that he needed to stay home. It made you fearful. What if he got hurt?

In hindsight, it was you who needed the protection.

Bucky sighed, turning off the annoying buzzing of his phone. “You know I want to. But I can’t. Duty calls, sweetheart.”

God, you’d never get sick of the gravelly twinge to his voice in the mornings.

“Steve and Sam need backup,” he yawned, rolling over so he could cradle your head to his firm chest as he lay on his back, allowing you to smell the fading scent of his cologne.

“I’m sure they’ll be fine on their own,” you smiled, placing a kiss on his pec. Bucky’s habit of sleeping in only boxers always had you wanting to kiss him all over. Covering him in your affections was always tempting, even when he got shy, especially around his scarred shoulder.

“Baby, stop it,” Bucky almost whined, like a toddler tempted with treats. “Please don’t make this harder for me.”

“Sorry,” you placated, that nauseous feeling in the pit of your stomach not easing as your eyes adjusted to the dark room.

Outside, you could hear the occasional car and pedestrian. But for the most part, Brooklyn was asleep. It was a peaceful silence between you, enjoying each other’s touch while it began drizzling rain outside.

“Well, it’s raining. Now you’ll just have to stay home.” You cheekily nipped at Bucky’s side before shuffling up to kiss his stubbled cheek.

“Is that so?” Bucky chuckled, eyes crinkling in your favourite show of joy.

“Mhm. No missions on rainy days,” you said matter-of-factly with a serious look on your face, a look you couldn’t hold when Bucky tickled your sides. You burst into giggles, gasping softly when Bucky rolled you under him so he towered over you, your body caged between his bulky arms.

“That’s too bad. I thought you were going to have a fun day with Natalia.” Bucky’s hair fell forward and covered some of his face. But there was no missing his twinkling blue eyes, reflecting the lights outside in his orbs. “Weren’t you going to have a girls movie night?”

“Yes, but I’d rather you join us.” Your hands ran up his sides, feeling rippled muscle until you reached his neck and jaw. His stubble pricked at your fingers as you cupped his face.

“I don’t want to be the third wheel. What are you ‘gonna watch?” As he spoke, Bucky began placing gentle kisses on your cheek that trailed down your collarbone.

“Cruel Intentions,” you muttered, revelling in the feeling of his plush lips against your skin.

“You’ve shown me that one,” Bucky murmured against your neck. “That’s the one with the lesbian kissing scene, right?”

You rolled your eyes with mock offence. “Of course that’s the bit you remember. And it’s not just any kissing scene. It’s the legendary kiss between Sarah Michelle Gellar and Selma Blair.”

Bucky pulled himself back up, raising his brows and trying, and failing, to hide his smirk. “Sorry, how could I forget.” His tongue darted out to wet his lips. “Let me see if I remember correctly. It goes like this, right?”

Your heart was ready to burst out of your chest when Bucky’s lips met yours. Morning breath be damned; there was simply nothing better than kissing Bucky Barnes.

He licked across your bottom lip before you opened your mouth to let him in. “Bucky…” You moaned, your tongues sliding together like a choreographed ballroom dance.

Your hands held his scruffy jaw while his hands, one cold and one warm, held your waist. You could always tell when he was getting aroused by the way he’d lose some motor control of his silver arm, the hand twitching and metal plates shifting.

In hindsight, you’d miss the way he’d hold you the most.

Bucky slowly pulled away, his metal hand rising so his thumb could brush over your spittle-smeared lips. “Something like that, right?”

“Yeah.” You breathed out before taking the digit into your mouth.

Even though he couldn’t feel it, you could see how Bucky’s pupils dilated as he watched you suck.

His metal arm had been used for so much evil. But you always wanted to remind him of who he was. Your lover, your best friend. Your everything. Just like you were to him.

You weren’t afraid, and you embraced every part of him. While many cowered away from the man with the metal arm, you gravitated towards him, as if your heart was connected to him with impenetrable strings of fate.

“God, I love you.” Bucky’s metal hand cupped your cheek, his breath hitching for a moment as he gazed at you, as if so full of emotion his words were caught in his throat.

You placed your palm over his hand, snuggling into the cold metal like it was a warm hug. “I love you too, Bucky baby.”

An embarrassed flush spread over Bucky’s cheeks as it always did when you spoke to him sweetly. He might have been a soldier, but he was still a soft romantic at heart.

With the pitter-patter of rain against the window, the room no more than illuminated shadows, you were entirely enraptured by Bucky. You both stayed silent, just soaking in the moment as sparks flew. Even though you’d been together for two years, the chemistry was still like the first day you met. The first time you kissed. The first day you fucked.

The world around you was dark, yet you weren’t scared because Bucky was there.

The languid movement of Bucky’s lips to yours was tender, a familiar movement that he’d done so many times before. Feathery light, yet full of heat, he brushed his lips over yours. “I wish you could come with me.”

“I could stay in the jet.” You offered with sincerity. But that part of Bucky’s world wasn’t for you, you both knew that. You were no agent, a mere civilian with a super soldier boyfriend. But something told you that’s what drew Bucky to you, your normalcy. You gave him a chance at a life that had been stolen from him for so many years.

“I wouldn’t forgive myself if you got hurt. You’re safer here.”

In hindsight, he was very wrong.

Bucky captured your lips again, caressing and lingering in a way that had your heart fluttering and cheeks burning.

You tangled your hands into his locks, deepening the kiss. If he was going, you needed every moment you could get.

Bucky gripped your chin with his flesh hand, opening your mouth for him.

The sweetness turned sultry, and before long, Bucky was grinding himself against your pyjama-covered core.

Words couldn’t describe the desire that was awash in the room. Two lovers revelling in a happiness that was so rare, as if a million I love you’s were condensed into a single moment. No poet could describe this connection or the way it made you feel.

With Bucky’s embrace, you were home.

Bucky slowly trailed kisses down your neck, chest and stomach until he reached your pulsing pussy.

“I better tire you out before I go.” He smirked, cheeky as ever.

And tire you out, he did.

It wasn’t about his pleasure in that moment. He solely focused on you.

The way he moved his tongue, the way he pulled you apart, it was damn near artistic.

Steve may have been a painter, but Bucky was an artist in the act of love.

In hindsight, you should have cherished this moment more. Because it was the last happiness you would feel for some time.

The unease in your stomach began to grow in intensity as time passed, and by the time Bucky pulled himself away to get ready and leave, there were unexplainable chills wracking through you.

Bucky had done a thousand missions in your time together and had come home safe each time. Steve knew you’d likely kill him if something happened to Bucky. So why was this time different?

It was like your soul was trying to reach out and tell you something. But it must have been speaking another language, because you didn’t understand what was wrong.

You made the most of your fleeting time with Bucky before he left. He changed into his workout gear so he could kit up at the compound where most of the Avengers still resided, and Bucky had once lived. He didn’t leave many weapons in the home; you preferred it that way. The only one you knew of was the knife hidden under the couch, but you were sure there were other blades around.

Bucky had never told you why he didn’t live at the compound anymore, but Nat had hinted at tension between Bucky and Tony. You’d found it odd, given that Tony had been friendly to you each time you’d visited the compound.

But it wasn’t your business and didn’t matter to you anyway. You were content living with Bucky in your cosy apartment. There was more than enough space for both you and your fur child Alpine, plus a second bedroom for when Steve stayed over.

You snuggled into the duvet when Bucky left to make you a cup of tea before he headed off, and seeing as there was now a free spot, Alpine entered from the main area and took her chance to cosy up next to you. You pet the long-haired white cat as you waited, listening to her soft purrs to help ground you.

And when Bucky returned, you felt rather teary, your vision blurring as your emotions almost got the better of you. “Stay safe, please.”

Bucky set your earl grey down on the coaster on your bedside table before his concerned gaze turned to you. “I’ll be just fine. I’ll have my phone on me the whole time.”

“Is the mission dangerous?” You couldn’t help but ask. But you always got the same answer.

“I can’t talk about it, baby. But I’ll be okay. I promise,” Bucky reassured you with a kiss on your forehead. “You and Alpine better hold down the fort for me, okay?”

“Yeah. We’re going to get up to lots of mischief,” you smiled the best you could, holding Bucky’s hand.

“That’s my girls.” Bucky gave Alpine a little scratch under her chin before doing the same to you. “I’ll be back before you know it. Now get some more sleep, soldier’s orders.”

“Yes, sergeant,” you mock saluted before Bucky kissed you and pulled away.

“I love you, doll,” Bucky called from the doorway, as if taking his chance to imprint the sight of you into his mind.

In hindsight, he should have looked a lot longer.

“I love you too,” you gave Bucky a little wave. Alpine meowed in her own show of affection.

And like that, he was gone; The final sound from him was the closing of the front door behind him.

You turned the television on for some white noise while you sipped at your tea before you did as you were told, allowing the talking of some trash reality show to become background noise as you fell back asleep. As you dozed off, you couldn’t help but notice one side of the bed a lot colder than when you first had awoken.

For the second time that day, you woke up. This time, the sunlight beamed through the open curtains, since Bucky loved being woken by the sun warming his skin. He hated being cold.

Next to you lay a napping Alpine, her fluffy body rising and falling slowly with each deep breath. You placed a hand on her side, smiling at the little yip that came from her in surprise. She rolled onto her back, deep blue eyes watching you as you gaily scritched her belly.

She took the chance to latch onto your hand, playfully holding onto your wrist while her feet kicked and teeth ran across your skin.

“Hey, silly goose. Let me go.” Your chastisement was light and playful. While you’d prefer waking up next to Bucky, Alpine was a good replacement on the lonely days. She was your family, just like Bucky.

When Alpine rolled back over with a tired huff, you decided to leave her to slumber. As much as you wanted to annoy her more, you didn’t want to push your luck and end up with a pissed off kitty. She was moody, just like her dad.

You slinked out of bed, taking a moment to stretch when your feet hit the cold floorboards. With a yawn, you looked around the room. You should really get a rug, but Bucky liked lying on the floors when he found the bed too soft. On those nights, you’d join him, even if it left your back stiff and sore.

Padded steps took you to the kitchen, your body on autopilot as you got Alpine’s food ready for when she got up. It was the same routine as every morning. Feed the cat, shower, and check your emails for new commissions.

In hindsight, you should have been paying more attention.

You hummed as you made your way to the bathroom, connecting your phone to the Bluetooth speakers so you could play some music while you tried to relax. Your mind would run without the interruption of songs. And you didn’t want to start thinking about work before you’d had a chance to breathe.

In hindsight, you shouldn’t have put the music so loud.

It was a luxury working from home, getting to pick your own hours. You had felt a little guilty when Bucky first proposed the idea of you quitting your crappy retail job to follow your dream of graphic design, as he could bare the brunt of the expenses.

But now you were flourishing; you were just grateful for his support. There were peaks and troughs like any job, but your heart was content sitting in your shared apartment, designing things that made the world a brighter place.

You turned the shower on, bopping along to your music as you shed yourself of your pyjamas and got into the tiled shower. You could have a bath, but you preferred to save those moments for when Bucky could join you.

The hot water made you hiss at first before your body acclimatised, skin heating up as the stream washed over you.

You faced the wall, resting your head on the tile as the spray rushed down your back.

In hindsight, you should have turned around.

The consequence of your various decisions throughout the morning came to a startling precipice.

With no idea of your surroundings, you were surprised when someone looped their arms under your armpits and over your shoulders, hauling you backwards.

You didn’t even scream for a moment, your brain unable to catch up before the adrenaline kicked in full force.

The assailant didn’t speak, which almost made it worse, as he started to walk backwards with your back to his chest, arms locked over your front. More than ever, you really wished you’d taken Bucky up on those self-defence classes.

“Thanks, Buck. But I’ll never use them.”

“I just want to keep you safe.”

“I am safe. My boyfriend is an Avenger, remember?”

Fight or flight kicked in, and your screaming started. You kicked your feet up and planted your soles on the cold tiled wall. With all your strength, you pushed back like a springboard, sending you and your attacker hurtling backwards.

He let go as he fell, and while he fell through one glass pane of the shower, you fell through another. The force had the glass shattering, sending thousands of shards all over the room.

You scrunched your eyes closed, wailing when you stepped in the broken glass, pain shooting through you when the shards buried themselves into the soles of your feet. But a second attacker caught you before your body hit the sharp ground. The piercing pain in your feet barely registered with how your body buzzed. Blood began to cover the floor, your essence coating the tiles a sickly red.

Your eyes shot open to see who caught you. A dirty blonde with a youthful grin. The man who had grabbed you first, another blonde with bright blue eyes and a scowl, had caught himself against the double sink.

Time froze for a moment when you looked at the door. There was another man with dark brown hair and an ominous expression, his features dark like his intent. Three men. You had no idea if more waited outside the door, but anything would be better than being stuck in this room.

“Nice catch, Damien,” the dark-haired man grinned.

“Yeah, no problem, Mads,” the man holding you spoke, chuckling like he wasn’t holding a hostage in his grip. “Not like Kage was any help.”

With them distracted, you bolted for the bathroom door, ignoring the way your feet tore with each step.

“Maddox! Grab her!” The man against the counter, Kage, yelled. Pushing himself off the marble to follow you.

You managed to duck under Maddox’s arms and stumbled into the kitchen. Your blood was already pooling on the ground with each step you took, like red footprints in the snow.

A meow caught your attention; Alpine stood in the bedroom doorway, her tail straight and her ears back against her head, the anxiety clear.

“Alpine! Hide under the bed,” you hissed, knowing you only had seconds before the unknown men came after you. If you were to die, there was no way you’d let them get Alpine too. Alpine stared at you momentarily, but as the tears welled in your eyes, she rushed off, perhaps understanding the weight of your command. This wasn’t belly scratches and joking around anymore.

You rushed for the knife block on the kitchen counter, but a hand on the back of your neck stopped you before you could reach it. “Nice try, bitch.”

Maddox gripped your neck and shoulders before he threw you over the kitchen counter, sending you rolling over and onto the bar stools that sat neatly on the other side. You tumbled to the ground, groaning instantly at the pain of the wood hitting you from multiple angles during your descent.

The trajectory sent you towards the dining table, and with Kage and Damien coming in close, you shot up and grabbed one of the dining chairs. You held it out like a weapon, with the legs facing outwards. Your breaths came out in short pants as tears trickled down your cheeks, while a shard of wood from the stool stuck out of your side. “What do you want? I don’t have any money, please.”

“Are you dumb enough to think we’re here for money?” Damien goaded, slowly closing in the distance between you two.

Maddox jumped the counter and landed behind you, boxing you in. With a scream, you threw the chair at Damien and attempted to flee under the dining table.

You squealed when Maddox grabbed your ankle, his grip harsh. You turned to look back at him, before you kicked him in the face with your free leg. He groaned in pain, and you didn’t check to see how bad you’d hurt him before you crawled out to the other side of the table.

Kage had been waiting for you, and when you reached him, he dealt a sharp kick to your side. The pain winded you, your mouth ajar with a shocked gasp before he kicked your ribs again.

You rolled onto your back, watching as Kage considered you from above. The way he looked at you – the malice. They were going to kill you. A woman could always sense the imposing threat that men had, for it was simply the female experience to be at the mercy of those who wanted to harm you.

You should have stopped Bucky from going – should have trusted your gut. Although, if these men wanted you dead, then there would only have been so much Bucky could do. He was a victim as much as you in the world of unfairness. A man out of time. A man who just wanted a semblance of normalcy.

It was mournful that his one good thing was becoming marred with the violence he had become so used to.

“I don’t want to die,” you wept under the man, pulling the wooden stake from your side with a cry of pain. "Please."

Turning over, you dragged your bloodied body towards your desk. The same desk you spent most of your days on. Your computer and sketchbooks were filled with hopes and dreams, colour and beautiful chaos.

Your ichor-covered hand grabbed onto the side, using it like a crutch to stand up. You couldn’t stop fighting. If you were going to perish, you’d go out swinging.

“You’re still trying? It’s pathetic. You can barely stand,” Kage growled as Damien and Maddox began wreaking havoc behind him. They were smashing and destroying everything in sight, demolishing the world you and Bucky had built with love and a cherishing touch.

“F.. Fuck you,” you weakly spat, legs burning with the need to sit down.

Kage snapped, grabbing you and dragging you across the desk. Your computer smashed onto the ground, along with all your notebooks and stationery. He threw you down on top of the mangled computer, allowing the glass of your screen to stick into your back. In a way, it wasn’t a new sensation anymore. The sharp piercing of your feet had dulled your body to the point where the new pain was no more than a sudden spike that turned into a dull ache.

“You think you’re special? You’re nothing. Not even worth expending energy on.” Kage left your side, and your sightline moved to the couch.

Bucky kept a knife under it.

Trying to not show your intention, you used your arms to pull yourself along the hardwoods towards the couch, while Maddox closed in and kept tapping your bare ass with the toe of his boot.

“I wonder what he likes about you,” Maddox considered. “Are you that good a fuck? Do you cook him meals just like the old days, huh? ‘Cause to me, you just seem like a puny helpless girl. There’s no fun in killing someone who might as well be already dead.”

His taunts made your blood boil, and when you reached the corner of the couch, you turned onto your back, facing the assailant. “Go fuck yourself. You don’t know anything.”

“Ah, see there’s a little fire. I like it when they fight back.” Maddox dropped to his knees, one on either side of your thighs so you were boxed in. “I want to watch the light drain from your eyes, see all that hope just whittle away to nothing. Because, like Kage said, you are nothing.”

He moved in closer, to the point where you could smell the stale whisky on his breath. “I wonder what body part your boyfriend will find first. Maybe I’ll put your head under the bed with your fucking cat. What do you think? Are you ready to die?”

You let out an almighty scream when you reached and grabbed the knife, pulling it out and slashing Maddox across the arm before he could react.

He was a lot faster than you, however, and the moment you got a hit in on him he jumped back, eyes turning a lot darker. “Oh, you’re fucking stupid.” He growled, before he quickly overpowered you.

In a struggle, you screamed and thrashed, but by bearing his weight onto you, Maddox could manoeuvre you. He picked you up, before slamming you back down onto the hardwood floors. Your head snapped back from the force, whacking against the ground with a loud crack. 

Everything went black for a moment, and by the time your vision came back, Maddox was squatting over you with the sole of his boot stepping on your wrist, the knife still in your grip.

“You really don’t know when to stop, huh? Can’t you see you’re going to lose no matter what you do?” Maddox’s boot pressed harder, and your wrist creaked uncomfortably under the pressure.

You let go of the knife just before your bones would reach the point of snapping, the metal clattering to the ground. Despite the tears in your eyes and the fear in your heart, you were thankful for the life you had. If this were to be the end of your existence, you were okay with that. Bucky had given you a life worth of love in the short two years you’d known him. 

As you watched the sharp eyes of the man above you, you thought of Bucky. You hoped this loss would not destroy him. The life you had experienced together would not change; those happy memories of laughter and smiles still there. You hoped he would not cry for you, but feel a blossoming love at the thought of you. Death wouldn’t have you becoming a ghost of a forgotten past, but a memory to be cherished in Bucky’s future. And you would be waiting for him on the other side, should he be expecting to see you there after his inevitable demise. You would be just around the corner, waiting like nothing had ever been lost. These men could try and take your body, but they would not take your soul. That belonged to the man thousands of miles away saving the world. “I’m not going to lose. I’ve already won.”

“Yeah? Does this feel like winning?” Maddox sneered before he picked up the blade and plunged the knife into your shoulder, the white-hot pain splintering through you like the broken glass of your shower. Your mouth opened into a silent, broken scream, the anguish unlike anything you’d felt before.

This was just a fraction of what Bucky had felt in his lifetime, yet this felt like the whole world was collapsing in on you, your body broken. Perhaps these men were right - maybe you were weak. Because the knife in your shoulder was enough to break you. Would Bucky be disappointed? Would he expect you to have put up more of a fight? The logical response would be no. But the blade slicing through your muscles made it hard to think straight.

Maddox slapped your cheek and twisted the blade. “I asked you a question, little bitch. Does this feel like you’re winning?”

Your choked cries painfully shook your shoulders, and despite it all, you nodded. “Yes. I’ve already won and you can’t take that from me.”

“Stupid fucking whore, listen to this slut. She really thinks she’s worth something.” Damien called out from behind Maddox, looking at you from over his shoulder. Kage joined the commotion, gazing at the knife lodged in your shoulder.

Without compassion, Maddox ripped the knife from your shoulder, your palms raising to try to press on the open wound. There was no reprieve with these men, however. Maddox grabbed your shoulders, ignoring your yelps and wails while he threw you over the back of the couch.

Your front dropped onto the sofa, while your ass stuck in the air on the stiff back of the couch. The fear that roiled inside you turned tenfold as Kage came up behind you, pressing on your lower back so your hips pressed painfully into the couch frame. Damien and Maddox came around your front, their crotches scarily close to your face.

“You know what we can take from you, though? Your dignity.” Kage’s hands moved from your back to the globes of your ass. “I could fuck you right here, and there’s nothing you could do about it.”

If the humiliation of being naked wasn’t enough, having the intruders touch you like this was an indignity that would change you forever. A small part of your golden soul blackened, and you didn’t know if it could ever be saved.

Damien gripped your chin, forcing you to look up at the two men. “And we could fuck that mouth of yours. Maybe even pull a few teeth if you dared fight.”

“I bet you’d love it. After all, you have to be all kinds of fucked up to fuck the Winter Soldier,” Kage said as his fingers moved to feel across your thighs.

“Don’t you dare speak about him like that. He’s more of a man than you three put together.” The mere mention of Bucky had your anger returning. You let out a huffed breath before you used the last of your depleting strength to lift your legs and kick Kage in the stomach. He didn’t move, body like a stone statue, but the movement pushed you over the couch and onto the living room floor. The plushness of the cushions did little to soften your fall, a whimpered breath coming from your tired body.

You were just so tired. The more blood you lost, the harder it was to keep going. As your ichor stained the rug below you, you glanced to the blackened television.

“Bucky, what are you doing on the floor? And is that all the stuff from the bed?”

“We’re having a pillow fort movie night. The popcorn is in the microwave.”

“It’s going to be a pain to put the bed back together, you know.”

“Then we’ll just have to sleep here. Don’t worry, I’m sure we can break it in. It’s one new surface I haven’t fucked you on yet.”

No. You couldn’t give up. You owed Bucky your best fight. You had no doubt he would do the same for you.

The assailants closed in again, the same dark-haired asshole taunting you with his menacing grin.

“Fuck you,” you spat, seeing red when he tried to grab you.

Most of the punches you threw didn’t land, but it didn’t matter to you. Your arms were a blur as you screamed and unleashed all the fury you had.

But they just laughed at your efforts. The blood loss had clearly taken full effect with the way you moved slower than you intended, your arms weakening quickly.

“Nice try, toy.” Maddox picked you up by the shoulders before throwing you into the wooden coffee table.

The thin tabletop cracked and fractured instantly, wood splintering around the dent your body left.

The pain had become immaterial, the agony reducing from a boil to a simmer as your ability to feel lessened to the point where nothing was at all. Perhaps it was your body protecting your psyche, or you were dying. Either way, it left you feeling somewhat euphoric.

"She still fighting?"

"Let her be. She isn't going anywhere."

"Dumb bitch thought she stood a chance."

Your dazed state had the men leaving you to finish trashing the house. With no immediate threat, you made your last-ditch attempt. You had to let Bucky know who killed you. You knew it would kill him to not know who attacked you.

Numbed, you took another look at the men. There was nothing too unusual about them, just their distinctive hair colours, eye colours and the symbol they all bore. You hadn’t noticed it at first, but now with your chance to inspect them, you sighted a circular insignia on the front of their black hoodies. A green… octopus?

