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#dark!bucky x reader x dark!steve
kinanabinks · 5 months
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dark nights
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18+
you don't think sharing a room with your lecturers is a big deal. not until professor rogers starts going a little too far with his sleepwalking. thankfully, professor barnes is there to talk you through it.
content warning: dark!steve x f!reader x soft!dark!bucky, age gap, somnophilia, dub/noncon, naive!reader, smut, voyeurism, booby stuff, fingering, penetrative sex, rough sex, cream pie, cockwarming.
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As you lie on your side, the gentle sound of rain pattering against the window soothes you. You've never been quick to fall asleep, but the motel's lumpy mattress isn't helping. You are appreciate of Steve's warmth, though, and the fact that you don't feel uncomfortable to be sharing a bed with him at all.
When Professor Barnes invited you on this research trip, you knew you couldn't turn the opportunity down. Two weeks with two of the greatest minds in quantum physics? You had to say yes, utterly honored that they allowed you, a mere freshman barely two months into her college career, to accompany them.
Bucky was happy to take the sofa bed, where he lays now. He's still awake; you can hear him typing on his phone every so often. It's only been ten minutes since you got into bed but they did tell you Steve takes only minutes to fall into a deep sleep. They also warned you that he's prone to sleepwalking, which doesn't worry you - until you feel his arm wrap around you.
"Professor Rogers?" You whisper, turning your head to find his eyes closed as he softly snores.
"Everything alright?" Bucky asks you from the couch. The lamp by the TV is still on so you can clearly see him sitting up.
"Uh, yeah," You reply lowly. "All good."
Not convinced by your tone, Bucky stands up to check on you, his brows furrowing. "Steve sleepwalks, as we mentioned, pay it no mind," He assures you. "Try and get some sleep, flower. Big day tomorrow."
You take his advice, shutting your eyes and trying your best to relax - but then you feel Steve's hand cup your breast. You suck in a gasp, your eyes flying wide open.
"Professor Barnes," You call out to Bucky, who's still standing by the couch.
"What's wrong?" He asks you, taking a step closer.
"He.... he's touching my... chest," You manage to spurt out, cringing inwardly.
Bucky tuts, slowly walking over to you. "I'm sorry about him, but you must stay calm," He tells you firmly. "You can't wake up a sleepwalker."
Steve's fingers start rubbing and pulling at your nipple, making you freeze up. "He... Professor Barnes, please stop him!" You beg him desperately.
"Shh," Bucky whispers soothingly, coming closer to where you lay. His glasses rest lowly on his nose, the pipe in his mouth letting out smoke. "Be brave, flower. It can be incredibly dangerous to wake someone while they're sleepwalking."
"I - this isn't sleepwalking," You whisper, holding back your whimpers while Steve paws at your tits.
"Ah, but it is," Bucky retorts. "Sleepwalkers don't only get up and trot around in the night. I've heard some cases where they cook and eat an entire meal while asleep, and one man even drove all the way to work. It's a dynamic ailment, flower, please be patient with him. I'm sorry, I didn't know Steve's sleepwalking could manifest in a sexual manner, but I'm sure he'll stop soon."
You bite down on your lip and hope he's right. Carefully, you try to move Steve's hands off your breasts, but he only squeezes them harder, making you squirm. Suddenly he pulls up your shirt, exposing your breasts to the cold air - and worse, to Bucky's eyes.
"Professor," You shudder, bringing your hands up to cover your chest.
"Just relax," Bucky says lowly, his eyes dark. "It'll be over soon."
Steve pins your left shoulder down firmly before moving his head down. You aren't sure what he's doing until you feel his lips wrap around your nipple. A whimper leaves your mouth as he sucks on your tit, conflicting feelings coursing through you. Though you're terrified and embarrassed, you also feel pangs of pleasure shooting through you like electricity.
"Remain calm, flower," Bucky utters soothingly. "Let him continue and he'll stop on his own accord. We cannot wake him."
You're slightly frustrated at his words - surely a professor forcing his way on a student, whether consciously or not, is more important than whatever danger to Steve you would be posing by waking him up? You try to push him off you, but even in slumber, he's much too strong and heavy for you to try and fight against him.
Steve's hand suddenly pushes past the hemline of your shorts and bypasses your panties. You almost squeal as his fingers plunge into you with no warning, three digits stretching your entrance. The ease with which he's able to slide in, the juices which coat his fingers, leave you incredibly ashamed.
"Professor Barnes," You cry lowly between shaky breaths. "It - he's hurting me."
"Shh, shh, shh," Bucky hushes you as he places a comforting hand on your shoulder. "I'm sorry about this, honey, I really am, but there's nothing I can do. Try and close your eyes, think about something else."
You squeeze your eyes shut but no pleasant thoughts can distract you from Steve fucking you with his fingers. He curls and scissors them inside you, making your stomach flip. The sound of his fingers sloshing in and out of your wet cunt fill the room, and you're utterly humiliated.
Small whines and moans rush past your lips uncontrollably as Steve fingers you faster, his mouth still latched onto your hard nipple. You wince, trying not to let the pleasure take over, determined to remain professional.
"You're doing so well, flower," Bucky says as he looks your body up and down, watching as Steve violates you. "Being such a good girl, so calm."
"Please, Sir," You whimper, shaking your head. "Make him stop."
"I'm sure it won't be much longer, now," Bucky assures you, biting on his smoke pipe. "That's it, flower, stay nice and relaxed."
Your heart is beating out of your chest and it only beats harder when you feel Steve's hard cock resting against your bare thigh. Before you can move away from him, he pulls his fingers out of you and rips apart your shorts, panties and all. Your body is frozen in shock as he shoves you onto your side with a gruff grunt, and before you get the chance to realize what's about to happen and brace yourself for it, Steve pushes his entire cock into your cunt.
"Oh, my God!" You can't help but cry loudly. Hoping it's enough to wake him, you feel a sense of relief as he stops moving. There are a few moments of silence and just as you look up and meet Bucky's eyes with your tear-filled ones, Steve begins to roughly fuck you.
His hips snap against yours over and over as he mercilessly probes you with his thick cock. You could swear it feels like you're being torn apart, every inch of your skin on fire as you tightly grip onto the sheets.
"Just stay calm," Bucky says casually as he strokes your hair, watching Steve fuck you like an animal. "That's a good girl, just take it."
"Please," You whimper, crying with every hard thrust he serves you. It makes you feel even worse when the pain begins to make room for pleasure, as though you're just as animalistic and depraved as Steve's unconscious alter ego.
The springs in the mattress squeak beneath you as Steve fucks you harder and the headboard repeatedly smacks against the wall with a heavy thump. He lets out low grunts and growls into your ear, his hands keeping you pinned to the bed. A part of you doesn't believe that he's genuinely sleepwalking when you see the look in his eyes - but you remember what Bucky said. Some people can cook meals and drive cars while sleepwalking - it is so crazy to think someone could have sex while sleepwalking?
Still, though, you refuse to let Bucky know that a part of you is finding the sordid encounter enjoyable. While pleasure envelopes you and cascades down your spine, you keep on a strong face in hopes that it'll convince Bucky you can remain professional even in the most difficult and absurd situations.
"That's it, flower, you're being so good," Bucky mumbles, gently stroking your cheek. "It's almost over, I promise. Just a little longer. You're taking this all so well, being so good for us. We knew you would be."
His words confuse you for a second - did they know this was going to happen? But you shake away those thoughts. There's no way they would have let you come if they knew this was possible, you must have misunderstood him.
Steve's thrusts become quicker and harder as he fucks you into the mattress. Your legs shake and you can't believe how close you are to climaxing. You try to hold it back, refusing to orgasm in front of your professors, but when Steve suddenly begins rubbing harsh circles onto your clit while pulling and twisting your nipple, you know you have no control. With a loud cry, you cum onto his cock, your cunt squeezing around his pulsating shaft.
"That's it, good girl," Bucky mumbles, stroking your slacked jaw as your eyes roll back and your body trembles and shakes.
Steve thrusts a few more times before he cums with a grunt, filling you with his seed. You gasp at the feeling, his warm cum coating your insides, his twitching cock beating against your walls.
"You did so well," Bucky says, his own cock hard and leaking precum, threatening to burst through his pants. "You've been such a good girl tonight."
All you can let out is a weak whimper.
Bucky gives you a soft smile. "Now, get some sleep," He tells you firmly before making his way to the bathroom.
You breathe heavily, trying to process the events of the night, equally as ashamed as you are exhausted. A few moments pass and you wait for Steve to pull out and return to his side of the bed, but he remains where he is with his cock inside you, heavy arm around your body, soft snores leaving his mouth.
You try to push him off you but he only grips you tighter and even thrusts his softening cock in and out of you a few times, scaring you into remaining perfectly still for the rest of the night.
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masterlist
buy me a kofi <3
follow @kinanabinksupdates and turn on notifications so you know when I post 📫
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pluto34 · 21 days
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Another issue regarding x reader fics is that some of you weirdos will tag it x reader and then precede to sneak in descriptors of the reader in the story🤢 “long blonde hair” “her pale skin” and etc. Hotd and Outerbanks fic writers are the main culprits of this bs
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evansbby · 1 year
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𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟒
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part iv - just like animals
𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dark alpha!Steve Rogers x naive omega!Reader
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: smut, major angst, extremely dark themes, a/b/o dynamic, daddy!kink, dubcon, dumbification, bullying, breeding kink, pregnancy kink, size kink, housewife kink, semi-public sex, pussyjob, oral (f receiving),  extreme depictions of bullying and depression, 18+ only, minors do not interact!  
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You begin to lose hope, and Steve begins to lose his mind.
Series Masterlist 
𝐀/𝐍: Another warning that the angsty content and certain themes in this chapter may be difficult to read. Warnings are there for a reason. Apart from that, thank you so much for being so patient. It took me more than 4 months to write this and it’s 22.2k words long. Enjoy.
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Pregnant.
You stare so hard your vision blurs, until the two lines on the test are swimming around comically, almost as if they’re laughing at you. And then you’re blinking rapidly, because your eyes must be playing some kind of cruel trick, right? This can’t be real, this can’t be real, this can’t be real.
You’re pregnant. With Steve’s baby.
It’s with an almost detached silence that you get up and wrap all three tests in a big wad of toilet paper. Like you’re floating through the air, you stuff them under your shirt and make your way out of the room. With Steve still asleep, you venture downstairs and out the front door, the chilly morning air having no effect on you.
You bury the tests at the bottom of the garbage bin, like how you’re currently trying to bury all the emotions threatening to spill out of you. A baby. Inside you. Right at this moment. Steve’s baby. Your hand twitches, reaching up to touch your stomach before you stop yourself. What were you going to do now?
Steve reaches for you when you return to the bedroom, he looks half-asleep as he pulls you back into bed. You wonder whether here, cocooned in cosy warmth, you can just scrunch your eyes up real tight and pretend none of this is happening right now…
“Where did you go?”
“Steve, I… I’m…” Your throat constricts, and panic rises within you like bile as you try to regulate your breathing. “I just went downstairs to drink water.”
Steve hums, drawing you closer and burying his face in your neck while you lie completely still. As if any movement would somehow expose the fact that you’re pregnant. He peppers soft kisses onto your skin, tugging your shirt down to expose more of your neck.
“I’m gonna take you out for dinner tonight.” He says softly, and it’s the last thing you were expecting to hear from him right now. His lips drag up to kiss the corner of your mouth before moving down to your jaw, his hands stroking up and down your body as he holds you close. “You have an exam this morning, don’t you?”
You don’t know whether to laugh or cry at the fact that you’d forgotten you have an exam today.
“Y-Yeah.”
“Mm, so I’ll take you out after. Anywhere you want to go. We can even go shopping before that, I’ll buy you whatever you want.” Steve’s arms encircle around your waist, pulling you up as he rolls onto his back, so that you’re lying on his chest. He blinks up at you, blue eyes suddenly serious, “I want you to forget about everything that happened last night, omega.”
And just like that, it all comes rushing back to you. Like a hurtling freight train that had been momentarily kept at bay because you’d just found out you were pregnant. But now the memories come back at lightning speed. Bucky. Steve Junior. The fight. How Steve hadn’t defended you. How he’d left.
How he’d cheated on you.
How you’d begged him not to leave you.
“Forget all of it.” Steve repeats, cupping your face with both his hands. “None of that’s important anymore, as long as you’ll be good from now on.”
And just like that, he wants you to forget. Move on in a blink of an eye. Forget his cheating, his casual cruelty, how he’d laughed when you’d cried. How he’d told you every detail of his encounter with that other omega, how it had felt like you’d been punched in the gut repeatedly.
How could he expect you to forget? By pretending it never happened and distracting you with shopping trips, gifts and dinners? Was that his way of compensating? Didn’t he feel even a tiny bit of remorse? Could he even acknowledge how much he’d hurt you?
There’s a part of you, underneath all the newfound shock of being pregnant, that wants to confront him about all of it.
Instead, you nod mechanically. “Okay, Steve.”
“Good girl.” He kisses you a few more times before sitting up and setting you down next to him. “Pick a restaurant and text me, I’ll make the reservation.”
With baited breath, you watch him as he gets up, moving around the room to get ready for the day. You know that he’s got his morning run, then a gym session and then two exams back-to-back– which means you won’t see him until a lot later. Maybe it would give you enough time to gather your thoughts and make sense of your situation before you tell him.