When Damien threw a plate at you that shattered against your forearm when you raised it to defend yourself, your thoughts were cut off. The porcelain dropped around you, and you picked up one of the pieces. On it was a little drawing of a cat. You and Bucky had done a pottery art class and came home with a few plates. You picked up a second piece, a sob bubbling from your throat when you looked at the two fragments together. A little Alpine that you had drawn, and a little bird that Bucky had drawn with red wings.

You let the remnants of the plate drop to the ground, the once beautiful creation covered with your blood. They really were destroying everything. As Damien continued to vandalise the kitchen, Maddox and Damien tore apart your boxes of photos.

Even with the horror of having your life stripped away, you struggled to look away. You saw the green octopus again, and something in the back of your mind was trying to get out – to tell you what it meant.

The emblem was so familiar, and you turned onto your stomach as you thought. Pulling yourself to a free patch of hardwood flooring, you began writing out the word ‘blonde’ with your blood, trying to give Bucky anything you could.

Kage stopped you after the first word, and it was like there was cotton wool in your ears as he pulled your hand back. You assumed he said something to chastise you, but you didn’t register it.

You could see his expression, though. He was enjoying himself, laughing with his partners as he took your arms and dragged you on your back towards the front door.

When you looked up, you saw his hoodie closer, and that’s when it clicked. Hydra? But Hydra was red? And from what you heard on the news after the Triskelion incident, they were some power-crazed terrorist organisation bent on absolute control. What were they doing in your apartment? And why did they hate Bucky so much?

Bucky hadn’t told you much about his past, and part of you understood. You could tell by the vulnerable look in his eye that he was scared you’d leave him every time the Winter Soldier was brought up, which was rare.

All you knew was that he was under control as the Winter Soldier, and did some horrible things. But you never pressed, and you didn’t need to. You knew enough to know Bucky was a victim, and that was enough.

Good people like Sam and Natasha wouldn’t have continued to stand by him if Bucky was anything more than an innocent, manipulated prisoner of war. Steve would stand with Bucky regardless, but you didn’t blame him for that. Some relationships simply went further than right or wrong, innocent or guilty. Steve would stand by Bucky through thick and thin, just like you would.

But that didn’t explain why these men were here and tormenting you. This was more than just an attack – it was complete and utter destruction. The apartment was in ruins, completely desecrated.

Kage dragged and dumped your body against the entry wall, amongst the torn photos of you and Bucky. Your gaze turned to one where you were both smiling, huddling in close. It was taken on Steve’s birthday. You’d all thrown him a surprise party in the compound. You remember because Bucky had you both wear a comically bad Captain America t-shirt to tease him.

The photo, while tattered, was a reminder. While this moment was pure suffering, life was also full of moments that had your heart full of love. Life wasn’t always full of pain, and this torture was but a brief snapshot in the greater picture of your life.

Now, your heart hurt because you’d experienced such great love you knew what it was like to feel the loss. Tears trickled down your cheeks as you mourned what could have been. You should be experiencing many more birthdays and silly t-shirts, but it seemed that wasn’t what fate had planned for you.

The cries you let out were stricken with grief, and for the first time, the men went silent and just looked at you as if you were human, not just a toy for their enjoyment.

“Talk about a mood killer,” Damien sniggered, but Kage quickly raised his hand.

“Enough. Time to put her out of her misery.”

Your blood turned icy cold, dread settling in your stomach as you whimpered, too drained to run. “Please, don’t. Just leave me. I won’t tell anyone.” A blatant lie, but you had to try. You’d seen their faces, and that alone sealed your fate. "I don't want to die," you said more to yourself than to them.

“Pretty pictures. Too bad they’re a bit stained.” Maddox mocked as he picked up one of the discarded photo albums. It was the heaviest one, full of memories that were now soaked with your blood.

Maddox handed the album to Kage, unbothered by the drips of red that hit the floor. 

They all stood before you as Kage flipped through the pages, his features hardened. “He’s so happy. Let’s see if the monster smiles now.”

Kage slammed the book closed, sealing your fate between his hands. That part of your life was ending, and these three were writing your future.

There was no point pleading with them, and you were too devoid of energy to do more than sit with shallow breaths, awaiting your death.

But one last ounce of adrenaline coursed through your veins as you tried to keep your eyes open. "His name is Bu-"

Kage raised the photo album before slamming it down on your head. It knocked you out instantly, the world going black as your body toppled to the side.

But the reaper didn’t come. Your heart continued beating, lungs filling with air.

Your suffering was due to continue. This wasn’t the end.

#ambswrites #navybrat writes #dark fic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #omc x reader #omc x you #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x you #bucky barnes imagines #bucky #james buchanan barnes #fanfiction

[sgt-seabass]

𝚑𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞

pairing — dark!ransom drysdale x reader w/c — 250 listening to — ♫hate you, ladies code warnings — cockwarming, general dark elements a/n — not beta-ed. we die like men. part of The Basement Spouses second writing challenge.

You’d never wanted this life. It was a reality that even your worst nightmares couldn’t conjure.

After your inherited bookstore, which Ransom had invested in, had gone under, your body became the prize Ransom desired for his payment, and you had no choice but to agree.

Officially, you worked in Ransom’s publishing company. Unofficially, you spent most of the day warming his cock while he worked. And at night, you warmed his bed. For someone who seemed to hate you, Ransom always kept you at his side.

The day was the same as any other. While responding to his emails, you sat in Ransom’s lap, his cock nestled deep in your cunt, pulsing each time you shifted your hips.

“You’re in the way,” Ransom said flatly.

If looks could kill, Ransom would be dead with how you turned to glance at him. There was a spark in the way eyes met, a contest of wills. “Go fuck yourself.” 

He merely chuckled as he always did at your jabs, pushing your back so you were forced down to rest on the mahogany desk. Ransom picked up his laptop, resting it on the new flatness of your shoulders, using you like furniture. “Go on. Tell me you hate me and see what that does to me.”

You couldn’t say no to an offer like that. “I hate you.”

Ransom’s cock swelled, his hips canting up and driving dick deeper. “Keep going. Maybe you’ll be lucky and I’ll fill you with my seed.”

To be updated on when I post please follow @sgt-seabass-library and turn on post notifications.

#tbswritingchallenge #ambswrites #ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x you #ransom drysdale x reader #chris evans #chris evans x you #chris evans x reader

[sgt-seabass]

𝒅𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒍 𝒅𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒍

pairing — vampire!Lee Bodecker x reader w/c — 100 words warnings — vampirism, blood drinking, dark elements a/n — written for The Basement Spouses writing challenge, with the prompt Lee Bodecker + “Be good for me, baby. We wouldn’t want to see those tears again.” this is the first thing i've written in months. thank you to @vellicore for helping me get my muse back and @vonalyn for quelling my anxieties.

The soft flicker of the candle swirled into beautiful hues, the only sound in the room Lee’s soft grunts as he drank your life’s essence. 

For something so macabre, having your blood drained by your captor was surprisingly soothing. 

When he pulled away, mouth covered in your blood, you became cognisant for a moment.

You’d been his thrall for years. Did anyone miss you? You looked at the candle. How many birthdays had you missed?

Lee cupped your face, examining the distress in your eyes, feeding on your emotions like he did your blood. 

A whimper left your lips, and he grinned. “Be good for me, baby. We wouldn’t want to see those tears again.”

To be updated on when I post please follow @sgt-seabass-library and turn on post notifications.

#TBSWritingChallenge #ambswrites #lee bodecker #lee bodecker x reader #lee bodecker x you #lee bodecker imagine #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan x reader #lee bodecker drabble

[sgt-seabass]

How would Nick react in clockwork au if puppy was blearily saying James’ name in her sleep?

𝒔𝒍𝒆𝒆𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒔𝒔

✧˚ · . Nick wants all of you. And he will do whatever it takes to claim your soul.

pairing — mob boss!prime alpha!nick fowler x omega!reader w/c — 1.9k this is a dark fic. 18+ only. AU masterlist. listening to — ♫sleepless warnings —general dark elements (dark AU), a/b/o dynamics, manipulation. a/n — thank you for the ask and interest in the AU! i hope you enjoy. jessica chastain is not a representative of the readers looks i just wanted a gif of nick kissing a forehead lol. not beta read, we die like men.

The first time Nick heard it, he thought it was ghosts whispering that damned name in his ear.

The second time Nick heard it, he realised it was a scarier reality than phantoms.

You were calling for James in your sleep again, an occurrence that happened regularly.

Even after all the work Nick had put into making you his, there was still that subconscious part of you that held onto the past. Even though you smiled at him in your waking hours, someone else had a space in your heart.

It wasn’t like it was unexpected. Nick knew he would be crazy to assume you would have no residual feelings for your lost life. But it still hurt. His omega, calling for someone else.

He wondered what you dreamt. Did you dream of James in a world where he survived? Or were they memories of the past? Did he treat you well? Were you happy?

There was a quirk in your lips, a slight sway of your hips. Were you dancing with him?

Nick considered calling Steve. Doctor Kemp always seemed to have a way of making omegas comply, plus he was one of his greatest allies. But Nick knew that the heavy-handed approach wouldn’t be appropriate here. While Steve’s suggestion of having other alphas use you worked to break you down beautifully, accessing a soul was a task that required a delicate touch.

Slipping from the bed, Nick left you in your peaceful slumber, dreaming of the man you would never have. In nothing more than black sweatpants and a navy sweater, he sat in his chilly office.

For a while, he just kept the lights off and pondered.

If his younger self could see him now, he wondered what he’d think. This was certainly not the life Nick had intended to lead.

But the world was cruel, and so he became crueller. To escape hardship, he became the creator of it. A devil walking the earth. 

Around you, though, he wanted to be good to you. He would never forget when he heard you laugh for the first time. Nick had accidentally tickled your sides while brushing past you, and the sound that came from you was glorious.

Nick sighed, pouring himself a scotch from the decanter. He’d burn the world, but keep you safe always.

After he’d finished his glass, the familiar burn of liquor pooling in his belly, Nick turned to the only other person he trusted the opinion of.

Hal Carter. The alpha worked on Ari’s ranch. While Ari bred omegas using alpha studs, Hal trained them and kept them calm. He was gentle. Those girls were taken well cared of, which was to be expected when they needed to produce pups.

It was an art how Hal could smile and exude calming energy to those around him. His words were always smooth like silk, rolling off his tongue so naturally you can’t help but listen. It helped the omegas stay calm, and they all trusted him. He was still one of the bad guys; all the alphas in his circle were. But he was the best of the bad. Scott Huffman, the one who would take Ari’s bred pups in and raise them on his ranch, he was a close second.

Within thirty minutes of texting him, Hal turned up on the mansion’s doorstep. The sun was barely rising, only subtle hues of gold beginning to grow.

“Thanks for coming so early,” Nick ushered Hal inside, bringing him to the office while the rest of the home remained in a dream state.

“I normally get up by dawn to go hunting anyway, s’no trouble.” Nonchalant as ever, Hal sat himself down in one of the office armchairs in his green plaid shirt and blue jeans.

Nick poured himself another scotch, plopping two ice cubes into the crystal glass. “Want a drink?”

Hal raised a brow, scoffing. “Unless it’s orange juice, no. I ‘ain’t drinking.”

“I can do that,” Nick said, disappearing from the room and returning with a tall glass of juice, a slight shudder of nervousness in his hand when he gave it to Hal.

There was a rawness in the air, as if Nick wasn’t playing a game. He was putting his whole deck of cards on the table for Hal to see. It was hard to trust, but Nick didn’t have anywhere else to turn.

Nick sat in the armchair opposite Hal, swirling the liquid in his glass, and Hal quirked his head. “Look, as much as I love catching up with you, why did you ask me here so urgently? Is something wrong?”

Nick went through the long explanation of your past, how you came into his care, and how you were acting now. Hal listened attentively, face staying blank as the horrors were laid bare. After explaining, Nick sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I want her to dream of me. Dream of her alpha.”

“So, what you’re telling me is you’ve killed her alpha, kidnapped her, had her gang fucked, chased her, and choked her until she passed out, yet you expect her to dream of you?”

There was a beat of silence before Hal spoke again. “Do you really act like her alpha? She’s not a toy, Nick. And she’s not just a pet. You have to be gentle.”

“I don’t know how to be gentle,” Nick sneered, crossing his arms defensively. 

“Bullshit. Every alpha has a gentle instinct deep down. Be the alpha your sister and mother would have wanted you to become.”

Nick growled and stood, throwing the glass at the wall behind Hal’s head, the crystal shattering into a million shards across the dark hardwoods. It was ballsy bringing up his family. The other alpha flinched slightly, but he wasn’t afraid.

Nick puffed his chest, gritting his teeth so hard they were ready to shatter. “That’s a cruel thing to say. You’re pushing it, Hal.”

“It is cruel. But it’s what ‘ya needed to hear. The world is fucked, but her world doesn’t have to be. You’re the one bringing that upon her. You want her to dream of you? Give her memories good enough to dream about. You’ve broken her down, and done the harsh things you needed to. Now you need to build her back up. Without that affection, she will just continue to crumble time and time again. Don't you want to see her smile?”

“More than anything,” Nick grumbled, sitting back in his chair with a hardened expression. He wanted to feel your happiness through the bond. It was like a drug.

Hal drank the last of his juice, setting the glass down gently on the side table. “Then, there you go. Just work to make her smile for you more. Life is good with a happy omega, Nick.”

“She hates what I do, though. And I can’t - and won’t - change that.”

“Then make her existence with you good enough to outweigh that.” Hal proposed the idea like it was easy. Just treat you right, and it would all fall into place.

But was it really that easy?

The chase had changed you. You were more receptive to Nick and seemed more content overall. But he could still see the flickers of fear that lay dormant, ready to wake at any time. And James— Well. Your subconscious hadn’t let him go yet.

Perhaps Hal was right. Maybe you were broken enough that you’d adapt to this life with some positive reinforcement.

After Hal had left, Nick ordered the staff to make you breakfast before he wandered back up to the bedroom, the morning sun beginning to peek past the blinds. Nick took his jumper off, wanting to feel your skin on his. 

You shifted a little in your sleep when the bed dipped from Nick’s weight, his arms looping around you and pulling your naked form close. “...Alpha…?” You asked blearily. It wasn’t often you got morning cuddles like this. Normally, Nick was already working by the time you rose.

“Morning, omega,” Nick kissed your forehead, spooning you so his warm, firm chest was flush with your back. “Nice dreams?”

You stiffened for a moment before nodding, curling into his hold comfortably. “Yeah.”

“Good. I need you full of energy today,” Nick said as he kissed your neck gingerly, a soft contrast to his tight hold on you.

Nick ran his hand up and down your side, fingers running over the bruises he’d left on your skin the day prior when he fucked you rough over his desk.

“Are we playing hunt the whelp?” Your voice wavered nervously. So meek, so small. Nick nearly growled at the thought of hunting you, but he held it back.

Nick cleared his throat, shifting a little, so his hard-on wasn’t too obvious against your ass. He was trying to focus, all his energy going into being nice. But Nick could tell you knew he was turned on, your own arousal signalling through the bond. “No, no. We’re going shopping.”

You perked up at that, turning to look at Nick. Your curious shining eyes had his heart skipping a beat. “Shopping? Like, going outside?”

“Yes. We’re going into town. I’ll buy you whatever you want.” 

The excitement that flooded the bond was overwhelming. Nick had never felt anything like it. You were happy. But there was some anxiety there too. “Won’t people recognise you? What if something goes wrong?” You asked with a growing frown.

Nick shhed you, gently running his finger over your frown and pushing your lips up at the edge so you were smiling. “You’re the safest omega in the world. Plus, Beck and Mace will be there too.”

Your expression turned into a genuine smile. And Nick smiled back.

“Sit up. I need to check your head.” Nick turned to the bedside, getting together his dabbing alcohol and bandages. You always seemed to end up with some injury after Nick had a bad day. It wasn’t overly intentional, but his anger often turned into dark arousal that left you sore and battered but pleasured too.

You’d banged your head on the desk yesterday when Nick shoved you down and caught your forehead on one of his fountain pens. It left a cut, but Beck dismissed it as minor, needing to be covered with a plaster.

Nick pulled away the bandage with you sitting cross-legged in front of him. He hummed, content at the sight of the healing cut. “Looks good, pup. My good girl, healing so well.”

Nick could feel the heat radiating from your skin as he gently cleaned the cut before placing a fresh bandage on the wound.

“Ah, just in time.” Nick put his things away as your breakfast was brought in. Pancakes with maple syrup and strawberries.

You seemed like a fish out of water, and Nick understood that. He was flipping his demeanour for you. This was new for him, but not entirely unwelcome, especially when he felt your ease through the bond.

Nick sat with you, cutting up the pancakes and feeding you small bites. Every so often, you would meet his gaze, a little twinkle in your eye that wasn’t there before.

It wouldn’t always be like this, and Nick knew he had a long way to go in putting your pieces back together.

But it was a task he knew he would never fail. 

He would have all of you.

To be updated on when I post please follow @sgt-seabass-library and turn on post notifications.

#ambswrites #ambs answers #cherished anons #clockwork au #nick fowler x you #nick fowler x reader #nick fowler #sebastian stan #sebastian stan character #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan x reader #Hal Carter #dark fic #nick fowler fanfiction #sebastian stan fanfiction

[sgt-seabass]

Joining in on the clockwork fan train, I have a Drabble prompt if you are interested. Nick often plays fast and loose with reader’s safety, and although he’s a control freak so he thinks of everything to prevent her getting harmed (like using air rifle etc) I wonder how he might react if he goes too far/something goes wrong and she does actually get badly hurt from one of his games. Maybe playtime gone wrong or he misjudged his strength. Would he feel guilt, or shrug it off?

𝒔𝒊𝒑 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒔𝒍𝒐𝒘𝒍𝒚

pairing — mob boss!prime alpha!nick fowler x omega!reader w/c — 1.9k this is a dark fic. 18+ only. part of the Clockwork AU. listening to — ♫ sip u slowly warnings — general dark elements, smut (dubcon due to stokholm, p in v, cunnilingus), choking to the point of passing out and bruising, possessiveness, pet names (pup, puppy, omega), a/b/o dynamics, very light medical elements, reference to past minor character death a/n — i hope you like it! thank you so much for the support and interest in the Clockwork AU! written on my phone. thank you so much to @rookthorne for helping with beta and suggestions 🥺🥺💙 this was meant to be short whoops.

Nick had been insatiable, fucking you for hours and eating you out each time in-between sessions.

After a work deal had gone awry and lives had been lost, he wanted nothing more than to bury his problems in your tight heat. With your essence on his tongue, he could be absolved of his irreverence.

Nick was angry. He didn’t take to fuck ups well.

When he’d heard about an omega retrieval gone wrong that ended with the death of a few targeted girls, he was irate.

Nick had to murder his men for their actions. They were there to capture them, not kill them - professionalism was expected, mandated, in his organisation. Nick didn’t need more red in his ledger, yet it seemed to have a way of seeping in, tainting the pages and bleeding everywhere.

His temper was no more than his inner child locked in an endless cycle of self-flagellation, so he fixated on you to distract himself. He’d created you and turned you into the omega he wanted. However, the problem with manipulating is that you deny yourself the love and support that partnership provides. Nick knew he was fooling himself by thinking you were unequivocally his, so he wanted to show you how good he could make you feel.

The urge boiled beneath his skin, an unbridled need to claim you; to fuck you into oblivion.

Barely keeping himself restrained, he’d carried you to the bedroom just after dinner, and the sun had long set. His need for you continued into the early morning.

By the time the clock hit three am, you were exhausted. That much was evident by the way your eyes struggled to stay open even as you orgasmed. The little sounds Nick pulled from you got whinier and more strained the more your body tried to get its rest.

But there was no rest for the wicked, and Nick was certainly feeling sinful.

“Give me another, puppy,” Nick growled to you, face between your legs before moaning at the taste of his seed and your wet mixing.

“I’m tired, alpha. I can’t.” You whimpered, sweat dotting your brow while your back arched against the silk bedsheets. “S’too much.”

“Uh-uh. You don’t get to decide that. I’ll tell you when it’s enough, omega.” Nick’s voice reverberated against your clit before he gently sucked it, causing your fingers to fist into the sheets from the unrelenting pleasure.

This was Nick’s favourite way to have you. Crumpled from the euphoria he caused you. You’d fought so hard against him, but at the end of the day, you ended up right where you belonged.

In his bed.

Nick started slow, drawing circles around your clit before replacing his tongue with his fingers. He flicked his finger while his mouth pressed kisses along your hip and down your thigh. Nick couldn’t help himself when it came to tasting all of you, so he bit into the supple flesh of your thigh as he kept working your sensitive clit.

Your wail only served to make Nick bite again, closer to your cunt this time. Fuck, your tears were gorgeous. “Does it hurt, omega?” When you nodded in response, Nick slapped your thigh. “Use your words.”

“Ye— Yes. Hurts, alpha.”

“Mm, but you look so beautiful with my marks.” Nick looked at the teeth marks adorning your skin, smirking to himself before turning his attention back to your clit. “Tell me what you want, puppy. Tell me what you need.”

Your thighs clenched, and Nick chuckled dryly as he ground himself against the bed, his erection painfully hard. He wanted to do nothing more than fuck you senseless, but it was worth waiting if it meant he got to see you shatter.

“I need…” You stopped yourself, and Nick could see the embarrassment in your expression. It was beautiful. “I need your mouth, please, alpha.”

“Such nice manners,” Nick praised before giving you exactly what you wanted.

He drank you in slowly, running his tongue over your folds and watching how you responded. You were so tense. As if each muscle was waiting for the anticipated precipice. And Nick would give it to you, but he wanted his fun first.

Deft fingers pulled your folds apart, and Nick groaned at the sight of you. Glistening and inviting. “Such a pretty pussy, pup. Prettiest cunt I’ve ever seen.”

Nick ran his flat tongue up your cunt, starting with long, languid licks that began to gradually get faster. Nick placed a hand on your stomach to stablise you as his broad strokes got shorter, turning into quick flicks across your clit.

He didn’t stop, not tiring even as the clock ticked away on the bedside table.

The tell-tale signs of your impending orgasm started to show as Nick alternated between licking and sucking, his hand running up and down your thigh as the other held you down. Your body tensed, and it goaded Nick to go faster, gripping your flesh tightly.

Nick hummed against your clit, and the dams burst. Like music to his ears, your mewls turned high-pitched as you came, your juices gushing down his chin. Nick had lost count of how many orgasms you’d had tonight, but each one was better than the last. He’d never get sick of this.

“My puppy does love playtime, don’t you, baby?” Nick watched as your glazed eyes looked at him, surprised at the new pet name. Baby. It’s endearing. Intimate. “You’re going to sit back and let your alpha do all the work now, right? Puppies are just too silly to do anything but lay down and get fucked.”

Seeing you so raw, so vulnerable, was bringing out the beast in Nick. The further down this rabbit hole he fell, the harder it was to keep his semblance of control. If you tried to make a run for it right now, he might actually kill you, too lost in the chase of his prey to realise what was happening. But you don’t run. Instead, you shuffled a little up the sheets, so your head rested on one of the satin pillows.

You knew you couldn’t escape, so you prepared yourself to be comfortable. Nick crawled up the bed, cock standing proud between his parted thighs, and he loomed over you. “Are you scared, puppy?”

Nick smiled when you gave him an odd look like you weren’t sure what response he wanted. “You should be.”

His words were the only warning you got before he mounted you, sheathing his dick in your dripping cunt with one swift motion of his hips. Nick let out a growl, pulling out the pillow from under you so he could grip the back of your neck. “Fuck. Fuck. You feel like fucking velvet, omega.”

The teasing nature Nick had earlier was long gone, replaced with a feral alpha desperate to breed. His thrusts were deep, rutting against your hips as his heavy breaths filled the room, mixed with your moans. It was a fucking symphony.

“This little cunt is mine, isn’t it? Tell me,” Nick snarled, pounding into your sore, used pussy without resolve.

“S’yours. All yours,” you sobbed into the cool air, tears streaking down your cheeks.

“That’s right. You’re fucking mine.” Nick moved his hand to rest on the front of your neck. He tiled his head back while his eyes fluttered closed.

It was a complete state of bliss. Nick didn’t look down as he let himself be free. No control, no thoughts. Just alpha.

You moaned with each plunge of his cock, but Nick didn’t notice the way your moans were weakening under the sound of smacking flesh.

Your hands clawed at Nick’s arm, but he didn’t even register it.

It wasn’t until you went quiet altogether that Nick opened his eyes.

Suddenly, cold washed over Nick when he looked down, his hand tight around your neck and your eyes closed. Not even a squeak came from your parted lips.

“Omega? Shit. Omega, open your eyes.” Nick tapped your cheek, but you were completely unconscious. “Puppy, wake up.”

He shook your shoulders, pulling his now soft cock out of you before he placed his finger under your nose. A sigh of relief left Nick when he felt the soft blow of your breath against his skin.

Nick’s jaw clenched, guilt awash over him. He was so lost in the moment he didn’t realise he’d begun squeezing, and he’d choked you out.

Your lack of response concerned Nick, so he sat on the bed, pulling you to his chest. He cradled you, and suddenly he was like his ten-year-old self again, holding the body of his dead sister on the living room floor. “Wake up. Please. I’ll… I’ll get you even more strawberries. You love them, right?”

You didn’t wake. Still soundly asleep and unaware of your distressed alpha.

In making you vulnerable, Nick had actually exposed himself. Desperate and alone, he was nothing without something of his own. Without you.

“Beck! Bring your med kit!” Nick’s voice boomed through the mansion, a prime alpha call.

Only moments later, Beck came barrelling through the door with his doctor’s bag. His eyes widened at the sight of you in Nick’s lap, mottled bruises already beginning to spread over your neck. “What happened?”

“I didn’t realise I was squeezing,” Nick’s voice came out monotone, devoid of emotion. His heart had begun to lock down. He wasn’t ready to lose anyone else.

Beck rushed over, gently taking you from Nick and resting you back against the bed. Your alpha moved away from the bed, arms crossed and expression cold as he watched.

“She’s alive,” Beck commented. You were obviously alive, but hearing Beck’s assurance eased Nick a little. The alpha always managed to calm him down.

There was a flurry of movement as Beck checked you over, Nick watching closely, not moving from his spot. As if he were a statue, frozen by pain.

“She’s going to be fine. I think she could use an IV with some fluids, and I can do a scan of her neck if you’re really worried,” Beck sighed, standing up. “But she’s okay. We could put her in the medical bay?”

“No. She stays here,” Nick snapped back quickly. Beck didn’t flinch, not phased by the icy mood of his boss. “Do the IV here.”

“Yeah, sure. I’ll go get the stuff from downstairs if you want to get her into bed for me. Her body is pretty run down, so I imagine she’ll wake up when she’s got some energy back.” Not waiting for a response, Beck packed his things. On the way out, he passed Nick, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Accidents happen. It’s okay.”

Without further comment, Beck left, leaving Nick staring at you. He could have snapped your neck and not even realised.

Nick ran a hand over his face, the memories of his sister still fresh in his mind; he couldn’t protect her or his mother, but he could keep you safe. You were the only thing that had ever made him feel human.

After the loss of his family, he’d turned into a hardened shell. But something about you and your homely scent cracked his defences. Around you, his heart was exposed. It meant he could love with a burning intensity, but also hurt just as much.

Body tensed, Nick maneuvered you carefully so the sheet and duvet shielded you from the cool night air. You were covered in your slick and Nick’s cum, but washing you was an issue he’d resolve after you’d rested.

Waiting for Beck to return, Nick pulled up an armchair to sit beside you. He’d never let you see this side of him, not for now anyway. He wasn’t ready. But with you unaware, Nick leant forward to press a kiss to your forehead.

“I’m sorry, omega.”

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#ambs answers #cherished anons #ambswrites #clockwork au #nick fowler #nick fowler x you #nick fowler x reader #chris beck #sebastian stan #sebastian stan character #sebastian stan fanfiction #nick fowler fanfiction #dark fic

[navybrat817]

𝑬𝒓𝒂𝒔𝒆 𝑻𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝑷𝒆𝒓𝒇𝒆𝒄𝒕 𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒍𝒅

✧˚ · . a collaboration between @navybrat817 and @sgt-seabass

Stay reformed. Erase this perfect world. Hate left below. The dark stray dog of war. (x)

Pairing — Bucky Barnes x Reader W/C — Almost 5k This is a dark fic. 18+ only. Listening to - Bottom of the Deep Blue Sea Previous part - A Tide of War and Broken Dreams

Warnings — angst, kidnapping, aftermath of attack, injuries, threat of violence against reader, Hydra exists, Bucky whump A/N — Welcome to the next part of our Vengeance AU! Quick reminder that this is a dark fic and things are going to be extremely rough for our reader (and Bucky) in the upcoming parts. Please heed the warnings and we hope you enjoy the ride!

Coming home to you was the thing Bucky looked forward to the most after a mission. Whether you were wide awake to greet him with a smile or curled up in bed sound asleep, the sight of you was like coming home every time. The love of his life, you taught him to believe in dreams again when he lived in a nightmare for so long. While he was darkness and pain, you were light and warmth and hope. You were part of his redemption, his dream he had long forgotten come true.

In hindsight, he should've thanked you more for loving him.

Even as his shoulders sagged from exhaustion, he smiled to himself as he took his keys from his pocket. You drew interlocking hearts with a red marker on the apartment key after his last mission. It was a reminder that the two of you had a home made with love. And that he had someone to come back to.

In hindsight, he should've shown more appreciation for the small things you did for him.

When Bucky got to the door, he wondered if you were awake or asleep since it was still early. Would you wake up if he joined you in bed? He hoped you got enough rest without him, remembering how you tried to get him to stay home. You seemed more nervous than normal for him to leave and it wasn't easy for him to shake, but you were safe there. And once he kicked his boots off and greeted Alpine, he'd wrap himself up in you as he put the mission behind him. He refused to let his work, or past, taint the beautiful space you created together.

In hindsight, he should've listened when you asked him to stay.

Darkness greeted him as he undid the multiple locks and pushed the door open, his senses on high alert when he noticed objects strewn along the floor in the dark. Alpine knocked things over when she had her zoomies, but this was something different. The aura of the room was heavy, and when Bucky stepped inside he could feel the air thicken suffocatingly. He reached for his gun as he listened for any sign of someone in the apartment. When he didn't hear any voices, or heartbeats, he turned on the light switch. He nearly got sick when the smell drifted to his nostrils.

Blood.

It was quickly becoming apparent that something was very, very wrong. Bucky’s heart spiked in a flurry, and while he wanted to freak out, his tactical survival mindset switched on, his emotions temporarily waning. The former assassin and current sergeant trembled as he stepped forward, careful not to track his footsteps through the blood in the hall. If this was a crime scene… He pushed the thought away as he glanced down at a photo of the two of you, the red fluid staining the beautiful memory and drowning out the happiness.

He experienced hell, but it still didn't prepare him for the sight of your living room as he kept his gun trained. Everything from the table to your hard work lay in scattered pieces. The sight of destruction made his stomach turn. It was as if someone wanted to ruin the care put into this place. Even the air was colder, shadows taking over the normally bright space.

It was pure destruction.

Why didn't he get an alert of a break-in? His security wasn't as good as Stark's system, but he should've received something. He knew the signs of a robbery, but this was something else entirely. Whoever did this knew what they were doing and he feared what that meant for you.

"What is that?" he muttered, stepping over broken dishes as he saw something written in blood.

BLONDE

His brilliant and amazing other half tried to leave him a clue.

All his training and thought went out the window as he spotted the knife normally hidden under the couch soaked with blood feet away, screaming your name as he frantically searched for you. He choked on a sob as glass crunched under the boots, the bathroom in the same disarray as the rest of the apartment. The bloody footprints led away from the room. Was this where it started?

You put up a fight, didn't you, doll?

Fury surged through him at the thought of someone hurting and scaring you, for daring to put their hands on you. You weren't trained to fight and you didn't deal with pain well, but you had spirit. You had heart. But he wasn't here to defend you.

In hindsight, he should've been there to protect you.

"Meow."

Bucky pointed his gun at the ground as he spun around, a tear sliding down his cheek when he saw Alpine's normally white fur darkened red. He holstered his weapon before he crouched down to check her. Physically, she was fine, but he knew she was shaken up. So was he. "Hey. I've got you," he whispered, trying to soothe her and himself when she nuzzled his chest.

Keeping her close, he finally made his way to the bedroom. If he closed his eyes, he could imagine you were there, stretched out and smiling as you welcomed him home. He could join you, hold you, and know he was home. But all he saw was an empty bed.

You were gone.

In hindsight, he never should've gone on that mission.

"Who did this, Al? Where is she?" he asked, wishing his cat could tell him what happened. You were kind to everyone. You had no enemies. Everyone loved you.

I love you so much, doll.

Trying one last thing, he got his phone out to call you and hoped by some miracle you'd answer.

You didn't.

"Hi! You've reached the voicemail of…"

Hearing your cheerful voicemail unleashed his tears as he hung up and collapsed on the bed. The scent of your perfume lingered on the sheets as Alpine curled up in his lap and for a moment it was as if you were there to assure him you were hanging on. To not give up on you.

Never. I'd fight for you 'til my last breath.

It took him a moment to dial Steve's number, trying his best to keep it together as he ran a shaky hand through his hair. This was his fault. It had to be. He could blame himself later. For now, he had to find you. He had to bring you home. And he tear apart the blonde monster who dared to lay a hand on you.

"Hey, Bucky. What's going on?" Steve asked as he answered.

There was a beat of silence before Bucky let out a choked sob. He placed his hand over his mouth for a moment, whimpers slipping past his fingers before he got the words out.

"She's gone," he whispered, a tear falling on Alpine's head.

"What?"

"She's gone," he repeated as he cried, the sound drowning out Steve's voice. The last time he broke down like this was in Wakanda, the day he was free of Hydra's hold over him. That was the beginning of a new dawn, like when you entered his life.

But today was the beginning of a brand new nightmare.

Wherever you are, please, hold on.

Pain, by definition, is an unpleasant sensory and emotional experience associated with actual or potential tissue damage, or described in terms of such damage. What you felt as you tried to open your eyes went beyond unpleasant, the physical anguish drawing a groan from you began to sit up. Your body screamed at your mind to lay back down as your vision slowly adjusted to the light, immediately recognizing that you weren’t in your home by the look of the dirty ceiling.

Where am I?

The last thing you remembered were the three strangers, your attackers, standing over your weakened body. You had no clue what shape you were in, but it couldn’t be great judging by the ache you felt just from waking up. You didn't know what you had done to receive their wrath, but they miraculously listened to your plea and didn't kill you. For a moment, you thought the men were going to leave your lifeless body for Bucky to find.

Bucky.

The physical pain shifted to your heart as you imagined him getting back to the apartment only to find it in ruin. You didn’t know when he would return from his mission or how long you were unconscious, but you had to get back to him. He needed to know you survived and he sure as hell wouldn’t just lay there if he were in your shoes. You had to be strong for him, even if you felt weak.

“I’m okay,” you whispered.

Taking a deep breath, you slowly began to push yourself up. The left side of your body protested, but you managed to get in a sitting position after a few seconds. Glancing down, you pulled the flimsy sheet away and expected to see random splotches of dried blood on your naked body. You found none because someone took the liberty of cleaning you and putting an oversized shirt on you.

Who did that?

The only relief you felt was there was no soreness between your legs. They kept your dignity intact and didn't taint that part of your soul. You would take the pain over that.

You gingerly touched your left shoulder, wincing as you felt the wrapping under the fabric. The brunette stabbed you, the flash of the memory in your mind making your stomach lurch. But was he the one who patched up your wound? There were bandages around your feet, too. Who removed the shards of glass? Or were they cruel enough to leave them there?

You fought the urge not to cry when you noticed the cuff around your left ankle attached to a chain. Sniffling, you slowly swung your legs to the side of the bed, the clinking sound momentarily distracting you from the ache as you set your feet on the ground. The musky smell of the filthy room filled your nostrils as you looked around. It reminded you of a basement, but worse. The average size room had no windows. A lone light in the ceiling. A toilet. A sink. And a bucket beside the bed.

The one someone chained you to.

Like a prisoner.

You braced your hands on your knees to keep your breathing even, but it didn’t stop your stomach from lurching again at the reality and stress of your situation. Combined with the ache of your body and the smell on your cell, you managed to grab the bucket just in time before you wretched. You hated throwing up, almost as much as you hated being in pain. You could never put your finger on why you couldn't handle it well. Maybe it was because you had little experience in dealing with it in comparison to someone like Bucky.

"Ouch!" you hissed, shoving the paper away on your desk. "Damn."

"You okay?" Bucky called from the kitchen, his footsteps already heading toward you.

"Paper cut," you pouted, showing him. His look of concern made your heart swell. "Will you kiss it better?

"Poor thing," he said, his tone sympathetic and not chastising as he helped you up. "I'll kiss it once I put a bandaid on it."

"Why do they hurt so much?" you asked as he led you to the bathroom, feeling silly for saying that. It was just a paper cut.

"Because paper is actually jagged and acts more like a saw than a knife blade," Bucky explained, giving your finger a kiss once he cleaned and wrapped a bandage around it. "And there are a lot of pain receptors in your fingers. Cutting through those nerve endings hurts."

"You're so smart," you smiled, your finger tingling as he gave it one more kiss. "I'm just a baby."

"You're not a baby. You're allowed to feel what you feel," he assured you, pressing his lips against yours. "Just be glad it wasn't your foot."

"How would someone get a paper cut on their foot?" you giggled when he smiled.

"It could happen. And if it does, I'll kiss it better."

“I’m okay,” you whispered again after you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand.

A tear rolled down your cheek as you stood up and you couldn’t stop the whimper as you took a step forward. While you didn’t think they left any glass in your feet, it sure as hell hurt to put your weight on them. Your legs shook as you moved toward the sink, which was far from the door. It was slow going, but you put one foot in front of the other. You longed to feel Alpine rub her fur against your leg as you rinsed your mouth out with surprisingly clean water.

At least those bastards didn’t hurt her. Or did they?

You didn’t make a mad dash for the door, not wanting to do more damage to yourself, but you tried to move a little faster. Each step was more painful than the last and you nearly collapsed when the chain couldn’t give any further. You whined as you tried to stretch and touch the door. Of course, you couldn’t reach it, but you were so close.

Yet so far away.

"Come on," you whispered, unable to hold back a sob when you yanked on the chain.

For some reason, maybe it was fear or thinking no one would help, you didn’t scream. It wouldn’t do you any good when you didn’t have much energy to spare. You tried to think of what Bucky or any of the other Avengers would do in this situation as you wiped the tears away. Not like they’d let something like this happen to them. No, you couldn’t think like that. This wasn’t your fault.

The only ones to blame were the ones who took you.

You didn't get a chance to feel along the walls or look around any further when you heard three sharp bangs on the door. Stumbling backwards, you winced as you fell against the mattress and watched the door swing open. You couldn't stop your heart from pounding at the sight of the three men casually entering the room. The ones who ruined your home.

And took you from Bucky.

Your attackers stared you down as you cowered on the bed. They no longer wore the hoodies with the green symbols, each of them clad in black t-shirts and tactical pants. The brunette crossed his arms and looked all too pleased at your present state. The dirty blonde glanced around the room with a sneer, like he was too good to be inside of a dirty cell. The blonde who attacked you first showed no emotion as you hugged your knees to your chest.

Up close, and from your sitting position, the men were large and intimidating in stature. The room felt smaller from the space they took up, threatening to suffocate you. They easily tossed you around your home and you didn't want to imagine the damage they would do to you here. You were a doe in a den of wolves.

Would you manage to get out of the woods?

“About time you woke up, toy,” the brunette said, checking the chain to make sure it was still secure. "I was about three seconds away from dumping water on you."

“She looks like shit,” the dirty blonde commented with a small chuckle.

Heat filled your cheeks. You hadn't looked in a mirror, but of course, you looked awful. Felt like it, too. What did they expect when they nearly beat you to death?

"I guess we didn’t get to properly introduce ourselves, did we? I’m Maddox. That’s Damien. And that’s Kage. We already know who you are, but your name doesn’t really matter.”

You remembered them referencing each other as they attacked you, but you didn’t recognize them from anywhere. Bucky never mentioned them. They were distinct enough to stand out if he had.

Kage didn't acknowledge how you stiffened as he got close to you. Gently pulling on the sleeve of the shirt, he checked your shoulder and glided a warm hand down the other side of your body. Was he going to hurt you again? What about the others? You didn’t see any obvious weapons on them, but that didn’t mean anything. They were strong enough to beat you if you tried to fight. The thought had you hugging yourself tighter when you felt the blonde's breath on your neck.

“Told you the little bitch would puke,” Maddox said, nodding toward the bucket when Kage finally pulled away. You woke up chained to a bed in an unfamiliar place. How were you supposed to react? "You’re not much of a conversationalist,” he added, making you move back against the wall as he stepped closer this time.

There were plenty of things you wanted to say, but you kept your mouth shut.

"You’re really not going to say anything? That’s rude,” Damien said, nudging Kage with his elbow. “Why isn’t she talking?”

“Ask her,” the blonde replied.

“Why aren’t you talking to us?” Damien asked, crouching down and patting your cheek harder than necessary. You didn't want any of them touching you. “We know you’re not deaf, so speak.”

You didn't know much about him, but his tone came across as entitled. Like he expected people to jump at his word. "I’m scared," you admitted.

“You should be,” Maddox mocked, pulling Damien back a little. "But I don’t see what being scared has to do with you not talking. You were pretty mouthy with your whole ‘I’m still winning’ bullshit.”

"I’m scared because you almost killed me," you told them, the words tasting like ash in your mouth. Had they really forgotten that or did they not care?

"But we didn't. We let you live,” Damien said, like you should’ve thanked him for allowing you to still breathe. “Your vocal chords still work. Use them."

"I don’t want to," you whispered. All you wanted to do was go home and let Bucky know you were okay. “I don’t want to talk to any of you.”

The humor left Maddox’s face at your answer. "You say that like we give a shit about what you want. Talk, or we'll cut your tongue out if you refuse to use it."

Fear spiked at the threat, knowing it wasn't an empty one. The man stabbed you in the shoulder simply because you tried to fight back. "Okay, I will," you promised, though you weren’t sure what they wanted you to say. "Thank you for patching me up."

Even though they were the ones who inflicted the wounds, they could've easily let infection set in or not tend to them at all. Your statement didn't get much of a reaction from them though, minus the slight look of surprise on Damien's face. "You should be thankful. Put this roof over your head, too."

"Thanks," you said again. At least you had a bed. "Where are we?"

He burst out laughing. What was so funny? "We're in a room. And here we thought you were smart being a graphic designer and all."

"How did you know that?" you asked when his laughter died down. Did they discover that when they wrecked your place or did they do their research on you?

"Dami's great with computers and systems," Maddox smirked, clapping him proudly on the shoulder. The younger man preened at the compliment. "Your security system's lacking, but the camera loves you."

These monsters hacked your apartment cameras? Invaded your privacy? It was a violation that neither of you deserved. It was how they likely knew Bucky wouldn't be home to help you. "Why were you watching my place?"

"We have our reasons," Kage replied, not expanding on the topic.

Maybe, by some miracle, the cameras picked up on what happened to you. As much as you didn't want Bucky to witness your attack and kidnapping, it could give him clues to your whereabouts since you were only able to write one word in blood. "Are you going to let me go?”

"Kage, I think that hit to the head did more damage than we thought," Damien joked.

"Let's clarify for that baby brain of yours: We're not letting you go, so don't fucking ask,” Maddox stated.

Your heart sank the longer you sat there. "Is it money that you want?" you asked. Had they demanded a ransom from Bucky or anyone else for your release?

"Oh, please," Maddox rolled his eyes, as if you asked a stupid question. "Didn’t we already tell you this isn’t about money? Damien has more than he knows what to do with."

“Then what is it about? I haven’t done anything to you. To any of you,” you pleaded, wishing you were stronger. But was it weak to beg? To want to go free? “I haven’t done anything wrong.”

"How self centered to think this is about you."

"I-I'm not self centered,” you gently argued. You weren’t a perfect person, but you had a good heart and wouldn’t hurt anyone for the world. “I'm just trying to understand."

"Aww. Of course, you are. Because that's the kind of person you are, aren't you?” The brunette grabbed your chin with an iron grip, squeezing hard enough to make you whimper before he let you go. “So kind and understanding and willing to look past flaws? Living in your happy little bubble where nothing can touch you?"

Maybe, in some ways, you did live in a rose colored world. Your life was a happy one overall. Bucky shielded you from some of the things he did and the horrors he went through. Was it a means to keep you safe or to keep you blissfully unaware of the darkness of the world?

“Why did you attack me? You mentioned Bucky-”

You shrieked when Maddox kicked the bucket against the wall, his fingers flexing like he wanted to hit something. Damien had a similar look of fury on his face. Kage was the only one who didn’t physically react, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t upset. “Don’t say his fucking name,” he spoke above a whisper, something dangerous in his voice making you shudder.

“I’m sorry,” you said, not wanting to anger them any further. Bucky worked hard to make amends for the actions he was forced to carry out, at least the ones you knew about. What was the history with these men? The green octopus on their hoodies briefly flashed in your mind. "If you won't let me go and you don't want money, why bring me here? Why didn't you kill me?"

"Because it isn't your time to die yet,” Damien shrugged.

It was both comforting and fearful that they didn't kill you. By bringing you here, they had some sort of plan. Besides violence, what else were they capable of and what would they do to you in the process?

"Death is a privilege earned through pain. And you need a hell of a lot more before you get there," Maddox chastised as you put on what you hoped was a brave face. Were they going to try and break you? No, you wouldn't let them. "Plus, you’re Damien’s first girlfriend, so we can’t get rid of you just yet."

"Shut the fuck up," he snapped, his cheeks red as he glanced at his friend. "I’ve had plenty of girlfriends."

You wondered if he chained them up in dirty rooms like this, but chose not to ask.

"What, in high school?" Maddox chuckled.

"Fuck off. I’m not a teenager!"

As the two of them bickered, Kage continued to stare at you with an unreadable expression on his face. And his eyes? They took on an unnatural shade of blue that sent another shiver down your spine before you blinked, the irises going back to normal. Maybe the light in the cell was playing tricks on you.

His eyes lingered on you still as he addressed the others. "That's enough. Go over the rules."

Damien huffed, but conceded. Kage's words seemed to hold weight for him. "Since we're kind enough to let you stay here until we decide to get rid of you, you’ll do what we tell you."

Meaning, until they decided to kill you. Your eyes burned with unshed tears as you nodded. Maybe if you behaved, you could bide your time and find a way out of this. Or at least hold on until Bucky found you. “What are the rules?”

“So glad you asked,” Maddox smiled. “First rule. You’ll eat three meals a day, whatever we give you, without complaint. You don’t eat it, we’ll shove a fucking tube down your throat. Is that understood?”

You nodded again. You’d eat so you could keep up your strength. It was also better than starving.

“A nod isn’t a good enough answer. Say, ‘yes, Maddox',” he said slowly.