***
Your own exam goes by in a blur. It doesn’t help that all you can think about is the fact that there’s literal life growing inside of you, but you somehow soldier through. With nerves mounting, you walk from the university building back to Steve’s house almost in a daze. Worries, questions, concerns, and fears swim around in your head like a school of frenzied fish. What are you going to do?
Acting on desperate impulse alone, you whip your phone out. Shaky fingers scroll desperately, searching for one blocked contact in particular. Almost in a frenzy, you tap on his name, unblocking him and calling him before you can change your mind.
“H-Hello? Peter?”
It takes a few moments for him to register that it’s you, and then:
“Oh my God. Are you okay?!”
The familiarity of Peter’s voice makes you want to cry, the sound bringing back fleeting memories of sitting on his sofa with a bowl of popcorn and a movie, complaining to him about all the alphas in your lectures. Playing computer games on his laptop and laughing when you beat him. Catching the bus to his house after days of not speaking to anyone at university, and the relief you’d feel when he’d open the door…
“I’m… I…Peter, I…”
You’re suddenly awash with shame. The last time you’d seen Peter, his face was spurting blood after being punched several times by Steve. And you hadn’t even bothered to call or text him after that, hadn’t bothered to see if he was okay. Granted, that was also the night Steve had mated you – oh, how could you ever explain all of this mess to Peter?
“Are you okay?” Peter repeats. “I tried to call so many times but you blocked me.” A pause, and then he adds: “Don’t worry, I realised that was probably Steve’s doing.”
You swallow harshly, “I should’ve called you. It’s just… He… He…” But you couldn’t blame it all on Steve, could you? In the past month and a half, it’s not like you’d gone out of your way to contact Peter. No, after Steve had mated you, it was like he’d consumed you, eaten you alive. Wrapped you up in this little bubble where it was just you and him and no one else mattered. A bubble you clearly had been in no hurry to escape from until it had popped unceremoniously all over your face.
“Is he treating you okay?” Peter’s question sounds tentative, as if he doesn’t quite believe his own words.
“No, Peter, I–” A strangled sob escapes your throat from out of nowhere, and you can feel the flimsy threads holding you together as they begin to come apart. “Everything’s a mess, a big fat mess and I don’t know what I’m going to do!”
“What happened? Did he hurt you?”
Why had you called him? How could you even begin to tell him everything you’d been through in the past twenty-four hours? Would Peter ultimately even care to listen to you complain about the man you’d cheated on him with? The man who you’d been living with for the past month, acting like his good little omega while pretending Peter no longer existed?
“It’s all a big mess.” You moan pathetically, hating yourself for how you sound. Here you were, hurt by one man and immediately trying to hurtle yourself into the arms of another. Stupid. Pathetic. Dumb. Careless. You’d gotten yourself into this mess. Just like Steve said – all your fault.
Your hand finds its way to your stomach, stroking it softly through the material of your dress. For a split second, you close your eyes and try and picture it. You, with a baby in your arms. Your very own baby – it looks exactly like you. And Steve coming home, smiling happily as he kisses you and takes your child, swinging it around while it giggles.
But like ink spilling on paper, the image darkens. Now it’s you alone with your baby. Cold, dark, dreary. Steve’s gone. He left you. Left you and left your baby. For that other omega. Left you just like how your dad left too. And it’s all your fault, all your fault, all your fault! Steve’s voice chanting in your head while your baby cries: all your fault, all your fault, all your fault!
“Hello? Are you still there?” Peter’s voice drags you out of your mind. “Look, just tell me what happened. I can help you. I know I wasn’t much help last time but I can help you now. We can figure something out, just tell me where you are, and–”
“I’m sorry,” You interrupt him, swallowing harshly. What had you hoped to achieve by calling your ex-boyfriend and telling him that your current boyfriend got you pregnant? No, you couldn’t do that to Peter. “Look, I don’t know why I called, I can’t drag you into my mess.”
“You haven’t even told me what the mess is–”
“I’m sorry, Peter.” You choke out before quickly hanging up. Methodically, you delete the call history and block his number once more. And then, it’s with almost mechanical grace that you wipe away your tears and clear your throat.
This is your mess. You have to handle it by yourself.
Still reeling from the impulsive phone-call and it’s abrupt ending, you walk the rest of the way back to Steve’s house in a daze of different emotions, wanting nothing more than to just escape your mind which seems to be working in overdrive. Reaching the front door, you’re about to twist the doorknob when you hear a click and the door swings open from the inside.
“Well, well, well. If it isn’t Little Miss Omega.” Words dripping with smug delight as if he’s caught you with your hand in the cookie jar, Bucky leans against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest and a wolfish grin on his face, “Was that you I just saw on the phone?”
You duck your head, hoping to just ignore the alpha, nudge past him and run up to yours’ and Steve’s bedroom. But Bucky easily blocks your path, leaving you standing outside on the porch and looking up at him in dismay. Again, you try to push past him but he’s too big, too strong, barely budging.
“I asked you a question. Who were you on the phone with? I bet Stevie doesn’t know, does he?”
Bucky intimidates you, with his light blue eyes and cold gaze. The way he’s always staring. And you don’t think you’ll ever forgive him for what he did to poor Steve Junior. Hands curling into fists by your sides, you can’t help but look to the ground, “I was talking to a friend about a textbook I’m looking for.”
“Nice try, sweetheart. Everyone knows you don’t have any friends.”
“Just let me in!” You try and be assertive, but shoving past him does you no good – just like Steve, he’s practically built like a brick wall.
“Let’s put it to a vote, shall we?” Bucky turns his head slightly, “Hey, Sam. Should I let little omega into the house?”
Over Bucky’s shoulder, you see Sam on the couch, feet propped up on the coffee table and a joint between his fingers, a slightly glazed look over his eyes. “I don’t give a fuck, man.”
“I’ll take that as a no. Sorry, sweetheart. I guess Steve should’ve trusted you with keys.” And you can’t believe it when the door slams in your face. You stand there in shock for a few seconds, wrapping your head around exactly what’s just happened. Overhead, the clouds grow darker and you hear a boom of thunder that has your chest tightening.
Hurriedly, you knock on the door once more, trying to persuade yourself that they’re just doing what they always do – acting like alpha jerks and joking around. Of course, they’ll let you in soon – they’d have to be heartless not to.
“Please let me in!” You call out, knocks becoming more incessant as panic begins to bubble inside of you – you’re not too fond of thunder, “Bucky, Sam, please! I think it’s gonna start raining!”
A rush of cold air has you shivering down to the bone, goosebumps rising up and down your limbs. It had been warm in the morning, so you’d worn only a light sundress – absolutely not ideal for the rainstorm that’s clearly about to hit.
“Guys, please!” You cry out again, and it comes out as a whimper. Bucky’s been awful as of late, but maybe Sam would grow irritated by your cries and come to open the door? That’s all you can hope for as you continue to slam your fists against the door harder and harder.
Suddenly, the door opens and you sag with relief until you see it’s Bucky again.
“L-Let me in. Please.” You hate that you have to beg him like this, after everything he’s said and done to you in the past. How he tore Steve Junior, how he called you a bitch in heat. Oh, how badly you wish Steve was here. But then, would Steve have even done anything at all?
Bucky tilts his head as if he’s pretending to think, “How about we strike up a bargain, sweetheart? You give me a kiss, and I’ll let you in.”
It’s as if someone’s dunked poison into your veins. Ugly, green poison that gives you a bad feeling and a bad taste all at once. You take a step back almost cautiously, “N-No.”
“You sure, omega?” Bucky licks his lips, pushing his brown hair out of his face as his gaze drinks you in hungrily. “It’s awfully cold out there, and nice and warm in here. All it’s gonna cost you is one kiss. And don’t worry, I won’t tell Steve.”
You jut your chin out, “No. I’m not going to kiss you. You’re Steve’s best friend, you shouldn’t be acting like this anyway.”
It’s like it’s all a game to him, because Bucky just smiles wickedly, reaching out to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear. Revulsion overtakes your body, and you take another step back, blanching before giving him a pleading look.
“Acting like what? I told you, I won’t tell Steve.” He tries to grab you, but you’re quick to dodge him, “Come on, omega. It’s not like Steve’s gonna care anyways. I was there when he cheated on you. I didn’t understand it, if I had a hot piece of ass like you in my bed– I’d never do what he did.”
You bite your lip. The pain is still so fresh, the memory of Steve so nonchalantly telling you how he’d cheated on you, how he didn’t have a mark on his neck that tethered him to you. You’re crestfallen, but there’s a certain fury that awakens inside you too, because you hate how Bucky’s talking about it, you hate how he knows, you hate how he’s using it to his advantage.
“JUST SHUT UP!”
You’ve never yelled at an alpha like this before, your voice sounding over a clap of thunder that hits at that exact moment, “Shut up, okay? My relationship with Steve is none of your business. So just please, please leave me alone and let me in.” And once again you try to barge your way past him, pushing against his arm with all your strength but getting absolutely nowhere with it.
“Listen, you little bitch. Don’t fucking raise your voice at me.” Bucky is quick to grab your arm, twisting it roughly behind your back and making you cry out in pain. “And stop trying to act all high and mighty, like you’re above kissing me. You’re just a pathetic little scholarship slut omega, remember that.”
“Please! It hurts!”
“It hurts!” He mimics, face inches from yours as he sneers down at you, “When are you gonna realise that no one cares when you hurt? Least of all Steve.” His lips are so close to yours, and you can feel his breath on your face as he speaks, “So, what do you say about that kiss, hm, sweetheart? He cheated on you, now’s your chance to do the same. An eye for an eye.”
“No! I’m not going to kiss you, okay? I don’t want to!” You cry out, trying with all your might to wiggle out of his grasp until he cruelly pushes you away and you stumble down the front steps of the house.
“Fine. Suit yourself, omega slut.”
And the door slams shut again, followed by the unmistakable click of the lock. And this time, you know Bucky isn’t coming back to open it. Another clap of thunder, a ripple of lightning and now heavy rain is falling down in earnest. For a few seconds, you just watch in disbelief as the icy cold water soaks through your clothes.
Then you run up against the window, pounding on it, hoping that maybe Sam will let you in. But Sam looks like he’s passed out on the couch and dead to the world around him. And Bucky just sits there, cigarette in mouth and phone in hand, pretending as if he hasn’t just heartlessly locked you outside in the heavy rainfall.
And the rain is unforgiving, so cold as it pelts downwards. Fat droplets of icy water beating down on your head – it’s already soaked through your dress and everything from your hair to your phone is dripping wet.
Once more, you slam your fists on the door, yelling out both their names, begging and pleading to be let in. You shake and rattle the doorknob, you pound at the glass of the window, at one point you even hurl your whole body into the door to maybe break it open – but to no avail.
“Please! It’s c-cold out here!” Your voice comes out hoarse from all the pleading you’ve been doing, and you can’t tell whether it’s rainwater or tears smeared all over your face, “Please let me in! I d-don’t know what I did to you but please, just let me in!”
It’s in the middle of your hundredth ‘please’ that you finally stop, clamping your shivering mouth shut because what’s the point? All this begging, all this pleading, just in the hopes that the two worst people you know might feel sorry for you? When they never have in the past? When they’ve been awful to you every chance they got, despite the fact that you’ve been nothing but polite to them?
No. Bucky and Sam don’t deserve your begging.
You find yourself sinking down on the steps. You contemplate calling Steve, but one glance at the black screen of your phone and you know it’s either dead or the rainwater got to it.
The library was closed for maintenance, and walking to the nearest campus building would be impossible in this rain. Even your old dorm is out of the question, because Steve has the keys to it. And slowly, as the cold numbness begins to spread across your fingertips and up your arms, you feel a sudden numbness in your mind too.
This despairing feeling of no hope, cruelly snatching away any need to survive. You feel your body switch off, the feeling of deadly indifference overtaking you. You bury your head between your legs, wrapping your arms around yourself to preserve any body-heat.
Steve should be home by now... But he isn’t, he isn’t, he isn’t! The voice inside you mocks. He’s probably with that other omega…Cosy in her dorm room, probably kissing her…
You don’t know how long you sit there in the pounding rain, feeling it beat unforgivingly down your head and back. A part of you wants to drown in the rainwater, or let it wash you away and take you somewhere far. Somewhere where it isn’t so wet and so cold, where everyone isn’t so horrible.
The car headlights don’t really register in your head, and neither does the rough hand that grabs your arm a few moments later, shaking you and calling out your name repeatedly. You just keep your head in your lap, hoping and praying that the cold goes away.
“Can you hear me? What the fuck are you doing out here?” Steve demands, grabbing both your shoulders now and shaking them heftily, making you look up slowly and blink. Your vision is completely blurred, and again it’s either from the rain or your tears – you don’t know. But you see Steve’s halo of blonde hair glimmering in the rain, and the furrow of his brow.
You open your mouth but nothing comes out as Steve yanks you up to your feet, pulling you towards the door.
“Did you hear what I just asked you? What are you doing out here in the rain? Are you insane?” He has to raise his voice to be heard above the deathly patter.
“W-Wouldn’t let me in.” You mumble faintly as Steve fishes for his keys, pulling them out of his pocket and unlocking the door in record time, pushing you inside before following you.
“What?” He repeats once you’re both inside, “What did you say?”
The warmth is immediate but you feel no relief – just that same numbness from before. You’re dripping all over the floor, cold beyond belief as you look down at your ruined shoes.
“Th-They wouldn’t let me in.”
It comes out so quiet, so pitiful, so weak and resigned. Because you know he won’t care, that he’ll downplay it. But Steve’s blue eyes blaze with fury once realisation sets in. Face red and knuckles white, he turns to the living room. You must’ve been outside for a while because Sam is gone, and there’s only Bucky who sits with his feet reclined on the coffee table, casually typing away on his phone.
“What the fuck is wrong with you, asshole?” Steve roars, striding into the living room and grabbing Bucky by the collar, yanking him up to his feet.
“Hey, hey, let the fuck go of me.” Bucky’s got a glare on his face as the blond alpha slams him against the wall, “What the fuck is wrong with you?”
“Don’t act fucking stupid,” Steve sneers, “She was outside in the rain for God knows how fucking long. Look at her. She said you wouldn’t let her in.”
Bucky’s gaze shifts towards you, and you know you look like a dishevelled, soaking mess. There’s a split second where his eyes widen, and his throat bobs as he swallows. Then he blinks, that familiarly cruel smirk returning, “Oh. I guess I didn’t hear her knock.”
“Bullshit.”
“What’s going on–?” Sam chooses that moment to come thudding down the stairs. He stops short when he sees you shivering at the landing and the sizable puddle of rainwater by your feet.
“Why would you do it?” Steve slams Bucky against the wall once more, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen him this angry. Except the night he mated you.
“Relax the fuck out. It was a joke. Don’t act like you haven’t done shit like this before.”
“Don’t fucking joke with her.”
“I’ll joke with whoever the fuck I want, asshole. Just like how you used to,” Bucky sneers, “before you got yourself whipped on that omega slut.”
The look on Steve’s face is one of absolute livid fury, and he’s about to draw his fist back when–
“Steve, she looks like she’s hypothermic or something.” It’s Sam who speaks, stepping forward and swiftly coming between them. Steve glances at you before looking back at Bucky, giving the brunet one last menacing look before shoving him, then shoving Sam and making his way over to you.
“Both of you can go to hell.” He mutters, blue eyes still filled with rage as he grabs your arm. He inhales sharply, as if stung by how cold your skin feels. And ‘feel’ is a strong word because what you can’t feel is your toes, your fingers, the tip of your nose. And you can’t stop the violent, body-wracking shivers as your body fails to heat itself up.
Steve tries to pull you up the stairs, but it’s like you’re a solid block of ice – half frozen from cold and from the shock of everything that’s happened. Eventually, he just picks you up, carrying you up the stairs as you remain stiff in his arms.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you repeat the words in choked whispers till they lose meaning. And you don’t know what you’re apologising for, but you know Steve’s angry. Which means he’ll be angry at you – maybe for making him fight with his friends? Causing a huge commotion because you cried like a baby for being locked outside? Would he blame you again, tell you it’s all your fault?
Would he leave you?
“I’m s-s-sorry,” you can’t keep your teeth from chattering but you keep repeating it nonetheless, scared of what he might do, what your punishment will be, as he carries you up into his room, slamming the door shut behind him.
You risk a look up at his face. There’s still anger in his eyes as he scans over your body, the way you’re trembling in his arms, cold fingers gripping onto him tightly. And for a moment, he just stands there. Stands there in the middle of his room as if he has no idea what to do, almost as if he’s at a loss.
“You’re really cold.” It’s all he says, and then he carries you into the bathroom, easily holding you close with one arm, and manoeuvring the other to open the tap and fill the bathtub with scalding hot water. You can see the steam rising invitingly, but it’s like all hope’s been snuffed out from within you – you don’t really care about getting warm anymore.
“A-A-Are you m-mad at me?” You ask Steve quietly, but maybe it’s too quiet, or maybe you asked it in your head because he doesn’t respond. Instead, he gently puts you down on your feet, unzipping your dress and taking it off, and then your shoes and sopping wet socks too. That’s when you realise you can’t feel your toes either.
The bath is boiling hot but it only feels lukewarm against your poor, cold-stricken body. He’s filled it up till the brim, so you sit there with your chin resting on your knees and arms wrapped around your legs protectively, as if any moment he’s going to turn on you, yell at you, tell you it’s your fault. And then you expect Steve to leave, and he almost does once he turns the faucet off. But he hesitates at the doorway, as if he’s afraid to leave you alone in the bathroom.
Finally, he decides to stay, sitting down on the floor next to the bathtub, his eyes glued to you. But the anger seems to be gone (or maybe he’s hiding it?). For a long while, no one says anything. And it’s there, in Steve’s bathroom as you sit in the scalding water, that something seems to break inside of you. As if any will you may have had has been sapped out of your body, leaving just a shell behind.
Steve clears his throat, “Are you still cold?”
Silence.
“Omega. Answer me.”
You don’t. Or you can’t. He seems far away.
“Do you want me to make the water hotter?”
Why is he being nice? Is it an act? Is he trying to trick you? Why hasn’t he punished you yet? This is all your fault, isn’t it? Isn’t it?
You stare straight ahead at the tiled wall in front of you. It’s black and white marble. Minimalistic. A simple pattern.
“Is there something written on my face that makes people to treat me like crap?”
It’s you who speaks – but you almost don’t recognise it. Clear, void of any emotion and no stutter. You feel like a ghost, out of your own body and watching yourself from a corner, resigned and not caring what happens next.
And Steve seems slightly taken aback – maybe he expected you not to speak at all. Maybe he only expected you to cry like you always do. But it’s as if you’ve cried all the tears you possibly can, and your body has no more left to give. It’s like you have nothing left inside you to give.
“They shouldn’t have done that.” Steve says darkly, “I’ll make sure they don’t pull shit like that ever again.”
You blink, but don’t respond. You know in your heart that you don’t believe him – not when he picks and chooses when to defend you.
“Is there something so glaringly wrong with me, that it makes people treat me like shit? You should know if there is, because you’re the one who started it, Steve. They wouldn’t be bullying me – no one would be bullying me – if it weren’t for you.”
You feel nothing as you say it, almost as if your body’s given up on protecting you; your tongue allowing you to say things that you’ve only ever dared to think about before. You were profusely apologising to him not five minutes ago, but now it’s like you can’t stop yourself from saying what’s been festering at the back of your mind for who knows how long. But your tone isn’t accusatory, just monotonous. You focus on the pattern on the wall – black, white, black, white, black, white. One white tile has a crack in it. A small one, but it’s there.
“Why did you bully me, Steve? What did I ever do to you, except keep my head down and mind my own business? Did you hate me that much? Do they hate me that much?”
Through your peripheral, you can see him holding his head in his hands for a second. And then he looks up, does that thing where he runs his hands through his hair. Eyes squeezed shut for a second, he opens them and looks down at you, and his hand hovers in the air for a second as if to grab yours, only to snatch it back at the last second.
“I don’t hate you.”
“Why did you treat me so awful, then? And persuade everyone else to do the same?”
Silence. No answer. But it’s not like you expected any different. You fold more within yourself, hugging your knees closer to your chest and letting a huge wave of shivers overtake you.
“Can you just… Could I be alone, please?”
He doesn’t budge even an inch, and again you get the feeling like he’s scared to leave you by yourself. But it feels even more alien when his hand comes up to stroke your hair back. The omega inside you sings for his touch but for once it’s like the numbness within you is overshadowing your base omega desires. You duck away from his hand, making him freeze and snatch it back once again.
After a few beats of silence, you speak once more.
“It’s me, isn’t it? There’s something about me that people just don’t like.  No matter how hard I try, how nice I act – it always seems to come back and slap me in the face.”
Steve, his tongue always ready with cajoling words and sweet nothings, seems to have nothing to say. You’ll never figure out how to read his expressions, but his brow is furrowed and lips pressed into a thin line.
“I’ve kept quiet all my life, kept my head down, kept out of everyone’s way – but none of it works.” You meet his gaze, that forever unreadable look; “Please… Please tell me why it never works?”
“I told you; I’ll make sure they never do shit like that again. You won’t have to worry anymore; I’ll make sure they don’t even speak to you–”
“You told me once that nobody cares about me.” You pick at your nails, sounding both broken and matter-of-fact at the same time, thinking back to Bucky’s words from earlier: No one cares if you hurt. “And you’re… you’re right, Steve. No one really does, otherwise Bucky and Sam would have just let me in. And no one would’ve ever bullied me. And… And my mom would answer my texts, and…” A sudden wave of anguish washes over you, “And my dad wouldn’t have left me.”
You don’t know why you’re telling him this now, but it seems like everything’s finally connecting in your head – everyone will leave you, even Steve. The alpha sucks in his breath, and again it’s like his fingers are dancing, creeping over to grab your hand that lays limply on the rim of the bathtub. And this time, he does, squeezing tightly except you’re so emotionally numb that you can’t even feel it.
“You know he left because he wanted a boy? An alpha? You were right, he didn’t care about me, left before my first birthday.” The pain associated with the one thing you never talk about, that you never even think about, is so strong that it almost winds you, and it makes your heart hurt. “N-Now he has a new family. Two sons. He even has a daughter, but I don’t think he’d ever leave her like he left me.”
Steve’s grip on your hand tightens, and you hear this growling sound that comes from his chest. But you’re so far down this well made up of your own pain and anguish, that it’s like Steve’s almost not even there.
“I don’t think my mom ever forgave me for him leaving. And you were right when you said that she doesn’t care about me either. I don’t remember the last time she called me, or even texted to check up on me.” You look up to see him open his mouth to speak but you beat him to it, “Steve, sometimes I… sometimes I hate myself for being like this, for driving everyone away.”
Steve whips his blonde hair out of his face, suddenly sitting up straighter and eyes molten blue with new heat, shoulders squared as if he’s defensive, “Don’t say shit like that.”
“But it’s true. And I drove you away too. To that other omega.” And now fresh anguish cuts through, splicing you open like a knife, the same pain you felt the moment Steve told you he’d kissed someone else.
“You didn’t drive me away–”
“That’s what you told me. You said it was my fault. And it was, and I made you cheat on me. All my fault – that’s what you said.”
“I didn’t mean–” He grabs your face, hands rough and calloused but so familiar, as if a thousand others could touch you at the same time but his touch is the only one you could ever recognise. Face inches from yours and intense gaze boring into you, he exhales sharply, “I didn’t cheat on you, omega. I don’t think you understand what cheating means, but kissing someone is not–”
“I’m not dumb.” You interrupt, and it’s funny because you wouldn’t have dared to ever interrupt him before now. But it’s like you’re a ghost, outside of your own body and long past the point of caring. “Maybe I’m a bit naïve but I know what cheating is.” Tears would’ve been flowing down your cheeks at this point, had you any tears left to cry, “And you know the worst part? You laughed as you told me.”
Steve shuts his eyes again for a second, really scrunches them up and you can see the furrow of his brow, the clench of his jaw. But you don’t know what any of it even means – is he angry with you? Annoyed? Irritated? Do you care?
“It didn’t mean anything with her. I came home to you in the end.”
It meant everything to me! You want to yell, but instead you sink down lower into the water, wanting it to swallow you up, pull you down the drain and away from everything. But strong hands grip your forearms, jerking you back up almost immediately. You suck in your breath before turning to face him, properly face him, “You still kissed her. And you– you gloated about it; told me it was my fault. N-Now you’re gonna leave me just like my dad did. Leave me for her.”
Steve shakes his head, his knuckles white from gripping your shoulders so tightly, “I don’t even remember her face.” He lifts you out of the tub, and you don’t even struggle because what’s the point? The fight seems to have left your body completely. He places you on his lap, naked and wet and trembling, strong arms encircling around you as they’ve done a thousand times before when he’s ready to sway you with his sweet words, “Omega. Listen to me, she meant nothing to me.”
“I don’t think I mean anything to you either.” It’s both an observation and a realisation. All these weeks of trying to persuade yourself that Steve has changed, that Steve’s good to you now, that surely Steve wouldn’t treat you how he treated Sharon. It’s a delayed reaction, but now you’re sure of it. As Bucky said: no one cares if you hurt. Least of all, Steve.
“You mean everyth–” Steve cuts himself off with another deep inhale, the muscles and veins in his neck tensing, “You mean a lot to me–”
“Don’t,” You interrupt him again, “Don’t say things you don’t mean, Steve. You do it all the time and I’ll always believe it – and it’ll all be a lie because it always is.” You shake your head, looking up into his shadowed blue eyes and feeling that lurch in your heart you always feel. “I’ll always fall for your words, Steve. Because you made me fall for you.”
A surge of indescribable anger overtakes you, washing over you like a tidal wave, drenching your already wet body in confused, accusatory rage. Feebly, as if testing the waters, you shove him. It’s a slight push against his chest, but then you do it again with a little more strength. And then again. He’s so strong, so big, so well-built, that he doesn’t even budge but you push him again anyways.
“I hate you for making me fall for you, even though you treated me like dirt at the bottom of your shoe!” You cry, shoving him harder while all Steve does is stare at you with that damned unreadable expression, “I hate you for not standing up for me,” Another shove, harder this time, and then another one, “I hate you for cheating on me, for laughing while you watched me cry. I hate you for making me care so much that it felt like my whole world ended when you told me you kissed her!”
Again and again, you hit him; and every time he just lets you do it. Not even raising a hand to defend himself, just allowing your pushes, slaps, punches and shoves to slam against his shoulders and chest. And everything’s a blur to you, black and white bathroom tiles melting into the blues in Steve’s eyes, and again you shove him, harder and harder, not even knowing you had this animosity inside of you until it came pouring out.