The urge to snap was quickly smothered by fear and uncertainty. “Yes, Maddox.”

“That’s a good girl,” he said, a darkness in his eyes that made your skin crawl. “Next rule. You’ll brush your teeth after each meal, but you’re not allowed to keep your toothbrush. Don’t want you trying to use it as a weapon.”

“Why do you want me to brush my teeth?” you couldn’t help but ask. They harmed you and kept chained you in a cell, but cared about your hygiene?

“Because we don’t want your teeth to rot," Damien answered, a wide smile on his face. "If you lose them, it'll be because we knocked them out or pulled them out.”

You refused to throw up in front of them, but you were pretty close as your stomach lurched. These men were sick, but they wouldn't have those smiles on their faces once Bucky got his hands on them. "Brush my teeth after each meal and give the toothbrush back when I'm done."

"Like a fucking parrot. So proud," Maddox muttered, holding up three fingers as you hung your head. Did they have to be so rude? "Rule three. Don't lay in bed all day, Get up, walk around, stretch. Just because you aren’t allowed to leave this room doesn’t mean you can be lazy while we work.”

You wished you were working. You longed to be at your computer, bringing your visions to life. Maybe you could piece together the damage they had done once you were free and pick up where you left off.

"I'll walk around," you said, wondering how long your feet would take to heal.

“And rule four. You don’t give us the silent treatment," Damien said, narrowing his eyes. "If we ask you a question or initiate a conversation, you're expected to answer. You don't get to ignore us after we let you live."

Did they think you owed them something for not killing you? That it was a privilege for you to live? "I'll talk," you said, only if you had to. "What happens if I break a rule?"

"We'll punish you," Maddox smirked, his dark eyes sparkling with excitement as you shifted uncomfortably on the bed. "Please, break a rule."

"We'll go over punishments later," Kage said, checking the time on his watch. "We need to feed her. Let's go."

You got unsteadily to your feet as they moved toward the door, attempting one last plea. "Please, let me go," you begged, immediately regretting your words when three pairs of eyes glared in your direction. You couldn't take it back, but you couldn’t stop either. “Bu- My boyfriend will come looking for me if you don’t. He'll get me out of here.”

All you wanted to do was go home.

“We’re counting on him to look for you,” Damien smiled.

“One last rule for now,” Kage added as Maddox walked toward you with a scowl. “Don’t say his name or ever ask to go back to him.”

Before you could back away, the brunette deliberately stepped on your foot. If that wasn't bad enough, he pushed a finger against your stitched shoulder. A wounded sound left your mouth as searing pain shot up and down your arm and leg. You were barely able to make out his face as black spots danced in front of your eyes.

"Order comes through pain," he said, pressing his boot in more as you sucked in a breath. He released your foot seconds later and harshly shoved you to the bed as your chest heaved. "You better get used to it."

"Kage just changed her bandages before she woke up," Damian snapped when you gripped your shoulder, your body still shaking a little.

"Oh, boohoo. She can lick up any of the blood she spills. She'll need the hydration," Maddox said before the cell door slammed shut, their footsteps fading into nothing.

Reaching for Bucky's dog tags around your neck for comfort, something to remind you that you weren't alone, you remembered they were gone. They took them from you. The floodgates opened, soaking the sheet with your tears. Your captors terrified you and you couldn't figure out their angle. They had an issue with Bucky, but hadn't asked any questions about him or the Avengers. They hadn't tortured you for any kind of information. What could you as a civilian tell them anyway?

What did they want?

I'll hold on, Bucky. I'll try and be strong for you.

Your boyfriend would find you. He wouldn't give up until he did. But it didn't stop you from crying in your cold cell. And it didn't stop the blinking red light in the corner capturing it all, documenting the next chapter of your nightmare.

Our poor reader. More to come soon. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

#navybrat writes #ambswrites #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #omc x reader #omc x female reader #omc x you #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x female reader #sebastian stan x you #collaborative writing #dark fic #james buchanan barnes

[sgt-seabass]

I heard you escaped Steve's home!

But is the man you bump into in the woods a friend or foe?

𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒌 𝒔𝒊𝒅𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒎𝒐𝒐𝒏

✧˚ · . 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘦𝘴𝘤𝘢𝘱𝘦𝘥 𝘚𝘵𝘦𝘷𝘦 𝘒𝘦𝘮𝘱. 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘧𝘢𝘳 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘴𝘢𝘧𝘦.

pairing — werewolf!bucky x reader w/c — 1.8k this is a dark fic. 18+ only. listening to — ♫ dark side of the moon, suisside warnings — general dark elements, allusion to steve kemp being a cannibal and holding women captive, reader is missing her left arm, non-major character death, reference to violence, reference to stabbing injury, werewolves lol, smut, non-con turned dub-con (p in v sex), breeding kink, knotting, tongue play kinda, possessiveness, monsterfucking, a kinda nice ending lol a/n — written on my phone. not beta read. navy you fucking menace look what you made me do 😌 thank you to @rookthorne for letting me scream at you about this.

You’d done it.

Steve was dead.

After the locking mechanism to your cell had failed due to a storm overhead, you’d managed to get hold of a butcher's knife in the kitchen.

Steve hadn’t seen it coming when you plunged the knife into his chest while he napped on the couch. He didn’t die immediately. There was a struggle, and you sustained a stab wound to your side when Steve almost overpowered you.

It was hard as Steve had already given you a disadvantage. Several days ago, he had taken your left arm for his sick purpose.

But he was too weak from your sneak attack, and he collapsed on top of you with his dying wheeze.

You’d tried to free other girls, but you were the only one left. And when you’d found Steve’s phone, you were unsurprised to find there was no reception because of the heavy rain that battered down on the roof.

You dressed in one of Steve’s warm sweaters and sweatpants, tucking his phone into your pocket to keep it safe from the rain.

The left sleeve of the sweatshirt swinging empty, covered in his blood and your own, you stumbled out into the night.

The rain was pouring down, lightning flashing across the sky before the thunder rumbled. It was the kind of weather that made you want to snuggle into bed with a book and a cup of tea. Instead, you were stuck trying to find a neighbouring property.

Your bare feet sunk into the muddy earth as you dragged yourself into the woods surrounding Steve’s property.

Asshole. Living in the middle of nowhere.

You cursed Steve’s decrepit soul as you wandered into the forest. The flashes of light helped you make your way through the darkened trees, but it felt as if you were walking in circles, with no sense of direction to guide you.

After some time, you stopped for a break, your legs tired, and your body fatigued. You leant against the trunk of a tree, breaths coming out in short pants. Finally, the rain began to ease, the storm passing. The clouds opened up, allowing the moon to be revealed.

You marvelled at it for a moment—a beautiful full moon.

If this is where you were destined to die, it was pretty at least.

The sounds of wolf cries into the night sounded, but they fell on deaf ears as you focused on keeping yourself conscious.

Your hand clutched at your left side where Steve had stabbed you, the wound throbbing and making you woozy. Maybe you could rest a little. Just sit and close your eyes for a while.

You slumped against the bark, your legs beginning to give way as your vision blurred with a vignette at the edges. Was this your final curtain call?

The wind howled through the trees as you fell to your side, your blood mixing with the mud. You were just so tired.

Another cacophony of animals sounded, growls and barks nearby. But it didn’t matter, not when your body was ready to bid the moon an eternal goodnight.

With a grunt, you rolled onto your back, tears swelling as you gazed at the glowing full moon.

I’m not ready to die. Mr Moon, won’t you grant me a second chance?

Your eyes closed, and everything went dark and silent.

It was hard to discern what you noticed first as you came to.

Was it the snarling and panting? The wet slobber of a large tongue across your skin? The fur that tickled you? Or the cock that was nestled at your entrance?

Definitely the last one.

You opened your eyes with a gasp, and you screamed at the sight of the thing on top of you.

A monster. Pearly white sharp teeth, a large imposing figure, and dark fur that covered its whole body.

You were pinned down on your back by a werewolf. Like a picture book come to life.

The wolf-man didn’t seem perturbed by your screams. He was feral enough as it was. His drool dripped from his snout onto your chest, your clothes already torn away while you were unconscious.

Shit, the phone. You tried to sit up to find it, but large claws dug into your skin as a warning not to move.

“Are you going to kill me?” It was a bold move asking the beast a question, but he didn’t answer, instead licking a long stripe up your neck and over your cheek.

The werewolf licked at your side where your wound was, and you gasped when you glanced down to see it healed. Did he save you?

“What—? I— I don’t understand—“ You were silenced when the wolf brought his tongue to your lips, invading your mouth with his wet muscle.

You tried to squirm, but the beast held tight as he fucked your mouth with his tongue, his huffs getting deeper as growls rumbled from him.

His inhumanly large cock prodded at your entrance, your eyes going wide when you felt the way his natural lubricant gave him an easy slide in.

The werewolf pulled back with a howl as he sunk himself into your waiting heat, his fur puffing up and tail going rigid.

It was all too much. You’d expected death, and yet, you were at the mercy of a beast instead. The pleasure that came the deeper he got, and the more he stretched you was enough to have you howling too.

You felt full to the brim, and he was just over halfway. “Ah! Stop! You’re not going to fit!”

But the beast kept going. He curled his arms around you, cradling you against the forest floor before biting into your collarbone to stabilise himself.

He ignored your cries as he rutted deeper, rocking your body with his as he made you take his entire length.

You felt a little ridge when he reached the fuzzy fur at the base of his cock, and it was enough to have your nerves alight with arousal.

The scent of this mysterious man had your head swirling as if you had inhaled an aphrodisiac. His very being was turning your body into what he needed. A fleshlight to fuck his seed into.

He kept you close, sweat beginning to sheen across your skin with the heat radiating from him. When the beast started to thrust deep and hard, your fingers dug into his fur to hold on.

The beast whimpered when you touched him, and you properly got a look at him. Hulking and massive with red eyes that shone like a bright ruby. He was breathtakingly beautiful in a morbid way. A beautiful horror you couldn’t look away from.

You ran your hands down his arms, only then noticing that one arm wasn’t furry at all. It was metal, but the appendage had taken a beastly form too, so it suited the rest of him. It was his left arm, just like yours.

When your eyes met, the wolf thrust particularly deep, causing you to moan out. And you could swear there was almost a smile on his snout.

Resuming his brutal pace, the werewolf began fucking without resolve, like nothing more than an animal desperate for its primal release.

You had no choice but to hold on as he bit into your shoulder, holding you still like his prey as he panted and groaned, cock swelling bigger as he started getting rougher.

“Fuck! I can’t—“ A large paw covered your mouth, silencing any further words.

You were ready to keep protesting until the beast changed his angle, his sharp nailed feet digging into the dirt, and the bulbous tip of his cock pounding against your g-spot.

Stars burst behind your eyes, and your body began to shake uncontrollably from the absolute bliss that took over.

He didn’t stop. And before long, your toes began to curl as an orgasm approached.

Sensing your tensing body, the werewolf growled in your ear as if he was beckoning you to cum for him.

You let go, allowing the intense orgasm to wash over you.

Your sounds were muffled behind the man-beast’s paw as you came, your feet kicking at his back and ass as you shook. It was like nothing you’d ever felt before.

The wolf watched it all, drinking in the sight of you.

You felt the ridge at the end of his cock begin to get bigger, the ring of muscle catching at your entrance. It was a little painful as the knot pulled at your entrance with each feral thrust, but luckily the werewolf buried himself deep.

His pelvis ground against you as he whimpered and yipped.

An odd barked growl was the only warning you got before the knot swelled fully and plugged you.

The first shoot of cum entered you, and you moaned at how warm it was. Just like the rest of him. You closed your eyes, allowing yourself just to feel as you were filled with the seemingly never-ending stream of release.

The wolf moved his paw from your mouth, placing it on your belly where his seed was planted deep.

It gave you tingles, how his nails raked across your skin, not enough to cut but enough to leave marks.

He massaged your belly, causing some of the cum to seep around his knot, the pressure too much. You cried out, placing a hand over his to stop him. It felt odd.

The wolf looked at you, his head quirking and blood-red eyes narrowing. Was he insulted you tried to stop him?

“Mine.”

You were shocked at the deep timbre and surprisingly sultry tone of the werewolf. It was the first word he’d spoken, and it was enough to have your thighs clenching against his hips.

“It’s too much when you—“

“Mine.”

Alright. So he wasn’t a conversationalist. “Y-Yes. I got that bit. Uhm. Please don’t push on my—“

“Mine. Home.”

“Stop cutting me off— Wait. Home?” You asked incredulously, confused by the new word in the wolf’s vocabulary. But it started to make more sense when the man-beast picked you up, holding you to his chest as his knot kept you connected. He was taking you home.

He began walking, and you sighed at the sight of your clothes and Steve’s phone discarded in the mud.

So much for an escape.

“Do you have a name?” You conceded. If the beast was taking you home, the least you could do was know his name. Although, maybe he’d turn human again? What would he look like?

“Bucky.”

“Thanks for healing me, Bucky.” You murmured awkwardly, and the beast huffed in response. His knot finally let you go, so he moved you to his hip, carrying you like precious cargo even when his fur began to get wet with the cum that seeped from your core. “Do you know more than three words?”

“Mine. Home. Bucky. Mine.”

An amused snort left you. “That’s… not what I meant.”

You curled yourself into the werewolf’s fur. Despite the circumstances, he saved you. He made you feel good when all you’d experienced was pain and suffering.

For the first time in a long while, a smile graced your lips. This was undoubtedly a fate better than death.

“Pretty girl. Pretty smile.”

You glanced down, embarrassed from the compliment, just in time to see Bucky’s tail begin to wag. “So you do know more than three words.”

To be updated on when I post please follow @sgt-seabass-library and turn on post notifications.

#ambs answers #navy 💙 #ambswrites #Bucky Barnes #dark bucky barnes #werewolf bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #Steve kemp #dark bucky barnes x you #dark bucky barnes x reader #sebastian stan character #sebastian stan #dark fic #bucky barnes imagines #bucky barnes fanfic

[sgt-seabass]

hi! can i request steve kemp where reader lashes out during dinner one day? then he gets angry because he was being merciful lately and puts reader in their place. maybe he grips the readers jaw while he yells at them because i’m a whore for that 😩

𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒅 𝒈𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒔

✧˚ · .  𝘚𝘶𝘯𝘧𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘥𝘢𝘥𝘥𝘺.

pairing — steve kemp x little!reader w/c — 1.3k this is a dark fic. 18+ only. warnings — little!reader, dd/lg elements, violence towards stuffies, implied kidnapping, referenced murder, threats, degradation, pet names (sunflower), minor violence against reader, blood play, cannibalism, yelling a/n — omg thank you so much for this ask. i love it. i don't see steve as the type to yell when he's angry (unless you bite his dick or smth) so i hope you like the way i went with this. not beta read. i hope you enjoy!

It’s not like Steve wanted to hurt you.

He had plenty of other outlets for his violent tendencies, but you were meant to be something relaxing for him.

And when you weren’t, it could easily send him into a rage.

The thing about Steve was that his wrath didn’t present as outward anger. He never raised his voice. He was rough with you physically, but his demeanour remained scarily calm, and he was always plotting his moves one step ahead of you.

You were his predictable sunflower, after all.

Cute. But oh so dumb at times.

This evening, Steve knew he’d have an issue on his hands the moment he got you from your cell, a defiant look in your eye that spelt trouble with a capital T. Even in your little space, a term Steve had learnt, you had your moments of fighting. You never were a big talker, but Steve could read your behaviours like a book.

His victims always had a hard time adapting. The thing was, you were holding onto your life while they lay in pieces in Steve’s cold storage.

With your dress flouncing with each step, a teddy hanging from your hand and Steve holding your other, you were brought to an immaculately set dining room table. The presentation of candles, flowers and shining silverware was romantic, but given the circumstances, Steve could tell your heart wasn’t in it. Your eyes didn’t light up for him, instead, they were filled with unshed tears.

It was insulting. He’d gone to all this effort just for you.

“I want to go home… Daddy, please let me go home.” You sniffled, clutching at your bear. He was missing a leg. Mr Bear had lost his limb when you misbehaved last week. He’d be a stump at this stage with your attitude.

“Stop being silly. Sit down.” Steve pressed down on your shoulders, forcing you into the wooden seat.

You sat stiffly, but Steve brushed it off. Once you tried the food, perhaps your mood would improve.

Steve watched from the kitchen counter as you shuffled Mr Bear to sit in your lap. He hadn’t bargained on a third wheel, but you’d grown attached to the stuffie since he brought it home from the hospital gift shop. You listened better with little friends, so Steve took the small win.

With a hum, Steve moved around the kitchen, plating your amatriciana pasta in pretty swirls. He could feel your beady eyes observing him, making him smile.

You were curious, always watching him. Steve appreciated your inquisitive nature because it meant you were interested in him. His little sunflower likes to watch.

Steve brought the pasta to the table, your eyes turning to the dish once it was placed down. Your lips pursed, fingers digging into your bear.

Did you know? Surely, there would be no way you could tell the difference just from the look. Steve sat down next to you, his own plate mirroring yours.

“Don’t let it get cold,” Steve commented, swirling the pasta around his fork before taking a big bite. “It’s delicious. I made it just for you.”

Nervously, you picked up your fork with little teddy bears engraved in it, picking at the pasta sauce. You were moving the bits of meat away.

Steve frowned, placing his hand over your wrist. “Don’t be rude and pick at your food.”

“What is it?” You questioned as you moved away the little shreds of pink meat.

“Pancetta. It’s pork,” Steve lied. The pancetta was actually called Laura.

You’d never eaten Steve’s desired cuisine before, so he wanted to start you on something small.

You turned your nose up. Steve’s eyes narrowed. You had better intuition than he had given you credit for.

“Eat the pasta, sunflower. This is your first and only warning.” Steve’s voice had lost its usual nonchalant tone. He wasn’t fucking around anymore.

“I’m not hungry,” you muttered, and Steve scoffed. He’d purposely not fed you all day so you’d be hungry, so he knew you were bluffing.

It seemed you were growing bolder in saying no to him, and Steve hated it. The broken angel he found on your first night in your cell was growing her wings back. And it was time for your feathers to be clipped— No. Snapped off.

Steve sat back in his chair, considering you. If a gentle approach wasn’t going to work, well, maybe he just needed to scare the shit out of you. It seems to work on his other victims just fine. He wasn’t even that mad, more irritated. But if he needed to act angry, he could do that.

“Right.” Steve tilted his neck, letting his bones pop to release the rising tension in his body. Your frame shook at the sound. If you wouldn’t obey him, he would have to take the alternate route.

Steve would worm his way into your head, turning your mind into his possession, not something you could control of your own volition. But first, you needed to be vulnerable.

There was an almighty whack when Steve grabbed your head and slammed your forehead into the table, not even a gasp leaving you with how little time you had to react. A split opened on your hairline instantly, blood trickling down your face and dripping onto your bear.

“Do you think I’m fucking around, huh?! When I tell you to do something, you fucking do it!” Steve gripped your face tightly between his fingers, his spit hitting your face as he yelled at you.

Your tears quickly began flowing, and Steve thought it was the prettiest sight he’d ever seen. With the deep red ichor sliding down your face, and your tears mixing in, it was a sight to behold.

Beautiful.

“Do you want to die? Because when you don’t fucking listen, you push me closer and closer to the fucking edge,” Steve growled, and you quickly shook your head with a sob.

“I— I don’t want to die!” You cried, and Steve pulled your face closer to his.

“Then listen to me, you dumb useless baby. You’re making me regret keeping you. I cooked this meal for you, and you’re going to eat it, or I will shove it down your throat myself.”

You let out a mighty wail, shaking with fear as Steve held you so tight there would be bruises left on your skin.

Steve had got precisely what he wanted. You hooked on his fishing line, ready for the slaughter. But instead of gutting you and selling you to the highest bidder, Steve wanted to keep you in a tank away from all the other fish.

Steve let you go, shoving your face away and ignoring your whimpers. He ripped the bear from your grip, putting it on a spare chair away from you. You couldn’t even bring yourself to ask for it back in your scared state, your bottom lip trembling miserably.

“Poor Mr Bear, always bearing the consequences of your actions,” Steve taunted, loading up your fork with food and bringing it to your mouth. The ‘pork’ (Laura) flecks stood out of the red sauce, and Steve could see the way you hesitated.

“Open that pretty mouth for me, sunflower, or Mr Bear loses an arm.”

That seemed to be all the extra pressure you needed, your head still bleeding as you leaned forward and took the food into your mouth.

You scrunched your eyes closed, Steve raising a brow. Were you expecting a horrible taste?

Confusion flooded your features as you chewed, and Steve patted your cheek. “It’s not bad, is it?”

“It’s… It’s nice...” You said with astonishment, and when Steve brought another forkful to your mouth, you didn’t hesitate to eat it.

Steve smiled.

His little sunflower was growing up.

Steve filled his fork with pasta, before swiping his finger through your blood and smearing your crimson across his food. You watched, mesmerised, as Steve ate his tainted food with a satisfied moan. “Mm, divine. See? Date night isn’t so bad, is it?”

To be updated on when I post please follow @sgt-seabass-library and turn on post notifications.

#ambswrites #ambs answers #cherished anons #steve kemp #steve kemp x you #steve kemp x reader #steve kemp x y/n #sebastian stan #dark fic #sebastian stan character #sebastian stan fanfiction #steve kemp imagine #sebastian stan imagine

[sgt-seabass]

For your open requests: Omega!Reader + Dark Alpha!Bucky + Heat Triggered + “You really should be more careful in the field, doll. You never know what could have happened if they found you. But, it’s okay, I’m here now. I’ll take care of you.”

𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒅

pairing — dark!alpha!bucky barnes x avengers!omega!reader w/c — 1.6k (was meant to be a drabble, whoops) this is a dark fic. 18+ only. warnings — dark bucky, a/b/o elements, choking, general dark themes a/n — beta-ed by @sweeterthanthis and looked over by @navybrat817 and @maladaptivexxdaydreaming. my brain has been in a self-critical place recently, so thank you friends for helping me get this out.

The world was cruel.

You knew it as soon as you presented as an omega.

Your mother cried. Your father was so angry he punched a hole in the wall. Your friends turned up their noses, and everyone started to treat you as lesser.

You were no more than the bottom of the barrel.

That was until aliens invaded New York, and you presented for the second time. This time, your powers became apparent after being struck with a weapon alight with electricity. Hawkeye tried to save you, but as it turned out, he didn’t need to.

The aliens used advanced technology, something you quickly learned you could manipulate. You could feel the electrical currents and your mind's eye could visually see the circuit paths to infiltrate any electronic device.

Unsurprisingly, the Avengers took you in for their training program only weeks later.

While New York rebuilt, you trained.

In the sparring circle, no one cared what designation you were. Opponents threw their punches hard regardless. And you learnt what it meant to be an agent; to be respected by your peers.

In the years that followed, after the rise and fall of S.H.I.E.L.D., you met Bucky Barnes. His friend, none other than Captain America, had found him not long after being fished out of the Potomac River.

He was damaged, but who wasn’t? You all had your vices.

You’d tried to befriend him while others cowered away, but all you ever got was a narrowed glance in return. It was obvious he didn’t like you. That much was evident with how he’d sit as far away from you as possible or leave the gym when you entered, not even acknowledging your existence. Asshole. You’d tried to be kind since every other agent wanted nothing to do with him, but if he wanted to be a dick, so be it.

It’s fine. You didn’t need Bucky's approval. But you needed him to be civil on missions after you were placed on the same team. Which he seemed to be, for the most part. The occasional snide comment was passed.

“You really should be more careful, agent. You almost got hit.”

“Perhaps you should spend more time training and less time making yourself look pretty. Nice hair does nothing to assist on missions.”