“I hate you for bonding with me when you don’t even care about me. Hate you for making me beg you not to leave me, hate you, hate you, I hate you!” Louder and louder your voice gets, till it’s bouncing off the walls of the bathroom, and you think you see a chip in Steve’s stoic expression when he winces, and you hit him even harder. You’ve never hit anyone in your life but it’s like you can’t stop, this animalistic anger radiating off you in waves.
He catches your fists in his hands easily, as easily as he’s crushed and stomped on your trust and feelings in the past. And he pulls you into him, muscular arms wrapping around you, clutching you to his chest, holding you there while you struggle against him, shove and punch and push, until you finally stop.
“I don’t hate you,” You whisper in defeat, “I can’t hate you – no matter how hard I try, no matter how much I should. I wish I did, but I can’t.” You lower your fists, sagging against his chest in defeat, voice breaking as finally, finally, the tears begin to fall. “Can’t hate you, Steve. Not even a little bit.”
Everything’s still. You. Him. The water in the bathtub. And then:
“I won’t hurt you again.” Steve’s voice comes out oddly thick.
“You’ll leave me.”
“I won’t.”
You stare at your hands, fingers shrivelled from the water, trembling from all the screaming you’ve just done, “Don’t believe you anymore.”
Steve sucks in his breath, and you look up to see him tug at his sweater, pulling it down to expose his neck, pale yet so thick and veiny, connecting to his muscular shoulders. He tilts his head slightly, eyes dark and deathly serious, blinking rapidly with a desperation that you’ve never seen on him before.
“Mark me too.”
Your head whips up, heart skipping several beats. Desperately, you search his face for a sign that he’s joking, that he’s about to laugh in your face. It’s almost instinctive to do that now – you don’t trust him; you don’t believe him. Despite the fact that there seems to be sincerity written on his features, you can see it brimming in his eyes that glow in the dim light of the bathroom, in his lips which practically purse with anticipation.
You don’t know what to say.
“Mark me too, omega. Like how I marked you. I don’t give a fuck about anyone else; I only want you. So claim me, if it’ll make you feel better. I’ll be yours just like how you’re mine.”
You gulp. Steve’s all about grand gestures and sweet words, but could he really mean it? When he’s barely said anything this whole time you’ve poured your frustrations out to him? For a moment, a wild nano-second, the feral omega within you wants to surge forward and bite him hard, claim him how he claimed you that fateful night a month or so ago. Make him hurt how he made you hurt the night he claimed you. Make him yours, and maybe, just maybe, you’d finally be happy?
But then you wilt, like all your feelings have rushed to a standstill and taken a nosedive down to the depths of your own mind. Dark doubts, insecurities, mistrust, hopelessness – all of that seems to overtake any innate desire you have to mate him right back. Clearly, the bond you both shared meant nothing to him when he’d cheated on you. What difference could your measly bite-mark on his neck really make?
“Make me yours.” He repeats.
“You’ll never be mine.” You shrink back within yourself, like a candle that’s been snuffed out, or a balloon that’s slowly deflating.
Steve blinks as if he can’t quite believe it, and you feel a peculiar wavering in your bond. “I don’t understand,” He says slowly, “I’m giving you permission to mark me, omega. Not anyone else, just you. So do it. Mark me.”
You bow your head, shaking it slowly, “I’m tired, Steve.”
There’s a certain pull that you feel in your bond with him, a heaviness in the connection you share. You’ve never felt it before. Hurt. It’s almost as if he’s hurt. Could Steve possibly be hurt? But the feeling is fleeting, glimmering slightly before disappearing altogether, making you think you imagined it to begin with.
No more words are shared between you as he helps you to your feet, wrapping his large black towel around you before guiding you back to the bedroom. Like you’re a kicked and injured puppy who needs him. You wonder if you’ll ever not need him.
You feel nothing as he pulls his old football jersey over your head. It’s your favourite one, the one with all the holes in it that smells so much like him. His lucky jersey, he’d told you once. But even the omega inside of you has quietened down, and you still feel so numb. Numb and cold. And hopeless. Even the bed doesn’t bring you any comfort as Steve tucks you in.
He sits by your side, stroking your hair. You struggle to keep your eyes open, the dark depths of sleep tugging you in, and you wonder what fresh nightmares await inside your head. Steve leaving you? Leaving you and your unborn child? You’re already half asleep when you think you hear him speak again, in an oddly gentle tone:
“When I kissed her, I closed my eyes and pretended it was you.” A pause, as if he’s mulling whether to say his next words, “You’re all I think about – and I think about you so goddamned much, it feels like I’m going insane. I can’t even look at another girl, all I see is you.”
It’s through the throes of sleep that you answer:
“Don’t believe you, Steve. Don’t trust you. How can we raise a chil–”
But even in your half-asleep state, your voice knows to trail off. You know what you were about to say: How can we raise a child together when I don’t even trust you? But you can’t tell him about the baby, not when everything is so uncertain.
Sleep pulls you into unconsciousness. Dark and quiet, you dream of nothing.
***
The next few days feel like you’re living in some sort of limbo, with things between you and Steve quieter than a pin dropping. There seems to be change in the foreboding alpha who used to make your heart stop every time he looked at you. Now, he teeters between a range of different emotions. Like masks – quickly exchanging one for the other. Wary – as if you’re made out of glass. Apologetic – except he’s yet to actually say sorry. Cautious – as if he thinks you might do something to hurt yourself. Angry – not directly at you but it scares you anyways.
And sometimes you don’t recognise him – but did you ever truly know him to begin with? And you also don’t recognise yourself. You feel like a snuffed-out candle and you don’t know what to do with yourself. Steve’s room suddenly feel suffocating, but where else are you supposed to go?
But it’s like there’s an invisible barrier stopping you from leaving his room. The fear of running into Bucky is the biggest barrier, and so everything else comes to a standstill. Cleaning, laundry, all the little things you used to do around the house for Steve and yourself. Things you didn’t even realise had become routine until now. You barely go into the kitchen anymore, with Steve now bringing food up to his bedroom for the two of you.
Soon, your end-of-year exams finish, and looking out onto campus through your window, you can see other students packing up and leaving. Laughing and hugging their parents who show up in pick-up trucks and moving vans. Friends saying tearful goodbyes because everyone’s going home for the summer. Is that what you should do? Go home? When your mother hasn’t given you a call in more than a few months now?
One day, you’re staring listlessly out the window when you hear a knock on the door. Turning your head ever-so-slightly, your eyes meet with Sam’s.
“Steve isn’t here.”
“I know. I wanted to speak to you.” Sam steps into the room, leaving the door slightly ajar behind him. Your breath hitches in your throat, and the alpha scoffs when you get up and take a step backwards, “Relax. I’m not going to hurt you.”
It’s less a fear of Sam and more a fear of something bad inevitably happening that makes you swallow harshly. Sam isn’t as bad as Bucky but he was still awful to you, still said the meanest things to you and had done nothing when Bucky locked you out of the house. So, your body is on high-alert as you gaze warily at him now.
“Go away.” You don’t want to beg him, but you don’t have the willpower to even try to be assertive anymore. It’s not like any of the alphas in this house ever listen to you, anyways. “Just go away, okay? I have nothing to say to you.”
Sam scowls at the floor, kicking the carpet before inhaling deeply and looking up to meet your eyes. Why is he here? To ridicule you? Berate you? Laugh at you? Do you even care anymore?
“I’m sorry, okay?” He blurts out, the words tumbling out of his mouth so quickly that you’re stunned for a second, unsure if you’ve heard him correctly. Sam himself looks stunned, and you get the feeling that he’s never apologised to anyone before, let alone an omega. And nobody’s ever apologised to you before, not any of the alphas who’ve bulled you. Not Steve. And certainly not Bucky.
Sam takes a step closer to you, and this time you don’t flinch away.
“Look, I won’t pretend I’m a saint, okay? I know I’ve never been nice to you… But things went too far the other day and I’m man enough to admit that.” He’s still speaking fast, as if he wants to get it all out before he changes his mind.
Should you trust him?
“And I don’t know what the fuck came over Bucky that night,” Sam continues, shoving his hands in his pockets, “Usually he’s the nicest out of the three of us. And I was high as fuck that night, I thought he’d let you in eventually, so I just went upstairs. But whatever, I’m not making any excuses for him or myself.”
You exhale slowly, willing yourself to look up at his face, search for even an ounce of laughter, or a twitch of a smile – any hint that this is all a sick joke.
“So, consider this an apology. And you don’t have to say anything, and you don’t have to forgive me. But just know that you won’t be getting that sort of treatment from me anymore.”
Silence. Except your mind’s working in overdrive: should you trust him? Should you believe him? Did you even want to forgive him? Does this apology make up for all the verbal abuse, berating and bullying that you’ve suffered, with him being one of the main perpetrators? Did his apology even matter anymore, when the damage was already done?
You never get a chance to respond because Steve walks in at that very moment. The blond alpha freezes at the doorway, a bouquet of yellow roses clenched in his hand and a frown quickly forming on his face. His blue eyes narrow as he looks from you to Sam, who’s standing only about a foot away from you.
“Get away from her before I fucking kill you.”
There’s a flurry of movement, the yellow roses drop to the floor and it takes Steve only two strides to cross the room and stand between you and the other alpha.
Sam raises an eyebrow, “Chill out. I only came in here to–”
“Get out.” Steve is curt and seething at the same time, and for a moment it looks like Sam’s about to square up. He opens his mouth to speak before clamping it shut and shaking his head.
“I’m so fucking done with this bullshit.” Sam says under his breath before exiting the room, leaving you alone with the sound of Steve’s rapid breathing as your alpha whips around to stare you down. Your heart lurches when he grabs you by the shoulders, shaking you while those blue eyes never leave your face.
“You were gonna fuck him, weren’t you?”
Your jaw drops at how ludicrous his accusation is, how shockingly unbelievable.
“Wh-What? No, I wasn’t–”
“Don’t lie to me.” With clenched teeth and eyes that look half crazed, you see his pupils darting around as if trying to find the truth in your face. Jaw clenching and unclenching, he squeezes your shoulders and shakes you again, “Don’t think I don’t know what game you’re playing. You think you can cheat on me just because I cheated on you?”
“No–”
“You think you could ever get away with that?” Blonde hair falling over his forehead, eyes bloodshot with anger, he looks like he’s teetering at the edge of his own sanity. “You think you could just hook up with someone else as some sick form of revenge on me, do you?”
“Steve, no–”
“Where’s your phone?” Steve looks incensed, eyes scanning the room like a man possessed. Grabbing it from on top of the dresser, he goes through it quickly. Like he’s done a thousand times before, except this time it’s like he knows he’ll find something. You thank your lucky stars that you deleted the phone call with Peter from your call history – not that that counted as cheating in the slightest.
His frown grows deeper as he opens every app, scrolls through every chat, scours through your call logs. But you feel an eery since of calm – which is the opposite of Steve who looks like he’s about to explode with whatever mad anger that’s suddenly consumed him.
“Don’t you fucking think you can go behind my fucking back, you got that? Especially not with my friends, or that fucking scum beta ex of yours.” He throws your phone down on the bed, clearly having found zero evidence to back his absurd claims, but it doesn’t stop him from glowering at you.
“Listen to me very carefully, omega.” Steve scrunches your face between his thumb and fingers, his expression so intense it chills your blood. “You’re mine. I’m your alpha and I own you. That’s never going to change. If you ever cheat on me, I’ll kill him. And you too.”
He slams his lips against yours in a kiss so bruising, you feel your lips burn. And this kiss is different, you can almost taste the desperation as he moves his tongue against yours. As he holds you close to him so tightly that it hurts, and you can’t breathe, and you feel like he’s never going to let you go.
You fight the urge to kiss him back – because even now, that urge is still there. It’ll always be there. Palms press desperately against his hard chest in a bid to push him away.
“I wouldn’t do that to you!” You cry out as you pull away, “I would never deliberately hurt someone I care about, Steve. I’m not you!”
He lets go of you as suddenly as he’d grabbed you, breathing hard and still seething. And it’s almost like you’re really seeing him now. Steve, who was always so poised, so smooth as he clinically seamed his words together in the past. But now? The distant, crazed look in his eyes, the dishevelled features, hair unkempt, jaw tense, lips bitten and pursed. He’s always been beautiful but there’s an unpredictable edge to him now that maybe wasn’t there before.
Was the alpha losing control?
He backs away, fists clenched at his sides and that intense and crazed expression still on his face. You both stare at each other, it feels like your heart’s about to thud out of your chest. And then abruptly, he turns and strides out of the room, stepping over the bouquet of yellow roses that lay trampled and dejected on the ground.
***
The days all start looking the same. You’re so stationary in Steve’s room yet you feel like you’re running. Constantly running and hiding from the responsibility of the child growing inside of you. Tell him, tell alpha! He deserves to know! The omega inside of you shrieks and croons, but something’s stopping you from doing it. There’s a mountain of problems surrounding you and Steve – where would a baby fit in all of that?
The silence between the two of you grows louder as each day passes. Barely any words spoken, and a certain awkwardness that was never there before – certainly never from Steve himself. Yet despite all that, every night he holds you while you sleep. And every morning, you wake up in his warm embrace. And it’s only in those moments, in the quiet of the night with the weight of his arms around you, that you can pretend everything’s okay.
And then one day, Steve walks into the room and sits next to you on the bed. You think nothing of it, barely glancing at him before going back to examining the pattern of the duvet cover.
“Omega.” Steve says, but as usual he seems so far away. And it’s almost like you don’t have the energy to acknowledge him, even when he grabs your hand and squeezes it. It’s only when he says your name – your real name – that you look up. He barely ever calls you that.
“Have you eaten today?” He asks, a frown adorning his features when you shake your head listlessly. You’d attempted to go down to the kitchen earlier, but upon hearing Bucky’s voice you’d turned and come straight back into the bedroom, heart pitter-pattering and a sinking feeling in your chest.
He takes out a wrapped deli sandwich and a bottle of water from his gym bag. His blue eyes watch you like a hawk as you slowly take a sip of water and tear off a bit of the sandwich, chewing softly. It tastes like nothing, but you figure it’s better to just keep quiet and eat it – since you’re meant to be eating for two now anyways. And just that thought sends shivers down your spine – how long can you pretend not to acknowledge the existence of the baby growing inside of you? How long before you have to tell him?
Steve clears his throat, “Look, I know things have been…” His voice trails off as he watches you tear off tiny pieces of your sandwich, staring into your lap because you just can’t seem to look at him. He shifts around, and you feel a spark of unease in the bond you share with him.
“I got you something.” He says finally, reaching into his gym bag a second time, he takes something out and throws it into your lap.
The fur looks worn out and one ear is missing, and you can see the haphazard stitches on the teddy bear’s neck that hold it together. Not the neatest thread work, but it looks strong enough despite the head which is slightly lopsided. Coal black eyes shining bright as ever, and the same blue bow tie except now it has a few more loose threads than before.
“Steve Junior…” You breathe, running your fingers over the stuffie, and his fur feels just as soft as before. He looks so old, so worn out, pieced together and stitched so precariously but it’s him. As ridiculous as it sounds – he’s just a stuffed animal after all – but it’s him and now suddenly your mouth feels dry. You bring the stuffie up to your nose and you’re bathing in Steve’s alpha scent, so potent and rich and warm.
“It took me a while to find someone who’d fix him up.” Steve breaks the silence, scratching the back of his neck. You sneak a peek up at his face to find him scanning yours, as if gauging your reaction. “A lot of his cotton stuffing was dirty so I had to replace it. But the rest of him is all him, just as he was before. I thought of just buying you a new one, but I figured you’d appreciate this more.”
You nod slowly, stroking the top of Steve Junior’s head as if you can’t get enough of it. “You gathered up all the pieces from the kitchen floor?”
“Yes.”
It’s a monosyllabic answer, but his eyes say a lot more. At least, you think they do and you wish he’d verbalise it. Instead, with a hesitancy that was never there before, Steve slowly pulls you into his lap, holding you close against his chest, where you can feel the dull thud of his heartbeat. And you let yourself be held, feeling his alpha warmth that you haven’t felt in a while now.
Warm hands cup your face and make you look up at him. And it’s his tenderness that you can’t wrap your head around. Is this the same Steve who so vehemently accused you of cheating on him just days ago? Why was it always a different emotion with Steve? Always a different mask, as if he could switch them out so easily. What were you supposed to believe?
He kisses you like someone who’s parched, and again you feel that desperation on his lips. Before, his kisses were always so confident, self-assured, taking what he needed from you and leaving you breathless and reeling in the process. Now, he’s gentle. Handling you as if you’re made of glass. And it feels so foreign to you.
You let yourself kiss him back. Steve sighs and increases his pace, tongue swiping over your bottom lip, making you gasp before he gains entrance. His hands fall down to your hips at the same moment your arms wind around his neck. It’s frenzied movement and a blur of limbs, like two people who’ve suddenly realised they can’t get enough of each other after days of no contact.
“Fuck,” Steve mutters under his breath, squeezing your hips before his hand slips down between your legs, cupping your mound in his warm grip. You pant, jerking forward, squashing Steve Junior between both your bodies. You pull away long enough to prop your stuffie up on your pillow, making sure he’s sitting upright before Steve drags you back to him.
“You need me, don’t you?” He whispers fervently against your lips, biting and nipping while the heel of his palm grinds against your clothed pussy. “Tell me you need me.”
You do need him; you’ll always need him. It’s what terrifies you the most. But you try not to think, try to lose yourself in the feeling of his lips smattering kisses all over your jaw and moving down to your neck. He slips his hand into your panties, eliciting another gasp from you, and a jerk from your hips that can’t help but want him.
You start moving against his hand, riding it while he slips a finger inside you. Your slippery pussy swallowing his digit as if you’re starved, walls so needy that they constrict around him and you moan, grabbing at his shoulders, wanting to feel more of him. Nothing’s solved, nothing’s okay – but he’s made you so addicted to his touch that, for a second, it doesn’t even seem to matter.
His hands have snaked up your shirt, palm pressing against your belly like how he always used to do before. Except now it’s different, now it makes your eyes widen and a cold panic rise in the pit of your stomach. Again, the picture plays behind your eyes: you, alone with your baby. Dark and dreary, and Steve’s nowhere to be found. He’s gone. He’s left you. Did he kiss that other omega like this?
“STOP!”
You push hard against his chest, the force of the blow surprising both of you. You scramble off him, hands shaking and you can still feel his burning kiss on your lips, and his touch on your body too. You back away slowly, shaking your head and breathing hard.
“I can’t, I–” Your eyes dart to Steve’s face, and he’s looking up at you with what looks to be concern, as if he’s just kicked an already injured puppy. Repeatedly, you shake your head, “I’m sorry, I just… I just can’t!”
Running to the bathroom, you slam the door shut and that’s when the tears spurt out and you’re sobbing and sobbing. It seems like you’re always crying – as if the self-pity will just never end – but it’s like you can’t stop. Why couldn’t you just become okay again?
Everything is okay! The omega inside you screeches. He fixed Steve Junior! It shows he cares! Everything’s okay now!
If everything was okay, then why did nothing feel fine at all?
Staring at your reflection in the mirror, you see an omega who is weak and broken. Red eyes, bitten nails, puffy face. Hair unkempt, hands shaking pathetically, clothes crumpled. Was this the omega who was meant to keep Steve happy? Was this the omega who was going to have his baby? You cradle your stomach as rivulets of tears flow down your face.
“What are we gonna do?” You whisper softly, your sobs making your words almost indecipherable. “I don’t know what to do, I don’t know what to do, I don’t know what to do.”
You don’t hear the thud of the footsteps, only the crash of the bathroom door as it’s thrown open, Steve striding towards you and grabbing your shoulders before you have a chance to even cower.
“What’s wrong with you?” He roars, but there’s desperation in his anger as he shakes you by the shoulders.
“I don’t know!”
“What’s it going to take to get you to go back to how you were before?”
“I DON’T KNOW!”
You flinch when he draws his hand back, wondering if this is it. If he’s finally run out of whatever patience he had up until this point and now you’re in for it. You brace yourself for the inevitable blow, taking a deep breath and willing yourself to disassociate from the pain. But you only see Steve looking at you incredulously, his hand slowly curling into a fist by his side.
“I wouldn’t hit you.”
He looks almost appalled, staring down at his own fist for a handful of tense seconds, during which you can hear the sounds of your own rapid breathing and every single beat of your heart too.
“It wouldn’t matter if you did.” You say it softly, more to yourself than to him.
As if exhausted of all his options, Steve’s grip on you loosens. Blue eyes boring into yours, reflecting the helplessness that you can also detect in your bond.
“I told you to forget about it.” His hands cup your face again, thumbs swiping away your tears. “Why can’t you just forget about that night, why can’t you just let me make you happy?”
More than anything, you wish you had an answer for him.
***  
Despite talking lesser and lesser and slowly becoming strangers by day, the magnetic pull between the two of you increases at night. Where it’s dark and warm and you can pretend it’s all okay, that’s when Steve holds you and you let yourself be held by him every single night.
Which is why you wake up with a start, on the bed completely empty besides you and the newly resurrected Steve Junior.  A glance at your phone tells you it’s past midnight – so, where’s Steve? Blindly, you reach out for him – but he’s not there and, despite everything, this troubles you.
He’s left you, the dark voice at the back of your head cackles. You thought you could get away with being upset with him for this long, and now he’s left you, just like he said he would if you got out of line.
You’re not even fully awake before you’re on your feet, trying to keep your dizziness at bay. It’s another symptom of your pregnancy, another reminder of the secret you’re holding inside of you, another reminder that you need to tell someone. But right now, all you can focus on is where is Steve?
You find him on the small balcony that overlooks the back of the house. Elbows resting on the railing and blonde hair looking silver in the moonlight. He looks back as if he senses you, cigarette between his lips and a cloud of smoke surrounding him before he turns his back to you once more.
Before you can change your mind and go back to bed, you venture forward to stand beside the alpha, heart thudding as it always does whenever you’re near him. After days of his hot and cold behaviour and your own depleting moods, you realise you don’t know how to act around him or what to say. A gust of cold wind blows and you shiver, but it gives you this sudden burst of courage to speak.
“You shouldn’t smoke so much.” You blurt out. It’s the only thing you can think of to say; you’ve seen Steve smoke here and there a few times, at parties or gatherings with his friends. But never at home, in the middle of the night, with two empty beer cans rolling around by his feet.
To your surprise, Steve puts the cigarette out. Dropping it to the floor and stomping on it before turning away from you to exhale the final puff of smoke. You watch as it swirls into the night air, dissipating almost immediately.
“Sharon used to say that a lot.” He remarks, and hearing his ex’s name on his tongue feels like a punch to your gut – he’s never voluntarily mentioned her before. You turn around to leave, but his next words stop you short. “It’s funny, because I never gave a fuck about what she said. Or any of the other girls I was with.” He looks at you squarely, “I cheated on all of them too. And I never thought anything of it.”
It feels like there’s needles in your throat when you swallow, tumbling all the way down to your stomach and tearing you up from the inside out. Why is he telling you this?
“I thought it would be the same with you. You’re just an omega after all, why should I care about what you say or how you feel?” The full moon’s reflecting in his eyes, giving them an alien silver glow that makes him look like a stranger. And maybe he is a stranger, because he’s never opened up like this with you before.
“But I do.” He says it so quietly, it almost gets lost in the night air. Another gust of chilly wind has your teeth chattering, goosebumps covering your bare arms as you stand there and stare at him in only your nightgown. You don’t protest when Steve shrugs off his jacket and drapes it over your shoulders, smoothening the lapels and his fingers linger at your collarbone. For a split second, he leans closer, closing his eyes and inhaling deeply before sighing.
“I’ve hurt girls in the past and I’ve never cared. But you…” He turns back, looking over the balcony railing, and you wait a few beats, your mind silently urging him to finish his thought.
“I thought I could cheat on you and things would be fine after that. That I’d scare you into acting right and we’d just go back to how things were.” The words tumble out of his mouth quickly, as if he’s spitting them out before his ego catches up and swallows them back into his brain.
“Sharon warned me about you.” You blurt out.
His head whips around, faster than the frenzied winds that surround the two of you, “You spoke to her?”
“I–I didn’t believe her. I didn’t want to believe her because I liked you so much.”
“I know you did.” Steve cocks his head to the side, looking at you almost curiously. The stars dance in his eyes, and tufts of his blonde hair blow up with the strong wind, “How could you like me that much, despite everything?”
You don’t know what to say. How could you like him that much? Despite everything he’d done to you? Was it because the forced mating compelled you to feel things for him? No – your feelings were more complex than that. They’ve been there since the beginning, when he would bully you and you wished to God that he would like you. To after he mated you, and how you’d persuaded yourself that he’d changed, that he did like you now. To when he confessed to cheating, and your whole world broke down…
It's less of a realization and more of a fact: you like Steve a lot – more than Peter and more than your mother. Because you could live without Peter and you could even live without your mother. But you don’t think you could ever live without Steve.
When you don’t answer, Steve sucks in his breath and looks away again, “You’re pure, you know? The way you act, how good you are. And it… confuses me.”
You have to grip the railing hard to keep yourself rooted in reality – was Steve genuinely confiding in you?
“I’ve never second-guessed myself before.” He says after a long, long pause. As if he’s got a script pictured in his mind and he keeps mentally rewriting it and scratching things out. “But you… You make me second-guess everything.” It sounds like an accusation, but a resigned one; and you focus on his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows. “I shouldn’t have made you think I was going to leave you. Because I won’t. Ever. I can promise you that right now.”
You nod, tentatively taking a step towards him and he mirrors your actions, his hand reaching up to stroke your cheek. It’s instinctive when you lean into his touch, feel the rough pads of his fingers rub against the soft skin of your face. He traces your cheekbones, and he’s so gentle. You wish you could freeze this moment, because Steve’s emotions are like the changing tide. Would he be this tender tomorrow or the day after – or even two minutes from now?
“You should go back to bed.” He says abruptly, as if on cue.
Why is your heart sinking? Why do you want to stay? But you listen to him anyway, a large part of you will always listen to him, always want to be good for him. And it’s when you’re a good few steps away that you hear him clear his throat.
“Omega?”
“Yes, Steve?”
“I’m sorry. For all of it.”
A coolness spreads across your chest, like a pleasant, soothing balm that calms you from the inside out. Your heart steadies, and you feel like you can breathe again.
***
“He’s not in his room, Steve.”
“I don’t fucking care.”
“He’s our running back, we need him. Especially today.”
“Jensen can play his position. Now let’s just fucking go.”
Behind the closed door of your bedroom, you can hear Steve and Sam’s muffled voices out in the hallway. You don’t mean to eavesdrop, but the two of them seem to be growing collectively louder and louder.