“Stop dragging behind, agent. I can’t help you when you get your ass beat.”

But overall, it was bearable. Plus, you’d always come out of those missions with a shit-eating grin when you proved him wrong, using power and prowess to take down enemies effortlessly.

You may be an omega, but you were powerful. And that felt good.

But the higher you climb, the harder you fall.

And you were plummeting.

You’d been on heat suppressants since you entered the Avengers tower all those years ago. The medicine helped to reduce your omega scent to barely nonexistent and stopped the quarterly throes of heat.

Bruce always provided you with the medication you needed, but something tells you he might have made the batch wrong.

You’re standing in the lab of a Hydra base, one of many that still exist. Cut off one head, and two shall take its place. The cramps that are overtaking your body are intense, and they almost have you blacking out on the floor from the pain.

Sweat beads along your brow, your tactical suit feeling suddenly claustrophobic, the fabric too tight with how hot you’re getting. Your fingers grip the side of the metal counter, shuddering breaths coming from you.

It was all wrong. There’s no way you’d just entered your heat, right?

The whimper that bubbles in your throat indicates otherwise. You can still smell the alpha scent coming off the bodies of the Hydra agents near your feet. You’d taken them down shortly before the cramps began. And now all you want to do is scent their cold corpses.

Fuck. This is unprofessional.

God, Bucky is going to wring your ass for this.

A particularly sharp shoot of pain has you gasping and keeling over, your head resting against the cold counter, the various bottled substances around you rattling.

You bang your fist against the metal, frustrated tears welling in your eyes.

It all becomes worse when a phenomenal scent wafts into the room. Like a forest fresh after a storm. Earthy, woodsy, and cozy. It’s the kind of smell that entices adventure, to find the unknown hidden within the humid forest.

You’d know that smell anywhere.

Your legs give way, and you slide to the tiled floor. Heat pools in your core, slick beginning to coat your folds.

You look away when Bucky enters, but you can hear the way he sniffs into the air with a dry, mocking chuckle.

“You really should be more careful in the field, doll. You never know what could have happened if they found you. But, it’s okay, I’m here now. I’ll take care of you.”

Doll? He’s never spoken to you so softly before. Confused, you turn to look at him, and fuck, you want to jump him. Hair that’s just begging to be pulled on, that damn silver arm and beefy stature. He’s the picture of a perfect alpha.

You’ve always been attracted to him. How could you not be? Despite his shit attitude, he is a fucking Adonis.

You take a deep breath, attempting to compose yourself and not drool. “I am careful. There must be something wrong with my meds. Blame Bruce and not me,” you snipe, your fever beginning to worsen with each second, your tactical suit sticking to your skin uncomfortably.

“Oh, no, you can blame me for that. I swapped them with placebos,” Bucky says nonchalantly, moving to lean against a nearby counter with a smirk.

The shock freezes you, your mind momentarily short-circuiting. “What?”

“How else was I meant to mate you, omega?” Like it’s a simple, obvious answer, Bucky shrugs his shoulders, nostrils flaring as he continues to take in your scent.

“But— but you hate me. You can’t stand being near me.”

Bucky lets out a growl, and it has your pussy clenching around nothing. “I can’t stand being near you knowing you’re not mine, knowing I couldn’t smell the real you. I need to fuck you, bite you, consume you. But I couldn't do that with those drugs pumping through your system. You have no idea how difficult it was holding myself back with you around, omega.”

His words give you clarity, and you recall all the moments he’d looked at you. In the gym. In the common areas. On missions. In the quinjet after. Pupils dilating, shoulders squared, jaw clenched. You thought he acted like that because he hated you. But it’s because he wants you.

Bucky starts to approach, but you frantically scramble backwards across the floor, covering yourself in the blood of the dead agents as you pass their bodies. “G-Get away from me. I’ll tell everyone what you did. I-I’ll tell Bruce. Steve. Anyone who will listen.”

“Oh, omega, who do you think helped me set all this up? Don’t you think we’ll make a great duo? The little electric omega and her alpha,” Bucky laughs, not stopping his long strides.

His scent is getting more robust and enticing, and it's hard to hold back the moan that wants to escape from the mere smell of him. “Fuck off. You’re not my alpha.”

“I will be.”

Bucky gets closer, and in a split-second decision, you extend your arm and use your powers. You’d never dared try this before, but there was no time like the present.

You feel the currents and wires of Bucky’s arm, your eyes fluttering as you follow the electric path until you find the needed area. You clench your fist, shutting down the primary receptor, and his metal arm goes limp like dead weight.

Bucky bows to the side for a moment before he straightens himself. Even with the arm disabled, he has the strength to hold up the hunk of metal like it's feather-light. His grin widens. “You cannot stop me, even with your tricks, sparky. Give in to me, and I’ll make it all better, omega.”

A whine rips through you the moment his hand touches your knee, the simple touch sending need coursing through you. You look around, but there's nothing there to help you. No electronics nearby as Bucky corners you against the lab counter.

Pulling your gun is dumb, you know this, but you do it anyway. You unholster your handgun, whipping it up and aiming it at Bucky’s legs, just to get him to back off. He’s lost his goddamn mind.

The super soldier doesn't take kindly to the threat. Before you can aim it at him, Bucky grabs your wrist, nearly crushing your bones in his grip before he spins you in the blood on the floor, allowing him to snake his arm around your neck with your back flush to his chest.

The pain in your wrist causes you to yelp and drop the gun, the weapon clattering against the ground as you wheeze. Bucky’s forearm, tight against your throat, begins to squeeze. Even with his metal arm dormant, he still easily overpowers you. “Didn’t have to be like this, sparky. Could’a been nice and sweet.”

“S-Stop, Bucky–” You claw against his arm, but the fabric covering it was bulletproof, so your nails can't even dig in. “L-Let me go.”

“That’s enough, omega. Sleep,” Bucky’s hot breath fans against your ear as he nips at your lobe. “And when you wake up, I’m going to fuck you like a goddamn animal. You’ll be screaming my name so loud the whole compound will hear how good my cock feels.”

To be updated on when I post please follow @sgt-seabass-library and turn on post notifications.

#ambswrites #bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #dark bucky barnes x reader #dark fic #marvel #mcu #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #sebastian stan #sebastian stan fic #bucky barnes x you #dark bucky barnes x you

[sgt-seabass]

Hey Ambs!

Drabble request!

Being Dark Daddy Lloyd’s good little puppy…

𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒅 𝒔𝒊𝒅𝒆

✧˚ · . 𝘓𝘭𝘰𝘺𝘥 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘶𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘱𝘶𝘱𝘱𝘺.

pairing — lloyd hansen x puppy!reader w/c — 1.9k (i thought this would be under 1k. i was wrong) this is a dark fic. 18+ only. warnings — puppy!reader, dark mean lloyd (but that's canon so lol), implied smut, butt plug tail, puppy ears, collar, lead, referenced kidnapping, referenced stokholm syndrome, pet play, referenced punishment, violence and murder (not towards lloyd or reader), kinda victim blaming if you squint but it's just lloyd being a dick on purpose cause he wants a reason to punish his pet. a/n — you know me too well lmao. okay this was seriously meant to be a drabble but now it's almost 2k whoops. i guess pet play just does that too me. i hope you enjoy and i did lloyd justice! not beta read, all mistakes and shit are mine.

Sometimes life kicks you while you’re down.

Or sometimes, you just get kidnapped by Lloyd Hansen for the world’s biggest fuck you.

The various televisions on the mansion wall do little to interest you. It’s just another operation, one of many that Lloyd runs from his secluded safehouse. It wasn’t home. Nothing was cosy about the intricate and obnoxious crown moulding or various paintings scattered about.

It was all a façade, much like Lloyd himself.

He put on the act that he was better than everyone else, that his skills and intelligence made him superior, but that was all bullshit.

At the end of the day, he was just as desperate for love and attention as much as the next person.

Lloyd had taken you the same day he’d sighted you working at your aunt’s café. You weren’t sure what he saw in you, but it was clear he had some interest by the way he fucked you in the car before you even got back to his safehouse.

He was ravenous. If he didn’t have his job, you had no doubt he’d spend every minute of the day fucking you over every surface.

Giving up your life was hard. Becoming Lloyd’s puppy was harder.

He didn’t want a partner; he wanted a pet. A doting little thing to follow him around. And while that wasn’t you at first, the punishments Lloyd would hand out made sure you became it quickly.

At this stage, Lloyd’s contractors had seen you humiliated, suspended naked or spanked raw. Lloyd loved to string you up and leave you to be a nice addition to the paintings in the room.

But what he loved most was you sitting at his feet. Being on your knees so much had hurt at first, but you’d grown used to it.

So, that’s where you sat. By Lloyd’s chair while he stood with a glass of scotch, intently watching the screens and yelling out orders to the various agents for hire in the room. You didn’t know who they were hunting, and you didn’t care. It was the least of your problems.

Your eyes fluttered tiredly, fatigue causing your lids to feel heavy. Lloyd had fucked your ass the night before, leaving you with a lack of sleep. No position was comfortable with the biting, stinging sensation left behind by him. In your kneeling position, you could still feel the slow seep of his cum from your tight hole.

It leaked around the tail butt plug Lloyd had put in this morning. The grey fur of the puppy tail matched your ears that were secured with a headband. Around your neck was a matching grey collar with little black crystal embellishments.

Lloyd never was one for colour. He dressed you in cute attire, but always with a muted colour palette. As if you were his gothic puppy.

You covered your mouth as you yawned, your tummy grumbling. You sighed, glancing around the room. There were snacks on the back table, but you couldn’t get to them. Lloyd had tied your lead to his chair, so you couldn’t get far.

Not that you could run anyway. Having to crawl everywhere had caused the muscles in your legs to become so weak you doubted you could stand for very long.

Plus, there was a part of you that liked this life.

It was a simple existence. Please Lloyd. Please daddy. That’s all you had to worry about.

You looked behind you and through the large window panes. It was cloudy outside, with dark clouds threatening to rain on the mansion grounds. You could smell the moisture in the air, a damp smell that brought you ease.

The world was full of darkness. People worked until they died, searching for some sense of accomplishment they’d never find. Unless you were privileged, money would be an endless struggle, and you’d likely never truly be happy.

But here, there was none of that. You were treated like a cherished pet, as Lloyd loved you in his own way. Anything you wanted, he would give you, in return for your undying loyalty.

It was admittedly nice.

Lloyd fucked you better than you could have ever deemed possible, bringing endless pleasure. He wasn’t a selfish lover. He had a sense of pride in making his puppy fall apart.

You smiled to yourself. Stockholm Syndrome or not, was it so bad if you felt happy?

Another garbled sound came from your stomach, and you sighed.

You should have eaten more for breakfast, but you were distracted by the soreness in your ass. But now you were regretting it.

A soft whine left you at the sight of the plated fruit behind you. Lloyd was fully engrossed in the screens, not even turning back to look at you. You crawled on all fours towards the platter, tail swishing behind you, only getting about halfway when your lead went taut.

It wasn’t long enough by a long shot. You looked back to Lloyd, who seemed royally pissed off about something going wrong. Yeah, not the appropriate time to ask for food. He’d probably spank your ass raw for stress relief, and you were in enough discomfort as it is.

One of Lloyd’s hired men, Brayden, walked past you to the table, and you turned to return to your spot by Lloyd’s seat. A tug on your lead caught your attention, and you looked back to see Brayden squatting at your level. You looked at him like he’d gone insane because he surely had. Lloyd would kill him for interacting with you. He didn’t take well to anyone else playing with his things. The last time someone talked to you, they lost an eye.

You looked from where Brayden held your lead, to the piece of pear in his hand, to his smiling face. Your mouth dropped open in shock. No, bad idea. Really, really bad idea.

He held out the piece of fruit, and you looked at it like it was a bomb. Because it was just as dangerous. You shook your head, unable to speak in case it caught Lloyd’s attention.

“C’mon, you’re hungry,” Brayden whispered before he moved forward, putting the piece of pear into your mouth as he held your lead so you had no escape.

He may have pitied you, but he was just as bad as Lloyd. He put you in a position you didn’t want to be in.

The sweet twang of the pear set your senses alight, and you closed your mouth to hide the food before scurrying back to Lloyd’s chair.

You did your best to chew quietly, but then Brayden signed his death warrant.

He patted your head as he passed you back to his seat, the ruffling sound of your headband causing enough sound to catch Lloyd’s attention.

“Did you just fucking touch her?” Lloyd’s voice suddenly boomed, and you squeaked and flinched from how it reverberated throughout the room. “Did you just touch my fucking pet?”

Brayden froze, trying to play it cool with a shrug. “She was trying to get some fruit, but she couldn’t reach, so I gave it to her.”

Lloyd was fuming before, but now he was irate. His pupils dilated as he took it all in, nostrils flaring. “You fucking touched my puppy. And fed her? What, you think I can’t take care of her? Think you can do a better job than me, huh?”

You wanted to hide away, so you did. You curled yourself around the back of his chair, watching as Lloyd stormed over to Brayden.

The whole room had become motionless, the clack of fingers against keyboards stopping as Lloyd towered over the smaller brunette.

“Look, she was hungry. I didn’t mean anything by it, just wanted to—”

Anything more Brayden wanted to say was cut off by the crack of Lloyd’s fist against his cheek. You gasped at the sight of Brayden’s broken nose, blood pouring to the floor. “How fucking dare you touch her!”

There was another punch. And another… And another. You were forced to watch the morbid show as Lloyd went feral, gripping the man by the collar and letting his fist go wild. Brayden never had a chance to even fight back.

The taste of the pear had turned sour, and you spat out the remnants onto the floor. You wanted nothing to do with this.

“She’s mine, do you hear me? Nobody but me touches her.” Lloyd’s point seemed to fall on deaf ears as Brayden’s head lolled to the side, only held up by Lloyd’s fingers in his shirt.

Brayden’s body hit the floor with a crunch when Lloyd let him go, a soft groan coming from the male. You felt a little bad for him. But he played with fire and got burnt.

If you play stupid games, you win stupid prizes.

And Brayden’s stupid prize for touching you was a bullet to the head.

You covered your ears when you saw Lloyd pull out his handgun and closed your eyes when the first shot rang out. It wasn’t until four shots later that Lloyd had stopped, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look at the gore.

There was a beat of silence before you felt hands clasp over yours, gently pulling your palms away from your ears. “Sorry puppy, didn’t mean to scare you,” Lloyd’s voice called to you, much softer now. “Did he hurt you?”

Your eyes opened and met the deep blues of your captor. There was a lot of anger blazing in his orbs, but also concern. You shook your head, your voice failing you.

“Good. I would have killed him a second time if he did,” Lloyd gave a grin, and you forced a small smile, trying to appease him. Lloyd seemed relieved you weren’t harmed, but now he knew you were okay, his voice turned a baritone deeper. He loved looking for a way to punish you. “But he did touch you.”

This time you nodded. “On… On my head…” You mumbled, feeling small and feeble in front of Lloyd. Blood splattered his polo shirt and slacks, the metallic smell filling your nose.

“And you let him.” Lloyd’s eyes darkened a fraction. It wasn’t just Brayden he was mad with.

“I’m— I’m sorry…” You blurted out, clinging to the chair.

“You should have asked me if you were hungry. Now you’re dirty. Like a used slut.”

“You were busy and mad, and I didn’t want to interrupt your work and—” Lloyd cut off your rambling with a finger to your lips before he picked you up, so you were straddling his waist.

“Silly puppy. Couldn’t wait for food, so you whored yourself to get it from my workers, huh?” Lloyd sniped, and your blood ran cold. He carried you past Brayden’s dead, desecrated body and towards the master ensuite as you began to shake in his grip.

“We’ll get you washed of him, and then I think my pet needs a little attitude adjustment. You’ll think twice about letting someone else near you after I’ve tried out my new paddle, won’t you, sunshine?”

Lloyd had showed you the paddle when it arrived in the mail. Black leather with a cut out at the end in the shape of a puppy paw so it would leave an imprint on your body. Tears quickly bubbled in your vision, the fear taking over. Lloyd always rewarded you with pleasure after the pain, but you still had to get through the demoralising punishment first. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“I don’t want excuses, puppy.” Lloyd placed you on the bathroom counter, fingers wrapping around your throat and bringing your face close to his. “You think that little ass is sore now? You just wait until I’m done with you. Maybe I’ll fuck that puppy cunt, so your holes match, both red raw and stretched from my cock.”

To be updated on when I post please follow @sgt-seabass-library and turn on post notifications.

#ambswrites #ambs answers #jen 💙 #dark fic #lloyd hansen x you #lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x reader #lloyd hansen x y/n #chris evans #chris evans character #chris evans imagine #chris evans fanfiction

[sgt-seabass]

the idea of steve kemp being mean and dark and manhandling you to your knees and slapping you around and making you worship him and lick his shoes is so hot 🥺 especially if he's threatening and degrading the reader through it

𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒔𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏

✧˚ · .  𝘚𝘵𝘦𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘶𝘯𝘧𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳 𝘢 𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘰𝘯.

pairing — steve kemp x little!reader w/c — almost 900 words this is a dark fic. 18+ only. warnings — little!reader, dd/lg elements, implied kidnapping, referenced cannibalism, referenced murder, threats, degradation, pet names (sunflower), face slapping, spanking, shoe licking, shoe grinding a/n — this ask made me go fucking FERAL i swear to god. i could kiss your brain, thank you for blessing me with this thot. i was going to write other things but couldn't get this idea out of my head. i love you. not beta read.

Steve didn’t know you were different at first.

He had wined and dined you the same as his other victims, and with a bit of smooth talking, you’d been an easy catch.

You were sweet. Wearing pretty little dresses with a gorgeous smile that beams to all those around. Like a sunflower, which was the nickname he’d chosen for you.

It wasn’t until the reality of the situation had set in that he started to see the hints of uniqueness. Typically, his captives would scream, fight, and try to claw his eyes out. But you had receded into yourself. A meek thing that cried in the corner. Like a kicked puppy.

Steve wasn’t one for affection, not in the traditional sense. But he liked you. And so, he kept you around.

Many girls came and went while you were kept in your little cell. Steve often talked with you, sitting on the ground while he ranted about his day. And if you listened well, you’d get a new stuffed toy. He’d learnt you liked them after you bundled your pillows to cuddle them like a bear.

It was amusing. His little sunflower was an exciting thing to have around.

Except when you weren’t good. That he hated more than anything.

You wouldn’t eat your dinner, picking at the meatloaf with disdain. Steve had made it especially for you, with beef, not his usual cuisine. You weren’t ready for his diet yet.

He’d grabbed you by the hair, dragging you across the room and into a new, empty cell. You’d wailed for your stuffies, for comfort, but bad girls don’t get privileges.

“What am I meant to do with an ungrateful little girl, huh? Do you want to end up like the rest of them?” Steve watched the fear flash across your face, your little sobs becoming so hard snot and spit dribbled down your face with your tears.

“What a pathetic little baby. Too stupid to even kill,” Steve cooed, swatting your hands away when you tried to cover your face. He wanted to see all the anguish. “Who am I, hm? Who am I, sunflower?”

“My— My— My G-God…” You snivelled out, and Steve scoffed, slapping you hard across the face.

You turned to him again, and he slapped you again. “Speak properly. This isn’t the time to be a bumbling mess. Face your consequences,” Steve was harsh, as he often was when things didn’t go his way.

“You’re my God,” you managed to get out amongst your sniffs and hiccupped sobs.

“That’s better. Now, you want to get back in my good books, right?”

You nodded desperately, and Steve smiled. His sunflower was always so eager to please.

Steve grabbed your hips, pulling you to sit on his manicured oxford shoes. He started you off, rubbing your cunt over the laces and leather below you until you got the idea. “That’s it. Rub that dirty pussy all over my shoes. I bet you like it, don’t you?”

The way you looked up at Steve had him almost cumming on the spot. You looked like an absolute mess, your tear-stricken cheeks and puffy eyes making him harder. “Fuck.” He muttered, looking down to the sheen left on his shoe from your sopping cunt, your wetness soaking through your underwear. “You’re my disgusting little baby, aren’t you, sunflower?”

“Y-Yes, daddy.”

Steve always loved hearing his two favourite words. He didn’t really have a kink for being called daddy, but how it made you all shy and submissive was well worth it.

You kept rubbing yourself with little moans and sobs until your hips started shuddering, and Steve knew you were getting close. He drank in the sight of you, your nipples peaked through the fabric of your dress and muscles tensing throughout your body. It was a picture-perfect sight. “You’re doing a good job, sunflower. But you were a bad girl. And bad girls don’t get to cum.”

Steve pulled you off him, your sounds turning to whimpers as you were denied your orgasm. His shoe shone with your juices, and Steve stuck it in your face, rubbing it with the leather. “Look at this. You’ve made it all dirty. I’d normally kill someone for dirtying my things like this.”

There wasn’t much Steve wouldn’t kill someone for, but he loved to taunt you nonetheless. “But I suppose I can forgive you if you clean it up.”

Steve laughed as you looked around the room, trying to find a rag or something to clean it with. “Stupid baby.” He grabbed your hair, ignoring your yelps and cries as he shoved your face against his shoe. “With your tongue.”

He held you there, not allowing an ounce of movement. With your ass in the air, he smacked your cheeks, watching as you tried to lick away your wetness as the spanks kept coming. He wanted you sore. Perhaps that would teach you a lesson.

You licked at his shoes, having to go over the same spot when your tears fell and made a mess all over again. It was an endless cycle that Steve was all too happy to witness.

Steve hummed, watching you contently. Maybe he’d get you another toy from the hospital gift shop after his shift tomorrow. He loved seeing his sunflower smile after being a crying mess, like a blooming flower after the rain.

To be updated on when I post please follow @sgt-seabass-library and turn on post notifications.

#ambswrites #ambs answers #cherished anons #steve kemp #steve kemp x reader #steve kemp x you #dark fic #sebastian stan #sebastian stan character #sebastian stan fanfiction #steve kemp x y/n #steve kemp imagine

[sgt-seabass]

𝒊 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏 𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖

✧˚ · . 𝘋𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘦𝘴. 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘕𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘍𝘰𝘸𝘭𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘴 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘨𝘢 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘶𝘣𝘮𝘪𝘵.

main pairing — mob boss!alpha!nick fowler x omega!reader other featured characters — james mace, chris beck, steve kemp, charles blackwood, ransom drysdale, chase collins, lee bodecker, robert pronge, ari levinson, hal carter, lloyd hansen w/c — 14.8k this is a dark explicit fic. 18+ only. part of the Clockwork AU.

warnings — non-con (blowjobs, handjobs, unprotected sex), dub-con (unprotected sex, female orgasm), a/b/o dynamics, Nick Fowler being a cunt, misogyny/treating omegas as lesser, references to death, suicidal ideations, references to anxiety and depression, caging, manhandling/mild violence against reader, chase, mild injury to reader, pet names (pup, puppy, sweets, sunshine, little omega, ducky), degradation, use of stress positions, minor medical references (needles administered), gangbang, bukkake, neglect of reader (touch starving), mention of wanting to throw up (no actual vomit), mental torture and stress to the point of breakdown a/n — big big thank you to @sweeterthanthis and @dreamlessinparis for beta-ing this beast and dealing with my inability to stay in one tense lol. all mistakes and bullshit are mine. also big thank you to @navybrat817 for helping with the brainstorming. without you, this fic wouldn't have come to life

Depressed again Morning comes too fast and I'm tired of the routine Depressed again Let me sit alone in the tone that you crave Angry again No, I don't wanna have a conversation with you Angry again Let me sit alone with the kerosene I don't even care about you ↳ I don't even care about you by Missio

"Hey, doll.”