The tension seems to be running high between the two of them – you’ve hardly seen them speak since the day Sam apologised to you and Steve exploded on him. But the two alphas seem even more stressed out today, with the final football match of the season against a rival college in less than a few hours.
“Jensen can’t play as good as Bucky.” Sam quips.
“Bucky’s not here.” Steve says through clenched teeth, “He’s probably out somewhere, either passed out or hungover. And we don’t have time to start a manhunt for him so let’s just go.”
The bedroom door bursts open and you freeze as Steve storms in past you. The two of you haven’t spoken since last night when he’d apologised on the balcony. Granted, he’d been busy all day prepping for the game tonight – last minute workouts and strategizing with his team. And you had about three loads of laundry to get through since you’d been neglecting things like that for the past few weeks now.
And yet the lack of contact between the two of you made you wonder whether he was already regretting his apology. Or worse – what if he was going to pretend that he never apologised at all?
If anything, Steve seems more riled up and on edge now than ever, rummaging through the already messy bedroom (you had neglected cleaning too, and it’s not like Steve himself ever cleaned). “Where the fuck is it??” He murmurs under his breath, tossing clothes out of the closet and onto the floor.
“Wh-What are you looking for?” You ask him quietly, wondering whether he can detect the awkwardness in your tone. Sure, he’d apologised – but where do the two of you stand now? In some awkward limbo between “okay” and “not okay”?
Steve sighs, stepping away from the closet and grabbing his gym bag. Slinging it over his shoulder, he makes his way over to you.
“Nothing.” He murmurs, reaching out to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear. You gulp, wanting to say something, anything. Maybe wish him luck for the game? But you’re too shy, lips feeling like they’re glued together and heart beating harder than ever. Steve opens his mouth to say something else, and then–
“STEVE, LET’S GO!” Sam bellows from downstairs.
Steve leaves without another word.
You spend the day doing all the chores you’d neglected for the past few weeks. It’s crazy to you how much of a difference two words can bring about. You’d spent the past few weeks lying listlessly in bed, feeling numbingly indifferent half the time and cripplingly stressed out for the other half. And you’re still stressed – how can you not be? Pregnant within your first year of college and you still haven’t told a soul.
But it’s somewhat easier now to make a mental list of everything – washing and drying three hampers of clothes (you wonder if you can put Steve Junior in the washing machine but after seeing the precarious stitches on his neck, you conclude that handwashing him would be safer). You also venture downstairs to clean the kitchen (and it’ll never cease to shock you, what a mess three alphas can make).
It's only when you’re deep into cleaning the bedroom that the vacuum cleaner catches on something poking out from under Steve’s side of the bed. A rectangular book with a black velvet cover – it seems unassuming enough yet it piques your curiosity anyways. Maybe because it’s got Steve’s scent all over it.
You expect blank pages – Steve’s not the type to make notes – but nothing could truly prepare you for what you actually see when you open the book.
It’s you.
Over and over again. Drawn on one page, then again on the next. You flip five pages down, and there you are again. Different renditions of you on almost every single page and the book is more than half filled up. You in pencil sketches, you in watercolour; there’s one of you with a pen in hand, clearly taking notes. Another of you sitting under a tree, drinking from a juice-box, one of you on your phone, and plenty more of you studying – always wearing your oversized hoodie.
The most recent one is of you sleeping, wearing his jersey with the holes in it and Steve Junior clutched tightly in your arms. It’s with shaky breath that you trace a trembling finger over the masterful strokes, admiring the accuracy of the teddy bear’s blue bow tie – all the way down to the loose threads! And the attention to detail is astounding – your hair, your skin, the slight furrow between your brows…
It's a lot to take in. Had Steve drawn these? He must have! You didn’t even know Steve could draw like this because never once had he done it in front of you. And how long had he had this book for? There were so many drawings – was it from before you and him got together? Carefully, you close the sketchbook and place it neatly back under the bed.
Almost as if you’re in a trance, you walk around to your own side of the bed to where your little makeshift nest is. What’s left of it anyways, since you haven’t really kept up with the upkeep and right now all it consists of is your teddy bear and Steve’s jersey with the holes in it.
His lucky jersey. Was that what he’d been looking for earlier?
Steve Junior looks at you with his coal black eyes as if conveying to you exactly what you’re thinking. Thoughts racing, you stroke his fur softly, the action reminding you of the rare occasions when Steve would fall asleep before you with his face buried in the crook of your neck. When you’d card your fingers through his hair because you were too shy to do it when he was awake.
You feel the sudden urge to do it now as you hold onto his lucky jersey. The one he was looking for. The one he probably needs right now. Right?
Grabbing your phone to check the time, you find that it’s already early evening – the game would be almost over by now. Could you possibly make it in time? Would this even be worth it?
You seem to have made up your mind before you can even begin to answer any of those questions.
***
“Let her in, that’s the quarterback’s girlfriend.”
Getting into the college stadium is easier than you thought it would be. In fact, it’s surprisingly easy, as if the universe is paving a path for you straight to Steve. You thought your significance at university was that of an ant surrounded by giants – but the guys hanging by the ticket booth recognise you immediately, one of them even offering to personally take you inside.
“You should go to the box by the front, that’s where all the girlfriends hang out.”
Never in your life have you been to a college football game before – or a football game of any variety for that matter. Feeling completely out of your depth, you put all your faith into this guy you’ve just met as he guides you through the waves and waves of people. You try your hardest to swallow down your anxiety – you hate large crowds – your nails digging into your palms while your heart races, already wondering whether coming here was a mistake.
“I’m Colin, by the way.” The guy says before pausing to look up at the gigantic scoreboard, “Uh-oh. We’re still down by a few points. That’s why I was outside, couldn’t handle the pressure – even as just a spectator.”
Down by a few points? You clutch Steve’s lucky jersey harder between your fingers, wondering what exactly you thought you’d accomplish by coming here. The game was in full swing – it’s not like you could toss the jersey into the field and hope Steve would notice and pick it up.
“I just think today’s a bad day for the team,” Colin explains, “Steve seems distracted – well, that’s what my friend Jake told me. Jake’s on the team too, but he’s usually on reserve. Except he’s playing today because Bucky didn’t show up, and if you ask me–”
Colin’s voice drowns out as your nerves go into overdrive. Slowly, after ages of weaving through a very intense and rowdy crowd, the two of you make it to a cluster of seats in the front row. A bunch of cheerleaders are standing there in a group, biting their nails with frowns and looks of concern etched on their faces – the girlfriends.
You gulp, glancing down at your own attire and knowing you’ll stick out like a sour thumb. All your new clothes that Steve had bought you were currently in the washing machine – leaving you with the one piece of clothing that you hadn’t worn in a long time. Your oversized hoodie.
Not that it matters right now.
“Well, there you go. Front row seats to all the action – although it’s looking pretty bleak right now, so I’d look away if I was you.” Colin grimaces, glancing at the scoreboard once more. “We’re down by five points and there isn’t much time left on the clock.”
You manage a tight smile, feeling like a tiny fish inside the Pacific Ocean. “Thank you for helping me, Colin.” You say softly.
“No worries.” Colin’s already walking away – clearly, he has no faith left in this game, “Oh, and please don’t tell Steve I spoke to you, okay? He’s probably going to be in a bad mood when – if – we lose this game, and he usually takes his anger out on Jake or me, and this’ll just make it worse, and–”
And then he’s gone, and you make your way past the cluster of cheerleaders, whispering out a soft “excuse me” every time you make eye contact with one of them. They all look you up and down, but thankfully don’t say anything as you walk over to the front, where you now have a clear view of the field.
Steve’s got his team in a huddle, yelling out instructions that you can’t hear. He’s in his blue jersey with his helmet under his arm, blonde hair fluffy and messy and his face pale yet flushed at the same time. And he does look stressed and distracted just how Colin had said. Would he be angry if his team lost? Would he be mad at you for coming? With Steve, one never really knew what to expect, and you suddenly feel extremely foolish, standing here in your ill-fitted hoodie with a jersey full of holes in your hands.
All the players take their positions for the final few minutes of the game. From your limited understanding of football, you can tell that the stakes are very high. The girl next to you can’t stop biting her nails and clutching onto her friend’s arm.
Your eyes are trained on Steve, focused only on him despite the fact that there’s ten other players wearing the same blue jersey and helmet as him. That’s when you feel the mark on your neck suddenly prickle, and Steve’s heard jerks up at that exact moment as if on cue, turning back to look directly at you.
His face is obscured by his helmet, but it makes your breath catch in your throat all the same. Like it did every time he’d strut into the lecture hall, every time you’d see him in the hallways, and those times when he’d show up to your dorm room. He’s yards away from you, but you shoot him a small smile – it’s the first time you’ve smiled at him in a long time now and you wonder if he can even see it.
The whistle blows and there’s a flurry of movement. For a handful of seconds which feel like ages, you don’t even know where the ball is. Everything’s moving so fast, and a glance up at the gigantic timer shows you there’s barely any time left. But the seconds feel like hours, the anticipation growing high not only within you but in the crowd around you. You lean forward over the rails, eyes scanning the field and you see a blur of blue with a handful of players chasing behind it.
You don’t think you’ve ever seen Steve run so fast, yard after yard, as if he’s racing against the clock – which he is. And then his teammate – all the way from the other end – heaves the ball downfield. You see it soaring in the air, so quick that it’s easy to miss. And there’s mere seconds left on the clock, and there’s about four defenders surrounding Steve but he’s gotten past the goal line, and he jumps up, and –
There’s a split second of silence before the stadium erupts in cheers. You realise you’d been holding your breath, and you blink several times before you see the ball in Steve’s hands, hoisted up high. And he’s cleared the goal line, and his teammates are charging at him, whooping in the air.
“I can’t believe it!” The cheerleader next to you screeches in glee, grabbing her friend as they both jump up and down, “A touchdown! We won!”
And sure enough, the huge screen at the front flashes “touchdown!” in huge block letters, and everyone seems to be beside themselves. You exhale in relief, the cheerleaders’ infectious excitement rubbing off on you as you can’t help but smile. Steve is swarmed by his team, and they lift him up. And now you can see him more clearly, see when his eyes zero in on you.
On the shoulders of his teammates, but he’s looking directly at you. You want to give him a little wave but you feel too shy, and you wonder whether you should leave now since he’d obviously want to celebrate with his team. But, as if he somehow senses your intentions, it takes Steve about a millisecond to get back down on the ground, and then he breaks into a run – straight towards you!
You grip onto the railing in anticipation, and Steve crosses the distance in almost record time. There are people in the crowd who’ve invaded the pitch, congratulating his teammates and staring after him as he makes a beeline towards you. Wide-eyed, you stare as he gets closer and closer, his cheeks flushed pink and chest puffed out as he comes to a stop in front of you.
“You’re here.” He says, slightly out of breath.
“Y-Yeah, you’re uh–” You’re suddenly at a loss for words, but you hold up his lucky jersey as if that’s a sufficient enough explanation. Clearing your throat, you add: “Congratulations, Steve. You played really well.”
He stares at you for a moment, and then before you know what’s happening, his hands wrap around your hips, lifting you up over the barrier and into his arms. You squeak, arms instinctively winding around his neck and your legs wrap around his waist.
He kisses you, and there’s an explosion of summer sunshine behind your eyes and all around you. The scent of firewood and an intense summer day interweaves through all your senses – all you can taste, smell, breathe is him. And it’s you who pulls him closer, returning his kiss with double the enthusiasm, your lips working against his as if you’re willingly ready to be consumed in him.
Steve draws back, only to kiss you again. One peck, another peck, and then one of his hands slips up and cups your cheek, pulling your face even closer as his tongue probes against yours and he sucks sweetly on your bottom lip, leaving you breathless yet wanting even more when he suddenly pulls away.
“I love you.”
The words seem to burst out of him – and it seems like both of you stop breathing as soon as he says it. As if you’re both encased in this bubble and the people around you don’t matter and those three words are bouncing around the confines of this bubble, echoing and growing louder, embracing you like a hug.
And your whole world stops. There are hundreds of people around you but they all seem to freeze in place, and you can hear your heart thumping to the same beat as his. And his eyes are clear blue and earnest, and you can see your reflection in them. Shocked, surprised, caught off guard yet every cell in your body rapidly filling up with hope.
“Don’t say that…” You breathe, “D-Don’t say things you don’t mean.” Or else I’ll believe you.
“I mean it.” Steve presses his forehead against yours, gripping you so tightly that you feel like you can’t breathe – but in a good way. “I mean it, omega. I’m in love with you.”
He savours each word as he says it, and you feel this hot and cold feeling – rushes of it – throughout your body. Sparks in the pit of your tummy like tiny butterflies fluttering excitably, or firecrackers ready to erupt in a shower of what feels like pure happiness. You feel light, like you could float forever as his words keep repeating inside your head like a song.
Up until this moment, you’ve second-guessed almost every single word he’s said to you. But why aren’t you second-guessing this? Why is your whole body trusting and believing him, erupting in elation as he holds you close? He loves you. Steve loves you! Love! You don’t think anyone’s ever told you they’ve loved you before. Or made you feel this strange feeling; this heady mixture of wanting to laugh and wanting to cry, of feeling so overwhelmed and yet so at home, and, and and–
“Steve, I’m pregnant.”
The words leave your mouth before you can stop them. And maybe you don’t want to stop them anymore, because the relief you feel is almost instantaneous.
And Steve stares at you for the longest time, and you focus on the rise and fall of his chest as he breathes rapidly, pink lips parted slightly as if he can’t believe what he’s hearing. For one horrific second, you think he’s going to drop you and leave, and take his “I love you” back and tell you it’s over. But he holds you even tighter, and you realise you’re moving as he walks the two of you to a door off to the side, leading to the changing rooms.
Once inside, he sets you down gently on your feet and pins you against the wall, trapping you against his considerably larger frame, looking down at you with an almost foreign look on his face, as if he can’t quite grasp what you’re saying.
“You’re pregnant?” He repeats.
“Yes, I am.”
“Pregnant.” Steve says it again, more to himself than to you, cupping your face, his thumbs stroking your cheekbones lightly. “My omega. Pregnant.”
“Yes.” The more you confirm it and the more he says it, the realer it seems. But it’s crazy how much less scary the prospect of pregnancy sounds when the word is coming out of his mouth. “I took three tests; they all came out positive. My period never came–”
His lips press against yours in a heady kiss that leaves you reeling, and he’s holding you so tightly that you feel light-headed. “My girl carrying my baby, just like I said you would.” Steve whispers against your lips. A smile breaks out across his face, “Baby, you’ve made me so proud.”
Proud. He’s proud. Proud of you.  
He gets down on his knees in front of you, your breath catching in your throat because he’s so big. Even on his knees, his face is level with your chest. His hands, so big and warm, trail softly down your figure – the gentlest he’s ever been. Fingers splayed out and stroking carefully over your stomach, he lifts your hoodie up and presses his face against your soft, exposed skin.
“You’re so tiny,” he breathes, almost in wonder. “So little… How’re you gonna carry my baby inside you when you’re so little?”
Your chest rises as you inhale deeply, a soft whisper of “I don’t know…” leaving your mouth.
Butterfly-light kisses trail up and down your stomach, his lips dragging against your skin, tongue peeking out to lick, nip and suck at your belly – as if he wants to devour you. You get the strong urge to card your fingers through his hair, but you’re so shy that you hesitate, jerking forward instead when the tip of his tongue probes inside your belly button.
Steve looks up, the wonder in his eyes now replaced with a familiar, devilish sparkle.
“I always knew I’d knock you up before the year was over.” He boasts cockily, one hand still firmly stroking your stomach like he’s grown addicted to the feeling. “Didn’t I say it from day one? That I was gonna fuck my baby into you? And now look at you, knocked up like the good, dutiful omega I knew you’d be under my wing.”
He sounds how he did before, the same cocky Steve. But there’s an underlying lightness to his words, this infectious excitement that’s so different from your own cold fear of being pregnant.
“You don’t think it’s too soon, Steve? I mean, I don’t think I’m ready–”
“You’re ready.” He interrupts you, words spoken between kisses against your stomach – it seems like he can’t refrain from kissing you there – “It’s an omega’s duty to have her alpha’s babies, and didn’t I say I’ve got a plan? You, me, and my baby – it’s all coming together now.”
“B-But what about college? You’re graduating now but I’ve still got two more years left, and–”
“You don’t have to worry about any of that anymore.” Steve cuts you off again, standing up to his full height so you have to crane your neck to look up at him. With his shoulder pads on, he looks even bigger than usual, “Didn’t I say I’d take care of you?”
Your concerns are swallowed up by his kiss, and his hand slips down to hook under your thighs. He picks you up easily, and he’s so strong; he only needs one arm to carry you, his other hand cupping your face and pulling you in for another kiss – as if he can’t seem to get enough.
“Poor little baby omega,” He coos, laying you down on a nearby bench and climbing on top of you. You can hear the roar of the crowd close by, everyone celebrating this monumental win for the football team. You know for a fact there are people milling about near you. Steve is undeterred, however, kissing down your neck as he pushes your hoodie up to expose your chest.
“You must’ve been so stressed, huh baby?” More kisses as he unclasps your bra and pulls it off hastily, throwing it somewhere behind him as his eyes zero in on your bare breasts.
“Y-Yeah, I was.” You can’t help but sniffle, sounding small and pathetic but you can’t help it. Telling Steve about the baby feels like a huge weight has been lifted off your shoulders, the agonising stress inside your head easing bit by bit as Steve’s large hands squeeze and grope your tits roughly.
“Don’t worry, sweet girl. You don’t have to worry about anything anymore. I know your little brain is tired from thinking so much, now you just leave all the thinking to daddy, okay? All you have to focus on is being a mommy.” He buries his face in your breasts, nuzzling and inhaling your soft skin, squeezing and pushing your tits together till they hurt while you whimper beneath him.
“St-Steve, someone might – ah! – someone might see us!”
“Shhh, didn’t I just tell you not to worry about anything?” He takes your hoodie off completely, and now you’re topless and completely at your alpha’s mercy. He grins wolfishly down at you, “Now, did you know that pregnant baby omegas like yourself are meant to feed their alphas too?”
Your eyes pop open, “Wh-What?”
Steve smirks, palming your tits roughly before rubbing one of your stiff nipples between his thumb and forefinger. You’re half enamoured by the thrill of it, and half paranoid that someone’s going to walk in and see all this, but Steve doesn’t seem to care.
“You didn’t know that you’re meant to feed daddy too? God, you really are a baby, aren’t you?” He pinches your nipple before his tongue peaks out and licks around it, making it even more erect. “All pregnant omegas have to let their alphas have a taste of their milk.”
“I haven’t – ah! – I haven’t read about that anywhere!” You try not to moan.
“That’s because you’re just a baby,” Steve coos before encasing your nipple in his mouth and giving suckling on it not so gently. And the action sends thrills straight down to your core, making you gasp breathlessly and clutch onto his broad shoulders. He releases your nipple with a pop, “Now omega, are you gonna let daddy drink your little mommy milk?”
You squirm, “Y-Yes?”
He twists your nipple roughly, “Say it, then.”
“Y-Yes, you can drink it.”
Another pinch. “Say it properly.”
“Yes, you can drink my mommy milk!” You cry out.
Steve smiles, pulling your cheek condescendingly, “Good girl. Not that I would need your permission, since you’re mine after all.” He gives your nipple a feather-light kiss before encasing it between his lips again, teeth grazing against the sensitive bud.
“And address me properly, or I’ll call the whole football team and make them watch while I fuck you.” You can feel him harden at the thought, “I’ll show them exactly how I knocked you up in the first place.”
“Daddy…” you whine, “N-Not in front of anyone, please!”
Steve licks his lips as his eyes drink you in, like a carnal wolf admiring his prey. His gaze focuses on between your legs, his hangs grabbing at your thighs and spreading them apart. Lewdly, he cups your mound and you automatically buck your hips upwards, making him smirk at your neediness. Grinding the heel of his palm against your clothed pussy, you want to hide your face in embarrassment when you see the wet patch forming on your leggings.
“You’re going to be so much hornier now that you’re pregnant,” He breathes, looking at the wet spot between your legs as if he’s entranced. Suddenly, he strikes you; palm slapping against your clothed pussy while his other hand holds your legs apart. You gasp, sparks of pleasure flaring up inside you as he repeatedly slaps your clothed cunt.
“Tell me, baby omega. Who knocked you up?”
“Y-You did!” You cry out desperately, trying to clamber upwards to grab at his shoulders except he easily pins you back down. His head dips down too, straight between your legs till he’s face to face with your pussy. And you wish to God your leggings and panties weren’t in the way, but Steve doesn’t seem to care. His tongue peaks out past his pink lips, licking a stripe up your covered cunt, and you convulse, “Oh fuck!”
“Tell me how you got knocked up, baby.” Steve speaks against your pussy, and you can feel his hot breath through the thin material of your leggings. He lets out a hum before he takes the material between his lips, sucking at the wet spot and making you throb down there, “Tell me how I filled up your little baby cunt and fucked my baby into you.”
You hesitate, and earn a harsh slap to your ass that has you hissing in pain. “Say it!”
“Y-You filled up my baby cunt and knocked me up!” You cry out desperately, rubbing your pussy against his face as he continues to suck your leggings, his nose grazing against your covered folds and making you want him so badly, it hurts. “Daddy – ah! – y-you fucked your baby into me, okay? P-Please!”
It’s insane how quickly he renders you to be delirious, but after weeks of not being intimate with him, it’s like this is exactly what you need. The depravity, the filth, the fear that just about anyone could walk in at any moment. And it’s also the pride you see in his face – alpha is proud of you for getting pregnant, and that just makes you want him even more.
“You’re just a tiny little baby,” Steve sits back up, looking down at you as if you’re some ravishing creature and not just a desperate omega practically humping against him, face contorted in need for her alpha. “How’re you growing my baby inside of you, when you’re a little fucking baby yourself, huh? Daddy’s little baby.”
He peels your leggings off, leaving you in just your panties in the changing rooms where anyone could walk in at any moment. Pressing kisses against your inner thighs, getting closer and closer to your core, and you’re wiggling underneath him, thrusting up into air because you’re so needy for him.
“I’m gonna take such good care of you, baby.” He breathes, sinking down to his knees on the side of the bench and grabbing your calves to pull you to the edge of it. His face between your thighs now, you can feel his hot breath against your panty-covered core. “Gonna keep you so happy. My little wife… I’ll give you everything you deserve.”
Your heart lurches at the word “wife.” He’s never referred to you as that before, but you don’t have the time to mull upon it when Steve’s teeth enclose around your wet panties, pulling them and letting the elastic stretch before he lets go and it snaps back against your pussy, making you whimper softly. He grins, taking the sodden fabric into his mouth again, this time sucking all your slick from the material while your eyes pop at the sight, pussy clenching around air.
“I love you, baby. You’ve made me so happy today. I want to make you happy too.” His voice is dripping with sweetness – and usually you’d be questioning: is he being sincere? Does he mean it? Should I trust him? But just hearing him say it, hearing him say “I love you,” it’s like it makes you stop thinking straight, makes you not want to question him, makes you want to believe him because what do you truly have left if you don’t believe him?
And maybe – just maybe – he does mean it.
“The mother of my child,” Steve coos, blowing cool air on your hot core, and your slick is dripping down to pool underneath you on the bench as he continues to finger the material of your panties, “Aren’t you happy that you’re pregnant, baby? Aren’t you happy that you made daddy so proud?”
You bite your lip, “H-Honestly, I’m scared– ah! – I’m too young, we’re both too young. There’re so many things we have to think about and consider, and– oh! Oh my God!”
Steve chooses that moment to rip your panties in half and dip his head down, pushing back the hood of your clit and encasing the throbbing button between his lips. He sucks down hard, and you automatically raise your hips to grind up against his face, leaving it glistening with streaks of your wetness. His hand lands an open-palmed slap against your bare pussy, the sound so lewd and wet as it echoes across the changing room.
“I asked you if you’re happy for making me proud.”
You gulp, hands reaching down to grab at his blonde tufts – something you’d been itching to do all day. Slowly, you nod your head. “Y-Yeah.” You whisper, “A-Always wanna make you proud.”
“Good girl. That’s what I thought.” He goes back to your clit, spitting down on it. His saliva pools around your button and he uses his thumb to spread it, circling and rubbing it around and around till you can’t take the intensity, and hump up against his hand. “I already told you not to think about anything else, except being a mommy and making me proud.”
Steve lifts your thighs up and props them over his shoulders, and your ankles automatically lock around him, encasing his head between your legs so he’s face to face with your core. And that’s when you feel his tongue, hard and pointed, flick against your clit, once, twice, three times till you’re crying out his name, your thighs already thrashing except his tight grip keeps them pinned to his shoulders.
“Look at your little button, all swollen up and cute.” Steve spits once more, his saliva trailing down your mound to pool around your clit once more. “You missed having your daddy make you feel good, didn’t you?”
“I…I, uh – Ow!” You gasp when he slaps your ass, the sound resonating across the room and you wonder why no one has walked in yet.
“I wasn’t asking you; I was asking her.” Steve licks his lips, looking straight at your glistening folds and using his pointed finger to swipe up and down your wetness. “Look at your little baby pussy, she’s crying because she’s so happy that daddy’s here to take care of her again.” And that’s all it takes for him to bury his face in your wetness once more, enveloping your sensitive folds between his lips and suctioning harshly.
“Mm, fuck, daddy!” You whimper softly, and he reaches up to squeeze your breast possessively.
Licking and sucking his way back up to your clit, his teeth graze against your swollen bundle of nerves, making you throb like crazy as the sparks begin to build up. “So fuckin’ puffy, just for daddy, huh?” He questions, and you gasp out in agreement, your movements getting needier and more desperate as you begin to hump into his face in earnest, your fists tightening around his hair as you practically smear your pussy over his face, feeling his tongue, his teeth, his lips, his nose, even the light stubble he’s starting to grow out – all of it creating delicious friction against you.
Your body is rocked by so many different sensations: he’s practically making out with your pussy as his mouth suctions over it, lapping at your wetness like he’s starved. His tongue, so hard and pointed, fucks into your hole, his nose grazing against your clit before he licks a flat stripe up from your fuckhole up your slit, ending with a hearty suck up on your clit before biting down on the bundle of nerves not so lightly.
“That’s right, baby. My horny fuckin’ little omega, rub your baby cunt on daddy’s face, use me to make yourself cum. Fuck! I said rub yourself on my fucking face! Harder, before I change my mind.” Steve’s teetering between nice and mean, and the heady mix of both makes you scream out and clutch his hair harder, his voice muffled and sending vibrations against your clit. “Hump on daddy’s face, baby, c’mon. Make yourself feel good, show daddy how much you missed me.”