Your eyes fluttered open, the sunshine warm on your face as you gazed up at the man above you, a soft smile on his features as his hair hung down and eclipsed his face.

Was this heaven?

"James?" You questioned, disbelief flowing through you at the sight of him. He looked far different to the last time you saw him. No injuries marred him. He looked just as you had always known him. 

"Who else would it be, silly? You fell asleep while I was getting the rest of the stuff from the car," James chuckled as you sat up, your fingers running across the picnic mat below you. The feeling of the fabric was familiar, and it caused a smile to dance across your lips. You'd always loved the picnics you'd had with your alpha. It was playful and fun, the two of you snacking before cuddling beneath the sun's warmth.

And in the best moments, you'd get frisky under a padded blanket. It was in those moments you'd found true happiness. You'd found love. But the problem in finding love was that it was so easy to lose in a matter of moments. The truest sorrow of death was that love was proven more than anything.

James sat the picnic basket beside you before quickly tugging you into his lap.

You blinked, taking in the view of the park surrounding you. Only the two of you and the flowers blooming across the landscape, nothing more than a subtle breeze in the air.

Your eyes scanned over the flowers, looking at the different coloured petals. It was as if ink had infused them with their hues, providing life to something that would be otherwise dull. 

Oh, it felt good.

Warmth surrounded you, Jame's bulky frame providing you comfort as he nuzzled into your neck to scent you, his hand resting against your stomach.

He let out a low hum, the sound reverberating across your skin like your favourite song.

You let out a sigh as you relaxed against him, eyes fluttering closed as you just let yourself be in the moment.

"You're not gonna fall asleep again, are you?" James chided, poking at your side with his right arm, eliciting giggles from you.

You opened your eyes to face him. His deep azures gazed at you as you ran your hands through his hair, bringing your palms forward to cup his cheeks.

"I'm dreaming, aren't I?"

It's too good to be true. This happiness, it was too perfect. Life had never allowed you much reprieve.

"Does it matter?" James pulled your leg around, so you were sitting in his lap, your face close before you allowed yourself to let go.

Your lips brushed over each other's, testing the waters before your hands brought his face to yours.

The kiss started slow, two souls connecting between planes. But the crushing weight of reality quickly turned you more passionate.

It felt so real. You didn't want this to end.

Time seemed to flow indiscriminately as you kissed James, your tears beginning to trickle down your cheeks after a few minutes with your alpha.

He pulled away with a coo. "Hey, hey, doll. You're alright,”

"He’s going to take me away from you. I don’t…I don’t want to wake up Jamie. I want to stay here with you,” You sniffled, and James brought up the arm of his sweatshirt to dry your tears.

“That’s not the way life works, sweetheart. You have to go back,”

You couldn’t. Not after the auction, not after seeing the beast that was your mate.

You huffed, resting your hands on his waist with a shake of your head. “That’s not fair,”

“I know. I know, love. But life isn’t meant to be fair. It’s a struggle against the odds, but that doesn’t mean you can’t change the course of your life,” James reassured, but it felt like a lie.

“I don’t see a way out of this, James. I’m mated to Nick. He can control me without even trying.”

James tilted his head, continuing to wipe away your tears. “Can he, though?”

“What?” Your brows furrowed, fingers clinging to James like he was your lifeline.

“You’re the strongest gal I’ve ever met,” He tapped your temple with a sad smile. “You just have to fight him.”

“I... but how?”

“Think of us, what we had, what we were destined to have. Even without me in the picture, you’ve lost everything. And that is exactly why you can fight back. He can’t control someone who has nothing to live for,” James’ words felt like a tonne of bricks in your stomach, a heavy pit forming. Because despite him being right, you did have nothing to live for. You’d lost everything, and you’d hit rock bottom. The concept of standing up against a prime alpha was almost too scary to comprehend.

It would be easier to just cease the fight. End the pain.

“Why don’t I just kill myself then?” You asked with beady eyes, and James let out a sad hum, contemplating his next words.

“Because then Nick Fowler wins. He would have destroyed both of us. You’ve got so much courage, doll. And the most courageous thing you can do is live,” James said softly, his words delivered gently despite their weight. “Plus, you have to find Steve. We’re all he had,”

Your gaze dropped to your hands, fiddling with the hem of James’ sweatshirt as you frowned. “And what if I lose? What if he breaks me?”

“Then you live happily the best you can. If you’re broken, you won’t know any better anymore,” James gently took your chin, tilting your head up so your eyes would meet his. 

His lips found yours again, the kiss melancholic as you knew this had to end. Nothing good ever lasted long for you.

Would this be the last time you’d see him?

Roses with thorned stalks rose from the ground, the petals a beautiful crimson, the flowers just like Nick’s tattoos. You could hear the ticking of a clock, the sound signalling that time was running out. With each tick, you held tighter onto James, the stems getting closer and closer with each passing second.

You pulled back with a hiccuped sob despite how much you just wanted to keep his lips on yours. When had you started crying again?

“James… I’m not ready to go back, please.”

James didn’t have anything to say this time. All he could offer was a woeful smile as the vines began to wind around your limbs, cutting into you and slicing around your flesh.

There wasn’t anything he could do to make this better.

After all, he wasn’t even real. The James you loved was dead.

Death was brutal and cruel, unforgiving in how it wrenches people from your existence. But he was safe, at least. James didn’t have to face any more horrors while you were consumed by the primitive evil that was Nick Fowler. 

The thorns cut into your skin, tearing across your torso and limbs as they wrapped around you like a snake ready to kill.

You began to be pulled away from James, and despite your hold on him, the roses were stronger. 

“I love you,” you wept as your body began to be dragged into the dirt below, the ground moving around you like quicksand.

“I love you too. We’ll see each other again one day, doll. It’ll be okay.”

You wanted to believe James, but as the earth began to swallow you up, you knew it was unlikely.

The chance of beating Nick Fowler is minuscule, but you’d still try. You’d try for James. For what you should have had, the life you lost.

Dirt began to fill your lungs as your head was pulled under, your blood mixing in with the brown soil, making a muddy mess.

The last thing you remember was hearing a wolf howl and the clock’s ticking stopped.

Consciousness came to you with fright, heart hammering in your chest and tears in your eyes. You whacked your head against the cage wall in your abrupt wake, pain radiating through your forehead from the impact. The thick, black steel bars clanged like they were laughing at your pain. 

A whimpered ouch left you as you lay back down. Your dress from the auction still filled most of the cage, the tulle scratching against your skin uncomfortably. The emerald made you look luxurious, but you doubted being shoved in a cage was doing you many favours in looking the part Nick wanted you to play. Or maybe that’s precisely the image he wanted. A shattered omega.

The diamond choker Nick had gifted you laid next to you. It must have broken off during the night when you tossed and turned, as it was already damaged when you went to sleep. 

You threw it out of the cage with a huff, watching it skid off the rug and across the hardwood. 

A bird in a gilded cage was still denied its freedom, no matter how embellished its captor made it.

The choker was a show of ownership, and the last thing you wanted was to be reminded of your mate. The rejection of your alpha had your bond throbbing, the scarred flesh on your neck hurting with each ebb of anger that flowed through you. You hoped Nick could feel it and that it was irritating for him.

You would rather Nick treated you like his auctioned omegas so there was no veil. At the end of the day, you were just another object for him.

Light bled through the curtains like a fresh wound, gnarly and grotesque, much like the maim to your soul. It illuminated the room, the light making you aware of the stark greys of the bedroom. Perhaps it was supposed to be chic, the way the walls and furniture matched a muted colour palette. But all it did was reflect the desolateness of the situation; the world reduced to nothing more than shades.

The plushness of the pink and blue blankets below you provided little comfort, but you ignored the soreness in your muscles as you stared at the ceiling, the dark grey paint obscured by the bars of your cage.

Time passed, the sun beginning to rise higher in the sky. It had to be at least mid-morning, and your stomach rumbled. You hadn’t eaten since before the auction yesterday, although the thought of eating anything made you feel sick. Everything about your situation made you nauseous.

You hoped that James would burst through the door with Steve by his side and that they would take you out of this hell hole and back to your everyday life. But when the door opened, you were met with the sight of Beck and Mace. You barely spared them a glance before returning to eyeing the ceiling like it was the most exciting thing in the world.

“Stop sulking. You brought this upon yourself,” Mace sighed, moving to unlock your cage. When you didn’t move to get out or acknowledge their presence, Mace clutched your ankle and began to drag you out.

“Get off me,” you snarled, trying to cling to the bars as the dress tulle scratched your skin, but Beck was one step ahead. He pried your fingers off the bars while Mace pulled, and you had no chance as you were dragged from the enclosure. While the cage kept you inside, it also kept others out, and now you had to face your nightmares.

“Don’t you want a shower and a piss? Why are you making this such a fucking chore?” Mace growled as you began flailing. You could feel Nick through your bond, his emotions egging you to calm down. But you didn’t want to calm down. You wanted to go home. To your real home, not this prison.

Beck picked up the discarded choker, lips pursed as he looked at it, examining if it could be fixed while Mace wrangled you to your feet despite your protests. “Fuck off, get the fuck off me!”

Mace’s lips ghosted by the shell of your ear as he pulled your hands behind you, leading you towards the bathroom, his voice scarily low. “Twenty minutes. Clean yourself up and get it together. If you come out a nice fucking omega, I won’t tell Nick about this. Although I’m sure he can already feel it all.”

With little grace, Mace pushed you into the bathroom, your feet stumbling over the tile until you steadied yourself on the marble sink counter. The door closed behind you, the locks clicking. You didn’t want to give them the satisfaction of doing as they said, but you really needed to relieve yourself and freshen up. Especially if you were going to have any chance of fighting them.

As you suspected, each drawer in the bathroom was locked with a fingerprint pad, the light flashing red and beeping at you when you tried to open it. Nick really had thought of everything. On the shower shelf sat everything you needed anyway. Begrudgingly, you moved through the motions. You didn’t allow your thoughts to wander. There was too much pain threatening to bleed in past the edges of your mind.

As you struggled to take the dress off and get the shower running, all you thought about was James. The way he’d hold you and love you. To Nick, it might appear you’re calming down with how your emotions turn to yearning as the water washed over you. But the desire wasn’t for your mated alpha. It’s for the alpha you lost. 

It wasn't until you got out of the shower that your determination became set. Nick Fowler would not win. Think of James, you told yourself. Just like he said in your dream. Perhaps it wasn’t a dream but a premonition. A communication with the dead.

As you began to work yourself up, your fists clenched by your sides, the adrenaline started to spike. They hadn’t left you any clothes, but that didn’t matter. You’d be faster without anything slowing you down anyway. You tore some of the fabric from the dress to pull your hair back so it wouldn’t get in the way.

“Times up,” Beck called, and you knew this was it. This was your chance. You got ready to bolt when he cracked the door open. And once he’d opened it enough for you to fit through, you pounced. The rush hit you all at once, and you quickly sprinted past Beck’s form and under the arm on the door.

“What the—” The alpha said, stunned as you dashed past him. Mace, distracted as he searched the closet for clothes, whipped his head around just in time to see you rush out the bedroom door.

“Omega! Stop!” Mace tried to command you. But he’s not your alpha; now that you’ve got a mate, his orders don’t work on you.

Without looking back, you ran into the hall, following the trail that Beck took you on when he walked you down the night before. There are rushed steps behind you, but it doesn’t deter you as your feet slapped against the floor in your sprint. You can feel Nick homing into your bond, his ire clear. And you know he’s close. He’s in the house. Stop. Enough. The bond tells you, but a flash of James’ face in your mind’s eye helps to eclipse the order.

You managed to reach the front door, throwing it open with a slam before running onto the gravelled front path. The rocks of the driveway tore into your feet, the cold air hitting your naked form like a tidal wave. There was a slight patter of rain beginning, the type you’d love to be curled in bed under the plush covers to listen to, but instead, you were running for your life.

“Omega. Stop right now,” Nick’s booming voice hit your ears, and your legs faltered for a second. No. No.

“’Til the end of the line, sweetheart,” James. This is the man who took James from you. He’s no alpha of yours.

You managed to get your legs moving, picking up into a sprint as your heart hammered like a panicked mouse in your chest.

“Stop running right now,” Nick yelled again, but you didn’t even register the command, James’ voice cooing to you in your head.

You could feel the trickle of blood as the bond opened into a fresh wound the more you rejected the commands of your alpha. You were denying your very physiology, and it wasn't without consequences. Everything hurt, and the throbbing in your neck felt like needles were being sharply stabbed where Nick’s teeth had dug in when he claimed you.

The way Nick felt didn't help. There was anger, disappointment, and hurt. Not that he’d admit to the last one. His omega was rejecting him. A prime alpha rejected by their omega was a pitiful sight and one that Nick would never want anyone else to see. For a man so powerful, in this moment, he was entirely weak to you.

That was until you heard the shot ring off and felt a sharp sting in your left ass cheek. You stumbled to the ground, palms and knees grazing over the gravelled surface as the rain hit your back. A yowl left you as you turned to look behind you, a tranquiliser dart sticking out of your skin, a little blue feathered frill on the end.

“You fucking tranqued me?” You screamed, looking back at Nick, who was slowly approaching with the rifle in his hand.

“You’re lucky I didn’t use my loaded gun, omega. I don’t even care about you. I should kill you,” The frustration was apparent, an edge of confusion in his tone, unsure as to why his commands weren’t working. If anything, they should be stronger now that you’re bonded. But why did he care anyway? What made you so special?

“Yeah, but you won’t, because you do fucking care, asshole. Otherwise I would have died with my lover,” You spat, fire in your eyes as he edged closer. Your entire lower half was becoming unusable, but you still tried to drag yourself over the ground despite how it cut into you.

”I can see why that useless waste of space you called an alpha never mated you. Did you act like a fucking brat with him too?” The words shouldn’t hurt. You shouldn’t care what Nick says. But they were like knives piercing your skin regardless, worse than the gravel below.

“He deserved my respect. You deserve nothing. You are nothing.”

The outrage was clear as day on Nick’s face as he crouched before you, and your arms began to get tingly as the weakness spread. You knew he was going to snap back hard, and he did. 

”Maybe your alpha would be alive if you behaved yourself and paid more attention to him.”

Your mouth dropped open in shock, a pained cry leaving you as the tears began. Yeah, that hurt. It planted a seed of doubt in your mind. Was it your fault? No. You weren’t going to take the blame for a male alpha with an inflated ego. For too long, omegas took the blame simply because their voice wasn’t as loud. But not now. You wouldn’t take it.

”Aww, pup. You lost all your bite, hm? I’m disappointed. I thought you’d fight better than this.”

If the jabs about James didn’t hurt enough, the thought of disappointing your alpha added to the anguish. And it made you mad. Really, really mad.

“Why bite when I can scratch, alpha?” You snapped before using your waning strength to slash at Nick. He laughed, easily dodging you, only one swipe brushing his cheek. Your nails left a red mark, and it spurred you on more.

”You can hit harder than that, little pup. C’mon, you’re letting me down. You wanna act like a wolf? Then hurt me, but you’ll have to put in some effort, cub. You’re just making this too easy.”

Nick’s words hit hard. You let out a roar and lunged. It took all your strength to propel your body, throwing yourself against the alpha. He seemed surprised for a millisecond, and it was all you needed to swipe your nails across Nick’s face. He hissed as your talons dug through flesh, leaving trickles of blood tracking down his face. Lucky for him, his eyelids were closed when you attacked, so his eyes remained undamaged while his cheek and lip bore some nasty cuts.

It’s all you hadleft in you before the sedative rendered you useless. But it was worth it to see Nick’s face as he processed it all. For once, he wasn't in control. How the mighty have fallen.

Nick took your head into his hands, cupping his palms on either side. You were forced to look into his eyes when his bond was at its strongest. Desperation was in his wild eyes, the facade of a prime alpha with it all cracking. “Bark for me, puppy.”

Your mind screamed at you to bark. To give in.

It would be easy to play the part the world wanted you to. But to do that would be denying your own human experience. You opened your mouth, turning to the side and biting down hard on Nick’s hand.

He slapped you, one hand holding your head steady, so the impact hurt even more. It makes your brain rattle, the world shaking for a moment. Your eyes fluttered, and suddenly you weren't on the mansion path anymore. Nick had picked you up and thrown you over his shoulder. Your limbs laid dormant, unable to move due to the dart still poking out of your ass. Given the omegas he had housed in his back barn, it should have been expected he’d have non-lethal ways to capture them.

You expected Nick to take you to the bedroom and cage you, but your brows furrowed as you were brought to the living room. He was silent now, and that was almost scarier than his anger. He was plotting something that surely wouldn’t be good for you.

Beck and Mace watched from the doorway as Nick dropped you like a sack of potatoes onto the ground against the far wall. He looked  down at you, jaw clenched and let out a huff. He gave your stomach a kick, earning a winded groan from you as you couldn't even curl in on yourself, your muscles relaxed against your will.

“She’s rejecting my commands,” Nick said matter-of-factly, his gaze turning to his men. “I intend to fix that.”

“How?” Mace asked, crossing his arms as he leaned against the doorframe, eyes flicking from you to his boss.

“I’m going to talk to Kemp. He’ll know. And if he doesn’t, Hal will have an idea.”

“Hal is a softie,” Mace interjected with a dry chuckle.

“Yeah, but have you seen how Ari’s omegas listen to him? They dote on him,” Beck commented, running a hand through his short hair, his forehead creased from stress.

“I don’t want the soft route. Get her bound. I have some calls to make.”

Nick didn't look back at you as he exited the room, but you could feel the pain in your bond. The desolation. The anger. The myriad of emotions swirling in the both of you.

Asshole.

Mace and Beck did as commanded, moving around you to take the pictures down from the wall, replacing them with metal loops. Mace left for a few minutes while Beck finished up, and he took a moment to inspect your stomach, pressing around your ribs to ensure there’s nothing out of place. By now, the dogs had joined as well. Apollo, Icarus and Hermes sat a few feet away, just watching what was happening.

“She’s fine,” Beck murmured to the dogs, three sets of ears perking up at his words. “Yeah yeah, I know. But she brought this upon herself.”

Mace returned with rope, working with Beck to bind your arms and connect the cord through the newly installed loops. Your arms were brought above your head, suspending you uncomfortably so that your toes barely touched the floor. It put a lot of pressure on your shoulders, especially with your body's dead weight beneath you.

As their last step, Beck pulled the tranquiliser dart from you, and you tried to bite him when he was close enough. He gave you a look of disappointment before leaving with Mace, the dogs following once Mace whistled for them.

You were left in the living room, nothing more than the ticking of the old grandfather clock on the opposite side of the room to keep you company. It was almost maddening listening to the tick-tocks, your head filled with the repetitive sound. The blinds were drawn, the room dark, the only light source from the hallway outside. Shadows cast over the dark mahogany furniture, creating more demons for you to contest with. You never were a fan of the dark, and certainly not now.

Over time, you regained control of your body. Your muscles started to move, and you were able to shuffle to try and find a more comfortable position. Although no stance was relaxing as you struggled to stay steady on the balls of your feet.

Hours passed, and you started to hone in on the ticking rhythm of the clock, imagining it as a tempo for you and James to dance to. He always loved dancing. You’d been excited to take him to the local dance that was run every spring, but you never did get that chance. And you’d make sure Nick paid for that lost chance by being the unruliest omega possible.

With the curtains closed, it was impossible to tell the time, and the clock was too far away to make out, so you just waited for Nick’s eventual return.

You didn't know how long it had been, but the slamming of doors indicated that Nick had emerged from his office, clearly not happy with whatever ‘advice’ he had been given by his friends. After a few minutes, he walked into the living room, sharp daggers shooting from his gaze at you. If looks could've killed, you would have been long dead. 

In his hand was a bowl of porridge, steam wafting off the top. You still hadn’t eaten, and your stomach growled at the sight and smell of the food. Even though you hated the muggy texture, your body craved just about anything.

“Are you going to be good?” Nick said coolly, his mask of calmness back. “You’ll have to be punished, but it will be easier on you if you give in now.”

He approached slowly, watching the way your eyes flitted between the food and him. It was clear Nick thought you would give in as he approached, a smug look on his face.

When he was within range, you used all your strength to throw your legs out and kick the bowl from his grasp, the porcelain shattering to the ground with a smash. Beck came rushing in from the sound, stopping when Nick raised his hand to dismiss him. “Leave it.”

You felt a sense of triumph when Nick’s jaw clicked in annoyance. You weren’t going down that easy. Not with James in the forefront of your thoughts.

Nick’s fists clenched and unclenched like he was deciding whether to hit you or not before he seemingly remembered something. He didn’t touch you. Instead, wordlessly, he pivoted on his heel and left, leaving you and the discarded food without further consideration.

That was the last time you saw anyone for two days.

Or at least what you thought was two days. It was hard to approximate with the only indication of the time the chimes on the clock. Fatigued, with no more than an hour’s sleep due to the stress position and lack of food, you were second guessing how many chimes you’d counted.

Your heart leapt in your chest when Nick eventually re-emerged, his clothes different. You’d never seen him out of a suit, his muscly form adorning a plain blue t-shirt and black jeans. The clothes clung to him like you wished to. Your alpha. Your hindbrain was ecstatic at the sight of him. Pushing against your designation, you shoved all the feelings down deep. No, you could not desire the man who ruined your life. 

Nick’s signature smirk was back, his eyes twinkling as he looked at you. He wanted you, too. That much was clear. Why he cared for you so much, you’d never understand. With the ticks in the background sounding, you looked at the clock tattoo that stood out starkly against his skin, like the rest of his ink.

Your eyes narrowed as you focused on the time. Two am. Was that on purpose? Did that time hold some significance? Or was it simply chosen at random? Your sight dragged to the bowl of fruit in his hands. Melon, strawberries, and apples,all cut into bite-size pieces. The hunger you felt hurt, as if your stomach was ready to eat itself.

“I can hear your stomach, puppy. Hungry little thing, aren’t you?” Nick mocked, but he was right. You were ravenous. The sweet tang in the air from the fruit mixed in with Nick’s strong scent had your head swirling. 

It’d been days since you’d been touched. Usually, that would be enough for any omega to start getting touch starved, let alone a mated omega being denied by her alpha. A prime alpha. Your body yearned for Nick, and it had your anger rising. No, it wasn't fair. You shouldn’t want the man who killed your partner.

Like the first time Nick visited, you kicked the bowl from his hand, flinching at the shattering sound. As you did it, there was a flash of ire in Nick’s expression, but there was something else there too. Like he expected it from you.

“Have it your way,” Nick said simply, placing his hands in his pockets as he kicked the discarded fruit away from your feet. He was so close, you could feel his body heat, and it had you wanting to lean in. “Uh-uh. Bad dogs don’t get pats.”

Nick pulled away, pupils dilated as he took in your scent. It was a punishment for him as well. Although he could get touch elsewhere, all you got was the wall against your back and the floor beneath your toes.

This time when Nick left, tears started steadily streaming down your cheeks as anxiety clutched at your heart.

It started to get much worse.

The longer you were left untouched, the worse your mental state became. The anxiousness was quickly met with a deep depression that settled into your bones and brought upon an acute sadness that infected you like a disease. 

There were often tears, howls, and whimpers. Yet you still didn’t yield when Nick visited you. You were being pulled in two directions, a tear beginning to form down your middle. Your loyalty was to James, but your body called for your alpha. 

Every time someone would walk past the doorway, or you’d hear the pitter-patter of dog paws, your heart would nearly burst. A visitor? But you were almost always met with disappointment. 

Nick didn’t allow the dogs in the living room, and the only time you saw anyone else was when Beck came to inject you with medicine or help you use a bedpan. He didn’t look you in the eyes, touch you, or speak to you. It was like a ghost was administering the vitamins and minerals you needed to stay alive while you refused food.

The days passed in a blur. As soon as the sun would bleed in around the curtains, it would disappear as nightfall came. At first, you liked the quiet of the night, only you and the owls hooting outside awake. But it quickly became your personal nightmare. Alone, with nothing but your thoughts, unable to sleep for more than a few minutes due to the pressure on your arms and balls of your feet.

It was torture. A brutal tactic that was breaking you down with each tick of that fucking clock. You growled into the air. Oh, how you wanted to break that clock. Tear it to shreds and leave nothing but cogs behind. Because every time you tried to escape reality, the ticking would wrench you back. 

The same as the days before it, the sun began to fade, and darkness began to consume the room. You closed your eyes, hoping to get some sleep. Although it was unlikely with the throbbing pain in your shoulders. When you heard footsteps, you assumed they would merely pass by as they usually did, but your eyes fluttered open when the feet stopped in the doorway. Your eyes met Mace’s hardened gaze. It was the first time you’d seen him since you were put on the wall, and you instinctively wanted to hug him. Alpha’s best friend. Alpha’s best friend is your best friend. He watched the way your brows furrowed, and tears welled in your eyes before breaking away to begin lighting the candles that sat on the mantle. 

“Mace.. help me..”

Your voice was left ignored. The candles added a soft illumination to the room. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from the flickering heat, a golden amber emanating from the flames. If you touched it, you would feel something. It would hurt. But you would have chosen it. A pain you choose to bear is freedom in itself.

“Mace, alpha, please. Let me go.”

Mace didnt spare you another glance as he moved around the room, dusting and cleaning up. He even vacuumed, and it was all very odd. Nick had a maid staff for this, although you supposed they would be uncomfortable seeing a bound omega crying against the wall.

Once he was done, he flicked on the wall sconces, and your eyes shut immediately. The room is filled with light for the first time in.. well, you weren't sure. But it had been a long while. There was a buzzing behind your eyes, spots flittering across your eyelids before you braved the light. 

Your eyes opened slowly, the brightness almost painful for your poor weakened body. You were growing accustomed to the darkness, feeling as if your body was becoming one with the plaster pressed against your back. There was no hiding in the light, and Mace took a deep breath at the sight of you. 

You were a mess. Naked, bruised, with cuts all over from your attempted escape. It was a sight to behold. Mace left without a word, but you were jostled. 

Why did he clean up? Why turn the lights on? It became more apparent when there was a new voice in the home. One you recognised from the night of the auction. 

Steve walked in with Nick by his side, his lips quirking at the sight of you. Your gaze turned to Nick, vexed still in how you looked at him. But your back arched too, begging to get closer to the scent wafting from him. When you closed your eyes, you were sitting by a flower bed of geraniums with a cup of earl grey tea, and Nick was there nuzzling into your neck.

“F-Fuck.. you..” You whined. It felt as if you would die if he didn’t touch you soon. Like you’d crumble into a pile of ash for Mace to sweep up.

“It’s good you booked this for tonight. I don’t think she’d last much longer otherwise,” You hated how Steve spoke as if you were not there, and a growl left you when you opened your eyes to see his hand on Nick’s shoulder. No, you needed that touch. It’s not fair. At the same time, you wanted to rip Nick’s throat out and force-feed him it. 

“This better work,” Nick’s voice was strained, the pain clear. He’d been starved of his omega for too long. But he couldn’t just let you off like nothing happened.

“It will. Trust me.”

“I trust you with my life, Steve. But I don’t know if I trust you with hers.”

Steve merely chuckled, and the men left the same way they came. You wriggled in your binds to no avail. Your body was so exhausted you could barely move. Before long, more footsteps and voices were chatting in the entryway. You recognised Lee, Charles, Ransom, Chase and Robert, all from the auction. But there were new ones too. Three voices you didn’t know that mingled in with the rest. What were they all doing here?

Beck walked in with finger food, little meatballs that looked fancy and well-presented. Mace followed, carrying a plate with different hors d’oeuvres. Some caviar looking thing. You didn’t know what it was, but your stomach grumbled nonetheless. The alphas stayed and watched as the waitstaff brought in drinks and even more food, a complete set-up on the living room table. Last brought in was a plate of natural oysters; the fishy smell had your head reeling. The food had too many scents for your brain to handle. You needed your alpha. You needed to nuzzle into him– No. You needed to kill him. You whimpered as your brain tried to figure out what it wanted.

“Now that’s a nice noise,” Ransom mocked as he entered, a glass of whisky in hand. “You want some company that bad, huh?”

“S’needy little ‘mega. Real cute too,” Lee joined him, hand on his belt that held up his uniformed slacks.

They both looked ravished at the sight of you, like you were the finest meal. Your sounds of distress began to rise. “Go away. Where’s Nick?”

“Now, now, that’s no way to talk to guests, is it? And you can’t even address your alpha correctly, tsk,” a new man entered with Charles and Chase close behind. His shades covered his eyes, but the way his thick moustache curved with his smirk told you all you needed to know. He wasn’t a good person.

“I think we can forgive her for being rude given the circumstances, don’t you think?” Yet another two men entered, and your head was beginning to swirl with the number of alpha scents in the room. The man looked rough and rugged as if he worked hard and was weathered by it.

“I think Hal is right, Lloyd. Give the omega a break for being flustered,” Hal’s companion said as he made his way to the table, taking one of the caviar toasts to snack on. The moment you heard the crunch, you opened your mouth instinctively, desperate to eat.

“Are you not feeding this thing, Fowler?” Charles called out as Nick and Steve entered together.

They were all speaking about you, not to you. And it had your blood boiling as the myriad of other emotions began to rise to the surface. “Fuck off! All of you! Leave me alone. You’re all fucking bastards. Stupid knotheaded bastards.”

Suddenly, all the attention was on you. No more chuckles or snide comments, just the piercing gaze of eleven alphas and the one beta, Steve. Your heart lurched, the intensity sudden.

“I’ll kill all of you. The moment I get out of here, you’re all dead,” you snarled as you looked at Nick. Since you’d last seen him, he’d changed into a black button-up and suit pants.

He looked like his role. A mob boss with the power of a prime alpha. But more than anything, he looked like a man sent to the point of desperation. He was holding himself with a mask of calm, but you could feel what lay beneath the surface, the same as he could for you.

“Drinks, anyone?” Hal’s companion broke the silence, and the men eased, tense shoulders releasing.

“Yeah, Ari. Good idea,” Chase kept his eyes on you as he made his way to the table. 

Small talk restarted amongst the men, but you kept your gaze on your alpha. No one else mattered anyway. What was the point of this party? Some chance to show off his defying omega?

Nick ignored you, but you could feel the red string between you two. He was still connected whether he wanted to give you attention or not. You watched as he went and whispered something to Mace and Beck, the duo’s faces hardening.

They both looked at Nick with concern, but he shrugged them off, returning to his conversation with Steve and Lloyd. Like a hawk surveying your surroundings, your breathing began to quicken when Mace and Beck approached.

“Please, don’t touch me. I- I’ll kill you. I can’t– I need–” You couldn’t bring yourself to say it. You needed your alpha.

“You should have thought of that before you acted up, omega,” Mace snapped, but his eyes had a sense of guilt to them. 

Beck wouldn’t look at you as he and Mace worked on getting you down. When the rope went lax, you fell into Beck’s arms, your legs too weak to hold yourself up. The sobs started. You were finally feeling touch, but it was wrong. Beck’s scent wasn’t foul, but it wasn’t right. It wasn’t what you needed. 

Mace came up behind you, and his presence was all wrong too. “No, no, no. Get off!” You couldn’t struggle even if you had wanted to. After God knows how long suspended on pressure points, your muscles were weakened to the point that they were practically useless. Every time you went to swipe at the men, it was no more than a weak slap, Mace and Back wholly unperturbed.

“Shh, shh. You’ll only make it worse for yourself,” Beck soothed into your ear, but you could hardly hear it with your heavy cries.

Mace picked you up from Beck’s arms, cradling you for the room to look at. And look they did.

The scent in the air spiked into something hazardous, and every omega instinct told you to run. Danger. Nick stayed at the back of the room, sitting in one of the velvet armchairs with a glass of what looked to be straight vodka, shooing away Steve when he tried to tell him something.

Mace placed you in the centre of the room, your back hitting the plush rug. It was a different sensation from the cold wall, and it was nice to feel something warm and fuzzy for a split second. But the reprieve was short lived as the other alphas in the room began to approach. 

You tried to crawl away, but your arms and legs didn’t move despite your mind begging them to do so.

Steve crouched before you, deft fingers gripping your chin, forcing you to look at him. “I want you to think of one thing, omega. This is happening because you denied your alpha.” 

The clock ticked in the background, timed with his words, your mouth dropping into a wail.

“This,” Tick. “Is,” Tick. “Happening,” Tick. “Because,” Tick. “Of,” Tick. “You,”

Like an odd hypnosis, you blinked as Steve pulled away. Wait. What is happening?

Whistles and howls filled the room, and it had you shivering in fear before you realised it. The scent in the room turned sickly sweet, dripping with arousal. Apart from Mace, Beck and Nick, all the men in the room were palming themselves, watching how your bare chest rose and fell with each breath.

They’re not here for a social visit.

Steve pulled down the fly to his black jeans, and your stomach twisted painfully. No. Hal and Ari joined him, the three of them taking out their hardening lengths.

It wasn't  real. It was just a bad dream. This was just a nightmare, right?

“Open up, omega. And I better not feel any teeth,” Steve guided his cock to your lips, smearing the head across them. His beta scent was as powerful as the alpha’s around him, making your head pound. It was far too real to be a dream.

“No,” You shook your head. No. No way. But with the way the ticking clock buzzed in your brain and touch starved sensory overload took over when Steve gripped your jaw and squeezed painfully, you started to lose your fight as your mouth opened.

Steve didn’t give you a chance for a snide comment before he pushed himself into your wet mouth, groaning under his breath at the feeling of your tongue gliding against him.

Betas typically weren’t as well endowed as alphas, but it seemed Steve was an exception with the way he filled your mouth to the brim. Your lips stretched painfully around him, and while you were tempted to bite, the repercussions scared you too much. 

While he began working himself in your mouth, Hal spat into your hand before resting his length into it. When you didn’t move to stroke him, he wrapped his hand over yours, directing you to move your hand up and down. His ridges and veins slid across your palm, and you couldn’t wrap your whole fist around him with how thick he was.

Ari gently raised your tired legs, spreading them open so he could look at your bare pussy. He let out a low whistle as he ran his fingers up and down your folds. You tried to shake your head, but you couldn’t with Steve holding you steady.

“That’s it, ‘mega. You’re crying, but you’re so wet,” Ari breathed out, testingly pressing a finger into your awaiting heat. He was right. Your body reacted to the attention it had denied for so long despite your want to escape.

“Jesus, just fuck her already,” Robert sniped, his impatience clear as Ari stretched you open, a second and third finger added to your core. 

“I’ll fuck her when I’m ready to fuck her,” Ari snapped back. The tension between the alpha’s made you feel even more uncomfortable.

Your distress was evident when you whimpered around Steve’s cock. Hal cooed to you, thrusting into your hand and gently brushing his fingers over your arm. “You’re alright. C’mon, that’s it, good girl. Good fucking girl.”

Ari prepped you, working you open with his fingers, but you hardly registered it as your head felt underwater, drowning in the mixed scents of all the men.

Going from touch starved to suddenly overwhelmed was a horrible, nauseating feeling that had you wanting to crawl to Nick and beg for him to make it stop. But when you managed to look at him, you were met with little help. Slouched in his chair, with the dogs by his side, sat Nick. Mace and Beck situated not far from him, all observing you. 

“Don’t look at him. Eyes on me, omega,” Steve commanded, tapping your cheek until you turned your attention back to him. His thrusts into your mouth were on the side of gentle, easing himself in and out without choking you. “Remember what I said. This is all because of you.”

The tears started streaming more heavily down your cheeks as Ari pressed the head of his cock between your folds. You tried to squirm your hips away, but he held you firm. “I have no intention of hurting you. If you stay still this will be easier.”

You didn’t listen, continuing to try to writhe away. What would James think if he saw this? He’d be horrified.

The scents of the three started getting headier, along with those still waiting their turn. You could cut the air with a knife, the atmosphere rigid and palpable.

You cried as Ari bottomed out, his cock stretching you. It wasn’t like the stretch of your alpha, and the mere fact that it wasn’t your alpha was enough to have your body clenching, your walls wanting to force him out. “Fuck. So fuckin’ tight,” Ari cursed under his breath, beginning languid movements that had you seeing stars.

Like a ragdoll, your body met the needs of the three alphas. Their moans filled the room while you wished for nothing more than to sink into oblivion.

“That’s it, good girl. Good little omega. Take it nice and deep. Feels good, doesn’t it? Yeah, yeah I know it does.”

You didn’t register the words of praise, but your attention snapped back to reality when you heard Nick speak.

“Stop praising her like she’s yours,” The prime alpha ground his teeth, jaw set tight.

Ari stopped his movements, stilling inside you while his length pulsed. “None of us want her. We know she’s yours. This is business.”

“I want my omega to smell like me. She smells like you,” Hal commented, keeping your hand moving while his eyes fluttered.

The response seemed to satisfy Nick, and they quickly resumed taking what they needed from you.

It wasn’t long before you could feel them getting close, their breaths heavier, sweat beading along their brows. But before their knots could swell, they all pulled away, leaving you flustered. What.. they weren’t going to finish? You were almost grateful. Perhaps that was it.

Beck came and gave you a once over before he nodded to the rest of the men, and another three stepped up. Lee, Chase and Charles approached, their cocks already red and leaking from watching you getting used by their friends and acquaintances.

It’s almost like a party, with the guests enjoying the food, drinks and the host's omega. In a way, you were no more than food on a platter, ready for the taking. Ready to be picked at by all the guests.

Lee was rough as he settled between your legs, taking the chance to grope at your flesh and feel every curve. “Cute lil’ thing. S’fucking soft too. I can see why she’s yours, Nick.”

You turned your head to look at your alpha, your free hand gripping the carpet to try and pull yourself closer to him. Maybe if you could get there, he’d end this. You managed to flip yourself onto your stomach, but all it did was give you carpet burn when you tried to drag yourself.

“Are we that scary that you’re trying to run?” Chase leant in close to the shell of your ear, playfully nipping at it. “Oh, I can be really frightening if you want.”

There was something else there. A supernatural sense that chilled you to the bone. You looked at him with wide eyes, but he merely looked smug with a quirk of his head. “Aren’t you curious to know what it is? Want to have a scare, little omega?”

“Stop it, Chase. Don’t fuck with her,” Mace interjected, cutting Chase off, who merely pouted in response.

“Fuck her, not fuck with her. Got it,” Chase gave a charismatic smile, leaning down to lick a stripe across your cheek before rubbing his cock over it, so his saliva smeared all over your skin. It was a sickly slimy feeling that made you want to throw up, not that your stomach had any contents at the moment.

He used the makeshift lube to easily slip between your swollen lips, pressing in hard and deep until he hit the back of your throat. You choked around him, but it provoked him to do it more.

Lee lifted you so you were on all fours, giving your ass a smack that left a red hand-shaped welt in its wake. Charles helped you steady yourself before taking your hand for his use. This time you got the message, beginning to stroke him while Lee started to thrust.

Maybe if you just played along, this would all be over quickly.

The strain on your body was paramount as Lee jolted you with each brutal snap of his hips, the fabric of his uniform scratching against your ass. His hands held on so tight to your hips that there would surely be bruises. “S’fucking good. Shit. I wanna try her mouth though.”

Chase pulled out of your mouth with a grunt, his length shining with your spit. You coughed, finally able to breathe properly, some of your saliva falling into the plush rug below. 

“Messy little thing,” Charles groaned, moving to your mouth along with Lee. “Think we’ll both fit?”

“No, but it’ll be amusing to see her tryin’,” Lee snickered before his and Charles’ cocks breached your mouth.

A frail scream left you from the stretch, your eyes scrunching closed from the intrusion. They didn't fit, but they fucked into your mouth regardless. When Lee pulled back, Charles thrusted forward, and when Charles pulled back, Lee pushed in. They worked in tandem, ignoring your broken pleads that were muffled by their dicks.

Chase wasted no time in burying himself to the hilt in you, his thrusts deep and rutted like an animal chasing a primal instinct. “God, fuck, so good. Can I bite her?”

“No,” Beck and Mace snapped in unison, arms crossed as they forced themselves to watch. 

Chase shrugged, the slaps of his hips getting louder as he started getting rougher. Your ass was burning from the impact, and your lips stretched and sore. Everything hurt. Emotionally and physically.

Every time you closed your eyes you saw flashes of James holding his hand out to you. Please. Please get me out of here. But he was no more than a ghost now. There was no one who could save you now.

“If you’re broken, you won’t know any better anymore.”

The picture of James began to warble, his face becoming obscured and replaced. Instead of your lover, it was your alpha. Nick. You needed him more than ever.

Your mind was becoming another for the world’s graveyard of broken souls. Discarded, crossed by everyone around them, unmet with mercy. But this meant you could let go. You would never move on, but you didn’t have to in order to be free. While you would never move from the loss and grief, you could let go. And perhaps that gave you a chance at a gilded freedom provided by your alpha.

Is it so bad to just want to be happy?

You were a bird with golden wings, feathers so bright it left others in awe, and song so sweet it had others listening intently. Your intentions were pure. All you ever wanted was to love and be loved, live a simple life and find some happiness. But that was rare in this world. Not many held the purity of joy that you did. And so, you’d become imprisoned. A bird fluttering, confined by the bars of your alpha.

Alphas had an incessant need to conquer, to clip the wings of those around them so they felt more powerful, even if they were the privileged ones in the first place. You never stood a chance.

For James, you’d waged a war you never could have vanquished. You’d done nothing more than bring a knife to a gunfight. And the lengths Nick Fowler would go to break you had you reaching a realisation.

Letting go of James meant that he was part of your history, not your destiny. And while that was painful, keeping his memory close was weighing you down like weights on your ankles, dragging you down to the watery depths where monsters lay in wait.

It was easy to hate Nick Fowler. To engrave the words ‘I hate you’ onto your heart. But to let go, to allow yourself to find whatever slither of happiness awaits you, you could not hate. It was simply too painful. A burden you could not bear. Not anymore.

The world was beginning to fracture at the sides, your mind hardening as the cracks started to form. You weren’t going to last like this. And that was okay.

“It’s okay. You’ll be okay. Let go, baby. Let go,” James’s voice rang in your head, and you howled louder than ever.

The dogs started barking and snarling at your distress, and Nick had to hold them back by their collars to stop them from trying to protect you.

Chase’s nails dug into your hips, Lee pulled at your hair, and Charles blocked your nose. The pain bloomed like a macabre rose for your mental funeral of James, and your eyes rolled back into your head as your arms gave way. Lee looped an arm under you to hold you up while they kept fucking your mouth, your spluttered breaths ignored. 

You didn’t see how Steve whispered to Nick or how the other alphas were entranced with how your body began to shake. The incessant barks fell on deaf ears before the dogs had to be ushered out of the room by Mace. They let out whines as they were denied saving you from shattering.

The way you viewed Nick began to rapidly change. The bitterness fled like animals fleeing a bushfire at pace. The past was the past, but your prime alpha was the future. Hormones took over, your hindbrain taking control. All that was left was an omega desperate for their alpha.

The convulsions didn’t stop as you began to run out of breath, Chase fucking you like a man unhinged until his knotted base started to swell and catch at the entrance to your cunt. Your body seized. You needed your alpha’s knot, not Chase’s.

Luckily, the alpha’s did what the men before had done, letting you go just before they reached their climax. Your body was dropped to the floor on your stomach with an ungraceful oof, vision hazy as you tried to lift yourself up. But you had no energy left, everything screaming to just get to your alpha.

“Alpha,” You whimpered, and when your eyes met Nick’s, he looked at you with veiled shock. You’d called for him. After all the fighting and pain, you were calling for him. “Alpha, please.”

“Not yet, omega. You’re almost done,” Steve intervened, not allowing Nick to speak for fear that he would give in now that you were breaking for him.

After Beck checked you over, his jaw set, Ransom, Robert and Lloyd descended upon you, and their gazes were by far the darkest. The aura that oozed off them was malice, and it had you shivering from your spot on the floor.

“Aw, sunshine. You’re shaking like a leaf,” Lloyd laughed, squatting before you, biting on the end of his sunglasses before he looped them through the front of his shirt. “I haven’t even touched you yet.”

“Please, I just want my alpha,” you cried, surprised you still had tears left after the amount you’d been sobbing.

“You’ll get him. But like Stevie said, you’ve got to make us happy first,” his fingers gripped your chin, tilting your head to examine you. 

“Dibs on fucking her mouth,” Ransom cut in, taking some food from the table onto a small plate. You watched him as he took two oysters and some salmon, confused as to why he was getting food as he neared you.

The others were helping themselves too. Although Lee and Hal turned their noses up at it, seemingly not keen on fancy food. They’re more homebodies, you guessed.

“I’ll take those pretty little hands,” Robert licked his lips, cock bobbing as it stood proud, released from his slacks.

You were lifted from your place on the ground, Lloyd sitting with his back to the couch seat and ass against the plush rug. He dragged you into his lap and directly against his hard cock, grinding himself against you.

“I don’t want this, please, stop,” you yowled, trying to wriggle away, but all it did was make Lloyd groan as he kept grinding against you.

“What you want doesn’t matter, sweets,” Robert sniggered, coming up close to whisper in your ear. “You’re at our mercy now.”

Despite having nothing left to lose, the fear was immobilising. You weren’t afraid of death, but living terrified you. The unrelenting pain it brought. The bleakness. All you had now was your alpha, the thing you craved most despite the circumstances. Wanting Nick Fowler was a horrifying feeling.

The three vultures that remained  between you and your alpha had you feeling like you were swimming, but when you tried to put your feet down on the sand, the water was far deeper than you thought, and there was nothing there to ground you.

Your brain felt like mush, a mess of emotion and need. Despite your protests, your pussy provided more than enough slickness for Lloyd to rub his cock between your folds before impatiently beginning to guide you down onto his cock. You cried out but couldn’t move with his grip on you, Ransom and Robert watching.

“Put those hands to use, c’mon, we don’t have all day,” Robert grabbed your wrists, a harsh grip that had your bones aching. There was no need for the use of force, but he seemed to find a sick thrill in the power of watching you in pain, just as Lloyd and Ransom did.

Lloyd pulled you down until you reached the scruffy hair at the base of his cock, using your body like a fleshlight up and down on his dick. Robert painfully clung to your wrists as he guided your wet palms over his rigid flesh, all while Ransom watched amusedly.

“You must be hungry, hm? I bet you’d love some salmon, ducky,” Ransom teased, eating the smoked salmon as he towered over you while your eyes fluttered from how Lloyd dragged his length along your walls.

You shook your head. You wanted none of it. You wanted to be in the arms of your alpha and nothing more. 

The stability of your mind was wavering, and you couldn’t even bring yourself to form words with the way everything hurt. Physically your body was fatigued and battered, and mentally you were a wilted rose, fragile petals torn.

“Hm. I don’t like being ignored, omega. Your alpha brought us here to teach you a lesson, one I intend to make sure you remember.” Ransom held up the fishy shells under your nose with nothing but oysters left on his plate.

You retched, stomach rolling in disgust from the salty sea smell coming from the slimy thing. You’d never had an oyster before, and you had no wish to try it now.

Ransom chuckled as Lloyd kept working you over his cock, with Robert using your hands to stroke himself.

For a moment, your eyes checked over the rest of the room's occupants. You searched for a reprieve, but no one was coming to your rescue. There was a gain in having you break like this, and you whined into the air as you tried to squirm towards your alpha but were held firm by Lloyd’s ring-covered fingers. “Uh-uh sunshine, no getting off my lap ‘til I’m done with you.”

“I want you fed before you take my cock, ducky. That way you don’t get nibbly on me. Who knows how far your hunger goes, isn’t that right?” He spoke to you like a child that’s being chastised, and it had a heat building in your cheeks. It was humiliating and had you spiralling further into the shell of an omega.

Ransom didn’t allow you to shy away. His fingers gripped your cheeks so your mouth opened in a forced pout. It took all your might to close your lips, refusing to let anything go into your mouth.

A strong arm looped around your neck, Lloyd’s bicep curling around your throat as he kept making you ride him. A strangled sound escaped you as the breath was knocked from your lungs, shock taking over.

Robert joined in, pulling your hair so your head tilted back into Lloyd’s tight hold. The world began spinning the more oxygen you lost, your lungs cut off from filling with air.

“P- Pl-“ You couldn’t get the words out, tingles all over your body with the way the world began to have a vignette at the edges.

Was this the final curtain call? Was the sick show finally coming to an end?

“Let her go, Lloyd,” Hal called, annoyance clear despite how his cock bobbed hard between his legs.

Mace and Beck stepped forward, ready to intervene, but Steve stopped them. “You want your friend to get the omega of his dreams? Then you need to let this happen.”

“They’re hurting her,” Mace snapped, and you reached out your free hand towards them despite the way your body was beginning to give way.

“A little pain is necessary. She will survive.”

Using your distracted state, Ransom opened your mouth and slid the raw oyster out of its shell and onto your tongue.

Your eyes went wide at the sudden movement. Before you could spit out the slimy food, Ransom clamped his hand over your mouth and nose. Your attempts to flail were fruitless, and the longer it lay in your mouth, the stronger the oyster’s taste became.

You cried against Ransom’s hand as you chewed, which was a mistake in itself, and swallowed the oyster.

“You’re not meant to chew it so much, silly ducky,” Ransom laughed heartily, amused at your disgust. “Here, let's try that again. Now, do as I say. Chew it twice, then swallow.”

Lloyd and Robert loosened their grips so you could breathe, and when Ransom moved his hand, you gulped in air greedily. “N-No. No more,” you begged to deaf ears.

The two alpha’s held you still as Ransom held the second oyster to your lips. You turned your head away despite the hold in the roots of your hair, but it was useless.

Ransom forced the second oyster into your mouth, and you wanted to throw up. You did as the alpha had told you. You gave two chews and swallowed. It was far less horrid, but still an experience that had you gagging when you were released.

Your clear distress had Lloyd’s cock twitching inside you, his breath hot against the back of your neck as he started fucking up into you again.

“You’d think I’d fed her a lemon. Stupid slut, I could buy an omega for the price of these,” Ransom sniped, throwing the plate aside.

“Watch it, Ransom,” Beck growled, Mace barely holding him back from approaching.

“What? She’s a stupid—”

“She isn’t yours to insult,” Beck spat, only backing down when Ransom raised his hands in concedement.

Like the others before them, the three alphas used you for their pleasure. Your brain started to check out, and dissociate, taking you to a better place.

But for some reason, every better place you could think of had Nick there. Your alpha. As long as his scent enveloped you, you were safe. It was a rapidly growing dependency.

When the alphas grabbed at you harshly, you wondered. Would Nick let you build a nest with his clothes? You didn’t want to be without him while he was busy.

If Ransom, Lloyd and Robert noticed you zoning out, they didn’t say anything. They just used you harder until their knots were beginning to swell.

Steve joined the scene, your eyes dazedly watching him as he helped the others lay you down on the rug. You turned your head to the side, the faintest waft of your alpha coming from the fabric. You rubbed your nose into it, a high whine coming from you.

“She’s fucked stupid,” Charles said, mostly in amazement at the scene of you nuzzling into the rug. There were a few laughs in response, words coming through one ear and out the other as you struggled to keep up with all the men surrounding you.

You couldn’t focus as they stood over you, your visuals overloaded. But when the first shooting string of warmth hit you, you realised what was happening. Your ears clued into the distinct groans of the alphas, but their salty-twinged scent covered your skin.

You gasped, wanting to escape it, but multiple hands held you down as more smells began mixing.

It was complete and utter sensory overload as the eight alphas (and one beta) stroked themselves until they came over you, their knots hot and heavy in their grips as sticky white covered you. You wailed, trying to get to your alpha.

It smelt wrong, like getting hit to the head with a sledgehammer as the scents covered you.

“Alpha! Help me! Make it stop, please,” you thrashed, and before long, the men were finished. You sobbed, completely drenched in their cum. 

Without realising it, your body began shaking, the touch starvation to complete overload from other scents sending you into a frenzy. The sobs that wracked through you were miserable, pathetic wails sounding as the anxiety hit you.

The men moved away to mingle, and your knight in shining armour arrived.

Nick’s face came into view, and you wailed with outstretched grabby hands.

He smiled at you. A genuine smile that had warmth flowing through your bond. He’d got what he wanted. You. Broken. And now his to put back together.

“Look at you, puppy. My beautiful girl,” he cooed to you, taking a soft towel Beck handed him to begin wiping away some of the cum from your skin.

“I can’t- I can’t- I can’t-“ Your teeth chattered as your heart raced in quick tandem. The panic was unrelenting, but your muscles were too spent to raise yourself and touch him.

Nick’s large palm cupped your cheek, and he leaned in close. His rings were cold against your hot flesh, which was a soothing feeling. “Tell me what you want. What you need, little pup.”

There was nothing left of you. The girl who was taken from her home was no more.

“Y-You. You. Alpha, help me, please. I can’t- Oh god- I can’t d-do this,” you cried between hiccuped sniffles, and Nick nuzzled his nose against yours.

“See? All you had to do was ask,” Nick gently jabbed, and the normal you would have snapped back. But you weren’t the same person anymore, not after what he’d put you through.

Without acknowledging the guests, Nick cleaned you up the best he could with the towel before he scooped you up bridal style. He began carrying you towards the bedroom, and it had some relief coming to your cluttered mind.

You wanted to be as far away from the other alphas as possible. The whole way up, Nick spoke to you like a new pet. “Such a pretty pup, aren’t you? My pretty pup. I can’t wait to give my sweet puppy a shower. Silly little thing, getting all dirty.”

He carried you to the bathroom and placed you on the cold tiled floor to prepare the shower.

But when he moved away from you, your brain just couldn’t handle it. He was too far, even though he was only a few steps away. “Alpha,” you whined, and Nick turned to look at your beady eyes staring up at you. 

“Say it again,” he rasped, fingers twitching at his sides.

“Alpha. Don’t leave me, please.”

“I’m not leaving you, pup. I’m trying to get the shower ready,” Nick smirked, the enjoyment of your attachment evident. He moved to pick you up, and this time he put you on his hip as he began running the water and getting all the things he’d need. 

“You’re a needy pup, aren’t you?” Nick said, but it wasn’t an insult. It was clear he was revelling in it. He manoeuvred you around while he undressed, and for the first time, you moved to touch him first.

You dragged your nose over his neck, inhaling his scent that had your heart fluttering and pussy clenching. Your fingers ran over his inked skin, feeling each chiselled muscle within reach. From biceps to abs, you felt all of it. This was.. yours? Could you call Nick yours?

The warm water hit your back as Nick walked you under the stream, both of you sighing in relief. It had been a long day.

“Are you going to get other omegas?” It wasn’t unheard of, alphas making a little harem for themselves. 

You felt the flash of anger through the bond, and Nick growled in offence. “No. I only want you, omega.”

“Why?” You couldn’t help yourself but ask. What made you so special? A small-town girl in a prime alpha’s world.

“Later you can ask all the questions you want. But for now, let me make you feel good,” Nick let your back rest against the shower wall, wrapping your legs around his waist so you were sandwiched.

The warm water covered you both, and your eyes fluttered closed. Nick took the body wash, using his hands to cover you in the suds. The distressing smell of the other men started to dissipate with each swipe of his hands, the scent replaced with something neutral before the strong smell of your alpha wafted over the top.

Nick rubbed the scent gland on his wrist across your body, allowing you to relax while his aura took over. It calmed you completely, your body going lax the more he touched you.

This was all you wanted now.

You shuddered when his fingers grazed your nipples, the nubs hardening the more he ran his fingers over them. He drew languid circles with his fingers around your areolas, the teasing causing you to whine, but you made no move to stop him. It felt too good.

Even if it tried, the water couldn’t wash away the slick forming between your folds. Your eyes fluttered open, and you gasped at the sight you were met with.

Dark, lustful eyes met yours, and you felt swallowed whole by the way Nick looked at you. “You want me to touch you, don’t you?” He whispered, and you nodded.

Nick licked your cheek as his hands travelled lower, resting on your stomach. “Here?”

You whined and wriggled your hips, feeling his hardening length pulse against your ass.

“Use your words, omega,” Nick’s fingers tickled your tummy, and you laughed. When was the last time you’d laughed?

“Lower,” you breathed out, still squirming for contact.

“Hm, how about here?” Nick’s fingers moved lower until they sat at the top of your cunt, teasing your mound.

You gripped his shoulders, shaking your head. “Lower, alpha, please.”

“That’s my girl,” Nick purred before his fingers dipped between your folds.

Your body became ignited the moment he breezed over your clit, your cunt throbbing for any contact. “Oh, oh,” you moaned. “Please, alpha, right there.”

“Right here? Well, since you used your manners and asked so nicely,” Nick rolled your clit between his fingers, causing you to howl in surprise as the pleasure shot through your entire body.

After being starved and tortured, this was heaven.

He didn’t stop, beginning to rub your clit as he ground his cock against you, his other hand palming at your soft mounds. The sounds pulled from you were obscene as your body was, for once, manipulated for your pleasure.

The heat in your core started to grow rapidly, and the connection in your bond meant that you were feeding off each other’s arousal, only heightening the experience. Just as he could feel you, you could feel the burning fire coming from Nick. It had goosebumps rising on your skin and your hair standing on end.

“That’s it, puppy. Let your alpha take care of you.” Nick’s words were entirely possessive, and it only further ingrained his hold over you. Your alpha. He saved you from the bad men. Right? He took you away. And now he’s taking care of you. That’s not so bad, right? 

Your sounds started to hit a higher pitch as Nick increased his pace, leaning forward to lick and nip at your neck as his fingers didn’t stop toying with your clit. “Does that feel good? Having your alpha play with your puppy pussy?”

It all started to become too much, your body buzzing with the electrical currents of pleasure. Your legs began to tense around Nick’s hips as your core tightened. “Alpha, I’m– I’m going to–”

“That’s it, pup. Come for your alpha. Give me everything,” Nick snarled into your ear, and his voice's lewd harshness had you reaching your peak.

You came with a yowl, body shuddering as the waves of pleasure washed over you. Your fingers gripped Nick’s shoulders so tightly that your nails dug into his skin, leaving crescents in his mix of black ink and pale flesh.

“Good girl, gushing against my cock. I didn’t even have to finger you,” Nick smiled, and the old you would have been cocky about how his fingers would never have been enough for you. But now, all you could do was give a small smile in return. Your alpha was cocky, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

Nick leaned forward to ghost his lips over the shell of your ear as he positioned himself against your clenching hole, and you could tell he was smiling in the way he spoke. “Are you ready for your treat, puppy?” 

Nick pushed his hips up without warning, burying his cock deep into your awaiting heat. You choked out a moan at the sudden feeling of fullness. Having Nick stretching you out around his length felt right. A cosy feeling of home made you feel safe and loved. Like the best nest you could ever build.

“A perfect fit, just for me,” Nick grunted as he held you tight so he could thrust up, massaging your walls with each groove and vein along his dick. 

You closed your eyes, allowing your head to fall forward into the crook of Nick’s neck. He rolled his hips in slow, languid movements that had you constantly whining. The air felt thick enough to cut with a knife, but you didn’t need air when you had your alpha. 

The movement of your bodies together was slow and passionate. Nick’s hands gently pulled your head back, so your forehead rested against his. You could feel the heat of his breath against your lips, and it had you leaning in closer until your lips met.

Both of you were drenched from the shower’s spray, making it easy to slide your lips together as Nick cupped your cheeks. He deepened the kiss, his hips grinding deep and hard as you bounced against the wall.

Nick bit your bottom lip, allowing blood to pool between you before he sucked it away, a hum mixing in with his groans. He didn’t break away from the kiss. Instead, he slid his tongue into your mouth, swirling it against yours and fucking your mouth with it. 

The action was vulgar, but it had your walls fluttering around Nick’s cock regardless. Nick’s pace started to quicken, and he had to pull away to let out a loud, whimpered moan. “So fucking good.”

His thrusts began to increase in rhythm, and Nick grabbed your hips to fuck harder into you. He tilted his head to the side so you could return to your spot on his neck as you clung to him. The pleasure was beyond intense, and it felt like there was nothing else in the world but you two. 

“Bite me,” Nick hissed, and you pulled back in shock. “You heard me. Bite me, omega. Right fucking now.”

Lost in the lust and the way it made your brain haze, your brows furrowed. Surely he didn’t mean his mating spot. You went to bite his shoulder, away from his mating gland, but Nick harshly slapped your ass in response, earning a squeak from you. “Don’t make me ask again, omega. Bite me.” 

Nervousness flittered between the arousal. It was common for omegas to bite their alphas. But there was nothing common about this companionship. If you bit Nick, it would only strengthen the bond you two share. The old you would want anything but making the bond stronger. But now, the idea of it was endearing.

Nick thrust upwards sharply, his cock brushing against your g-spot. You moaned before you let your hindbrain take over and lowered your teeth to Nick’s mating gland. Heart racing, you bit down.

“Fuck, yes, yes, that’s it omega. You’re doing so fucking good,” Nick howled, throwing his head back as he clung to you, his hips not faltering for a moment. His balls slapped against your ass, his demeanour growing more feral as the metallic taste of his ichor twanged against your tongue. 

You held your jaw firm, letting the bite take hold as the coils in your core began tightening again. The wash of arousal in the bond grew tenfold, the connection strengthening as the bite set. Just as he had bonded you, you had bonded Nick. There was no turning back now.

If there wasn’t water washing you clean, you’d both have been covered in a sheen of sweat as every nerve felt as if it was on fire. “M’c-close, fuck, you feel too good.” Nick’s thrusts began desperate and reckless, setting a merciless rhythm that had heat pooling in your lower back and blooming across the rest of your body.

“Alpha, oh, a-alpha,” you managed to get out as you pulled away, your back arching. You bit your lower lip, trying to hold back your sounds.

“Let me hear you, need to hear you,” Nick gripped your chin, your face millimetres away as his knot began to swell.

Abandoning any semblance of reservation, you let the moans run free. The more his knot started to catch at your entrance, the closer you got to your orgasm. Neither of you could speak as your stuttered groans mixed together. 

Nick held your gaze as his knot finally stuck, his dilated pupils baring his soul as you felt the first shoot of his cum inside you. He reached between you, swirling his finger around your clit until you came with a wail.

The way you clenched around him milked his cock, his seed filling your plugged pussy. “Take it all, omega. My omega.” 

“Yours,” you sighed, letting your body go lax against Nick. 

He held you up for a few minutes, neither of you speaking as you enjoyed the moment of peace.

Peace. That’s what this was. No fighting. No running. No pain. Just.. quiet. 

All you could hear was your panting breaths and the steady stream of water. It was as if you stood upon a bridge, looking down at the river's stream below. The wind whipped in your hair, and you sat upon the railing that stopped people from falling. Did you want to fall? You could admire the view as you flew like a bird to the rocks awaiting below. Perhaps it would be like the movies where it all happened in slow motion, or maybe it would be a fast plummet that quickly brought upon the darkness. You swung your feet, staring down at the water. James was down there. He was waiting.

“Let's get you dry before you get a chill,” a soft voice called to you, and you looked over your shoulder to see Nick behind you. You turned back to the ground kilometres below. But James was down there. “C’mon, I can’t have you getting sick.”

A towel wrapped around your shoulders, enveloping you in a warmth that had you moving away from the bannister.

You blinked, back in reality. Nick placed you on the counter, drying you with care. “There she is. Where’d you go?”

“Nowhere,” you lied, letting Nick take care of you and himself.

“You’re a bad liar, omega,” Nick quipped, but he didn’t push you on it. He seemed content enough to have you yearning for him. 

Nick carried you to the bedroom on his hip when he'd finished, where Mace and Beck were waiting with the dogs sitting at their feet. “The guests have left?” Nick asked, to which Mace nodded. “Good. Make sure to pay each of them accordingly.”

Apollo came up and sniffed at your hanging feet, tickling your toes when he licked at you. You giggled, and it had the dogs ears perking up. 

“Go on, you can pet him.” Nick lowered you so you could kneel on the floor and give Apollo some pats. Hermes and Icarus quickly joined, all revelling in the attention from you.

“I’ve never seen them so affectionate,” Beck commented, a smile on his lips. 

It was an uncharacteristically nice moment as you played with the dogs. You were distracted with the pets as Nick, Mace, and Beck set up the room. A teapot of earl grey tea was placed on the nightstand, and a tray of fruits and sandwiches was on the bed.

“Puppy, we’re going to have a high tea. I need to make sure we get some food in you,” Nick picked you back up, taking you away from the dogs and into the plushness of his bed. The covers rustled as Nick lay you down. Before joining you, he lifted the duvet and sheets so you could sit under them. He propped his back up against the pillows and pulled you close against his side. 

Mace and Beck left, taking the dogs with them after they knew you were alright. Nick held a chicken sandwich to your mouth, and you allowed him to feed you. As he did, you couldn’t stop staring at the clock piece on his hand.

“Why two am?” You asked, eyeing the time on his tattoo.

Nick stiffened and froze for a moment. You’d stuck a nerve. It was evident in the way his eyes seemed glossier than usual.

“It’s not a pretty story, puppy.”

“It never is. Doesn’t mean it shouldn’t be told.”

Nick let out a sigh, picking at the sandwich as he kept giving you small bites. He pulled you against his chest so you couldn’t see his expression. “I failed to save my mother and sister at two am.”

“From who?” You asked, shocked at the admittance of such a loss.

“My father,” Nick gritted out, and he held you so tight, it felt as if your bones would break.

The answer confused you. Nick was acting kindly towards you now and obviously cared about the women in his family. “But then... Why do the work you do? If you lost your family to violence?”

Nick stayed silent for a moment, contemplating his thoughts before he spoke. “Because the world is cruel and hopeless. It’s no more than a chorus of dead souls looking for meaning. When people speak to you, they don’t look at you. They look through you. There’s no connection. There’s no saviour. It’s an unrelenting emptiness you’re forced to find a fill for. And this business fills that gap for me. I’m a slave to no one. I’m selfish. I make all the money I need. And it brought me to you, my omega,” he pressed a kiss to the top of your head, and for a moment, you could swear you felt a tear drip into your hair. “Life is nothing more than sex and violence and a mix of resonance and quiet. But you bring me song, omega. A soft melody that warms my heart. The ends justify the means.”

“Why me?”

“My mother would have loved you. She always loved the smell of roses; you have that beautiful scent. She’d tend to our garden every day. It’s as if you sprouted from my memory of her. I knew from the moment I scented you that I had to have you. You make me happy.”

Nick pressed another kiss to your head before he returned to feeding you. You didn’t question him further. The one enquiry had unearthed enough. And you were tired. So tired.

It was hard to keep your eyes open, and Nick noticed with a soft chuckle. “It’s okay, omega. Sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

He helped you lie down, pulling the covers up so you were snuggled tight. Nick spooned you, letting his lips rest against your shoulder.

You wondered if you’d dream. Perhaps you would dream of the sweet reprieve of death, something you’d thought about many times since you’d come to Nick Fowler's domain.

But as you thought about it, the idealism of perishing no longer seemed captivating. 

You wanted to wake up to your alpha, and continue to live with him. Live for him. For he was all you needed in this sick world.

Because Nick Fowler had broken you. He had won. And now he held your future in the palm of his hand.

Right as you drifted to a state of rest, Nick snuggled in close, pressing a kiss to your hair. “Fight me again, omega, and the consequences will be worse than your most horrifying nightmare. You’re mine. There’s no escaping that now. Sleep knowing your world is mine.”

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#ambswrites #nick fowler #nick fowler x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #sebastian stan #chris evans #steve kemp #steve kemp x reader #ari levinson #ari levinson x reader #lee bodecker #lee bodecker x reader #james mace #james mace x reader #chris beck #chris beck x reader #lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x reader #charles blackwood #charles blackwood x reader #ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x reader #chase collins #chase collins x reader #robert pronge #robert pronge x reader #hal carter #hal carter x reader

[sgt-seabass]

Hear me out about dark!TFAWS!(wintersoldier) bucky with a puppy or a kitten!reader?? Would he be mean like daddy!lloyd? Or would he be gentle but firm? Would he let you cum? Or would he let you suffer??? PLEASE LET ME KNOW!!!! I have had this thought all fricken day long and I NEED this. But take your time:) no obligation either! Love you Ambs!!

Hnghhhh I love this. There’s so many ways you could go with this but here’s what my brain is singing for.

Dark Bucky headcannon below -

Bucky never got to have anything of his own. He was someone else’s weapon, and when he wasn’t with Hydra, he was Captain America’s weapon. Steve didn’t mean to treat Bucky that way, but being Captain America’s best friend and right hand man meant there was a required personal sacrifice. And then after all Bucky gave, Steve left.

He’d never known how to own his own body, make his own decisions. He’d latched onto Sam when he took the mantle. It was easier that way - familiar.

Yet he longed for something of his own.

“You should get a dog or something. Like a therapy animal.” Sam had suggested.

And so Bucky got a pet. You.

A sweet thing he met working at the bookstore. Bucky had wanted a new copy of The Hobbit, but instead came home with so much more.

Bucky finally made a decision for himself. You would be his pet.

Keeping a crying, screaming girl in his Brooklyn apartment wasn’t going to work. So he took you out to his small cabin on the outskirts of the city. That way he could break you in before you could come home with him. All puppies need training, after all.

The big question is, how did Bucky treat his pet?

Well, being the only thing Bucky felt ownership for, he cherished you. But he also wouldn’t stand for your bullshit.

If you were good, he’d give you the world.

If you were bad, he’d take the world from you.

Of course, in the beginning you were unequivocally bad. Constantly trying to get out, attack him, deny him. But over time with training, spanking, and some gentle moments, your walls began to break down.

Someone’s sanity can only last so long when under constant duress. Bucky was admittedly impressed with how long you lasted. And it made his win all the more sweet when you broke.

Bucky wasn’t a mean lover, but he was demanding. He needed constant attention and affection. If he was home, you had to be with him. And when he left, he expected you to be thinking of him.

"Who's a good puppy? That's right, you are. Look at you, nuzzling at daddy's legs. Do you want your treat, pup? Daddy has got a nice big bone for you."

And when you were good, the rewards you got were stellar.

Play time was Bucky’s favourite. He’d get you on your back so he could tickle and play with your belly and tits, before giving you some of the strongest orgasms of your life. The little bell on your collar would jingle with the way your body shuddered from his ministrations.

Bucky was a pleasure dom at heart. He may have ripped you from your world to be in his own, but at the end of the day he only wanted his puppy to be happy with him.

#ambswrites #ambs answers #may 💙 #bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #dark bucky barnes x reader #dark bucky barnes x you #dark fic #bucky barnes headcannon #bucky barnes imagine #sebastian stan #sebastian stan character