Your orgasm is doubly intense, and for the second time in your life, your juices squirt out, streaming all over Steve’s face and coating him in your slick. And, like a man starved, he wastes no time in swiping his cheek and sucking his finger, his eyes training on your pulsating pussy as you clench and release, over and over again, thighs tightening around his face as you cry out, “Oh! Oh my, d-daddy!”
“Good baby,” He praises you, prying your legs off his shoulders, “Doesn’t it feel so good to just switch off and let your daddy do all the thinking?”
Hands and legs limp like jelly and every thought and worry slowly leaving your mind, you manage to sniffle out a soft yet ashamedly honest, “Y-Yeah.”
You’re completely limp in his arms as he picks you up by the waist, sitting down on the bench and setting you down on his lap, your back against his chest. But not before undoing his fly and pulling his dick out. It looks angry and red and somehow bigger than ever – as if it’s about to explode. You gulp – it’s been so long since he’s been inside you. Would he still fit?
Like a steel rod, his cock pokes out from between his legs, resting pretty between your own thighs that are parted by his hands. Your wetness has spread all the way from your folds to down your legs, and it’s mildly embarrassing just how needy you are for him at this moment. So needy, in fact, that you surprise yourself – your hands grabbing at his dick as if the omega inside you just can’t help it.
“Fuck,” Steve hisses, covering your hand with his own, “Look at your tiny baby hands on my daddy dick.” His tongue is lapping and sucking at his mark on your neck – his favourite spot – but his eyes are locked on the scene in front of him – you palming his dick almost hesitantly, as if you’re scared of it yet want it badly at the same time – which you do.
You swallow harshly, “P-Please.”
“Please what, sweet girl?”
You duck your head, too shy to voice your desire but his hand grips your chin and makes you look up, twisting your head back slightly so he can look into your eyes.
“Tell me what you want, baby.” Steve says softly, beguilingly with blue eyes sparkling, “I already told you I’ll give you whatever you want – you just have to tell me.”
You surge upwards to kiss him, suddenly remembering how he’d rejected your kisses the last time the two of you had had sex. But this time, he captures your lips with his, ravenously making out with you and his tongue dominates yours, licking up every crevice of your mouth like it’s his job to kiss you. Till you can’t breathe and yet you still don’t want to pull away, and it’s him who finally does.
“Or we could just sit here, and I could feel you.” Steve muses, hand gliding his dick back and forth against the soft skin of your thighs before slapping it against your pussy. You gasp and convulse, and he only chuckles as he repeats the action, and you can’t help but close your legs around his dick, as if forcing him to put it inside you.
“Alpha please!” You mewl softly.
“I guess your pregnancy hormones have made you even needier now, huh omega?” He snickers, using his hand to guide yours up and down his dick, making you jack him off. And you can feel every ridge, every vein of his thick dick as it pulses under your hand. And the omega inside you is feral, you want him so badly it’s unreal. All these weeks of no intimacy have you starved in a different way – because being mated to him means always wanting him, always yearning for him, and having no willpower against his charms.
It's with burning cheeks and tears of need welling in your eyes that you utter: “P-Please, alpha! N-Need you inside me, your knot… So bad. So bad!”
“Why? You’re already knocked up.” He’s tracing the tip of his dick against your clit, holding you down as you thrash on his lap. And you don’t understand his willpower – did he not want you as badly as you wanted him? But he continues to slap and stroke his dick against your folds, coating his length in your cream, grabbing you by the hips and grazing you on top of it, physically grinding you against his hard dick yet not putting it inside you.
“Aww, poor baby. Look at your cute little baby cunt, all drippy and leaking all over daddy. You still want my dick, baby? Still want my knot even if you’re already pregnant?”
“Yes! Yes, please!” You want to tell him not to tease you, but you know that he’s your alpha and you can’t really tell him what to do. You know you’re already submissive by nature but in his arms right now, you feel like you’re completely at his mercy, like you’d do anything for him. “N-Need you, daddy. So bad. Just… Just gotta feel you inside… P-Please!”
Steve swears, grabbing the base of his dick and lining it up against your leaking pussy. But he has to lift you up by the hips and slam you back down to get his fat, bulbous tip to finally breach your tiny hole. And oh my God – was it possible that he felt even bigger than ever before? He’s barely halfway inside you and you feel stuffed to the brim already, slippery walls convulsing and crying around his fat cock as it penetrates into you.
“What a tight fuckin’ baby cunt,” Steve grits out, squeezing your tits till it hurts, “God, fuck! Never had a pussy this tight before, baby. It’s like you were made for me.”
He’s so big, it almost feels like it’s the first time – how could you ever have gotten used to such a huge dick? And he’s big everywhere: his muscular legs which hold your entire body weight, his thick arms that hold your thrashing limbs at bay. All six foot six inches of him dwarf you completely. You feel so light, so fragile, so tiny on top of him, his dick slowly going deeper and deeper inside of you, practically ripping you in two.
“S-So big, daddy…” You moan, because it hurts yet it hurts so good, and you love the delicious friction you feel.
“Can’t even go all the way inside you, baby.” Steve say softly, as if he himself is surprised by his own girth and by how small you are. “Fuck, you’re tinier than I remember. Guess I’m too big for you. Your cute little baby cunt can’t take me in, omega.”
“Please! F-Force it in.” Something carnal takes over you then, and you’re surprised by your own words; they sound so desperate, so lust-ridden and unabashed – like you’d die if he isn’t fully inside you.
And Steve growls, pushing out of you and picking you up – and he only needs one arm to do it – before forcibly turning you around so that you’re chest to chest with him. He forces you back down on his dick, and it’s so hard and imposing as it pierces into you, and you can’t help but clamber closer to Steve, both of you gasping against each other’s lips when he finally fills you up till the hilt, and the pain is so deliciously excruciating, you feel like you’ll break in half.
“I think I may have broke your pussy, baby.” He whispers, as you marvel at how much of a tight fit it is, his dick so snugly inside you, stretching out your walls as far as they’ll go around his fat girth. You truly do feel broken, but in the best way, and you wrap your arms around his neck, wanting to be closer.
“D-Don’t care, alpha.” You don’t know what’s suddenly come over you, maybe it’s the fact that he told you he loves you, maybe it’s because you haven’t had sex with him for weeks, maybe it’s because you’ve finally told him you’re pregnant and he’s proud of you, he’s promised to take care of you. Or maybe it’s something else altogether, but your desire for him has never been this high, this intense. Even Steve looks surprised.
Slowly, he starts bouncing you up and down on his dick. And you don’t have to do any work, just sit there and let him manoeuvre you, let him control your movements like a puppeteer, like how he controls every other aspect of your life. And maybe it’s time to admit that you like it that way, maybe it’s time to stop fighting with the omega inside you. Maybe this, here with him, is where you belong.
“You like me splitting you open like this, don’t you?” He whispers against your lips, capturing them in a searing kiss that has you grabbing his face and pulling him closer. Wanting to touch him and smell him and feel him and hold him and everything in between. His dick is hitting that special spot inside of you, making you cry out with every thrust, not caring that you’re being loud and this is a public place and anyone could walk in.
“I love you so much, baby.” And there it is again, those three words once again, penetrating into your heart and tattooing themselves upon it. His hand suddenly grabs yours, holding it close and pressing kisses all over your palm and fingers – and you’re reminded of the night where you’d begged him not to leave you, and how you’d done the same thing.
“I’m never letting you go, omega.” Steve speaks between kisses, all the while his hips are a blur as they move up and down, thrusting inside you like he wants to keep the two of you connected forever. “I’m gonna make you my housewife, keep you locked up and safe so no one can ever hurt you or my baby. I’m gonna take care of you, both of you.”
And you’re nodding feverishly, whispering “okay” over and over again, grinding down to meet his thrusts, biting your lip in bliss when his hand snakes down to where you two meet, his fingers deftly rubbing your clit, heightening your pleasure as his cock continues to tear you in half.
“My omega, all mine,” He growls, balls smacking against your skin as he fucks into you, your poor fuckhole so used and abused yet you don’t even care as you drip all over him, the pleasure growing steadily inside you, coils tightening as he fucks you like only he ever could. “Won’t let anyone else touch you, speak to you, even look at you anymore. You’re my property – my little wife knocked up with my kid. Won’t let anything come between us, not again.”
Through your delirium, you manage to lock eyes with him, clutching at him desperately, and your words come out so softly, and you feel so small when you ask him, “Y-Y-You promise?”
He stalls for a second, just a second, before his thrusts resume, hitting deeper if that’s even possible. He cups your face with his warm hand, and you can smell his heady, musky scent that you’re so addicted to. His eyes sparkle earnestly, like twin blue oceans that you could drown in except the experience would be pleasant. He leans close to you, so close; “I promise, omega.”
You cum so hard, you feel like you’re going to pass out, your walls constricting around his dick, squeezing it so hard while he continues to thrust up into you. You can feel your cream leaking down his dick, staining his uniform but it’s like you can’t stop squirting around him, your slick squeezing out of your worn-out pussy as it pulsates around his hard cock.
“Steve, oh my God, oh my God, fuck!” You cry out in complete abandon, clutching onto his biceps, your nails digging through the material of his jersey.
“That’s right baby, cum on daddy’s dick like the good little girl you are,” He coaxes you, rubbing your bare back almost soothingly, while his fat dick continues to pierce in and out of you at an inhumane pace – as if he’s savouring being inside you, as if he never wants to stop. “Squeeze my fucking dick, omega. Fuck, I’m gonna keep you pregnant forever, baby. Tell me you want that; tell me you want all my fucking babies.”
“W-Want your babies!” You cry out obediently, your body jelly on top of his, limbs twitching as the rushes of pleasure flush through your body. He’s using you like a fuckdoll now, an iron grip on your hips as he pounds into you as if he can’t get enough. His mouth latches onto your mark, licking and sucking possessively, and you think you might pass out from the pleasure – and he still wouldn’t stop.
You feel his dick twitch inside you, and he’s still fucking you through his own release, his seed so hot as it pours into you. Spurting hot cum, coating your insides like he’s trying to brand you, and he grips firmly onto your hair, pulling your face to his and kissing you roughly. “I love you, baby.” He whispers soft as a feather against your lips, and you don’t think you’ll ever get tired of hearing him say it, as you grind down, his thick ropes of cum mingling with your own slick, and he’s still pumping out more. As if his load is so heavy and he won’t stop until you’re completely filled up.
“Marry me.”
For the second time today, he renders you completely speechless. Third time, if you count your reaction to his book of sketches. Cupping both your cheeks and making you look at him and only him, and you don’t know what to think. First ‘I love you’ and now ‘marry me’? The alarm bells are chiming softly in the rational part of your mind – because isn’t all of this happening too fast, too suddenly, too soon?
“Marry me, omega.” Steve repeats, “Let me take you home. To Brooklyn. I’ll take care of you, give you a real home, I’ll make you so happy. And you can leave this place behind.”
Leave it behind? What did he mean by that? Your degree? There’re so many questions on your mind: Is he being serious? Does he mean it? Why is all of this coming out now? Should you believe him, believe his promises – when your own trust in him has come back to slap you in the face multiple times in the past? And what if this is all some cruel practical joke? What about your education, your scholarship? What about your mother? What about… what about… what about–
But it’s like your mind is working in overdrive to forcibly push all those thoughts out, and replace them with how he’d told you he loved you. How he’d apologised to you last night. All the sketches he made of you – those weren’t a joke, were they? They couldn’t be.
Time to surrender, the omega inside of you is beguiling as ever; time to be happy…
“Okay.” You whisper.
He breaks into a smile, like he knows you could never say no to him, and presses kisses all over your face.
There’s a quiet calm as he picks you up, taking you to the nearby bathroom and helping you clean up. You thought your head would be a screaming mess of emotions, but your thoughts are eerily quiet as you let him clean and redress you. Maybe this was all meant to be, and this is where you belonged. Maybe he meant it this time – maybe he’d take care of you and keep you happy forever. And you have the baby to think about too – maybe this was best for the baby.
He carries you back out of the bathroom, only setting you down on your feet when he’s opening the exit doors to get back out onto the field. And even then, he holds your hand tightly – so tightly, as if you’re a kite that might fly away.
Outside, everyone is still celebrating – almost as if the two of you never left. You can see Sam and the rest of the football team popping open cans of beer and pouring it all down their fronts, or shaking hands with different people, or kissing their own girlfriends. Instinctively, Steve’s grip on your hand tightens even more.
“Hey, Cap! We’re taking a team picture with the trophy. C’mon!” One of his teammates calls out before the whole team begins to assemble themselves into haphazard rows while the professional photographer tries to guide them.
You feel Steve hesitating before letting go of you, grabbing your shoulders instead.
“Don’t move, omega. I’ll be right back.”
You nod, smiling softly, “Okay, Steve. I’m right here.”
It’s like he’s searching your face for something, and you wish to God you knew what because you’d show it to him in a heartbeat. But then his face softens, he grabs the back of your neck and pulls you close, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. And then he jogs away, joining his friends and being greeted with hoots and cheers and high-fives and chants of his name. He looks like a king on top of his world, standing up front and centre. Someone thrusts the gigantic trophy in his hand, and he holds it up proudly, smiling cockily at the camera.
You take it all in, feeling a mix of emotions ranging from pride for him as well as a certain sense of imposter syndrome. He’s a king and you’re an ant – but he loves you. He told you so, he told you so, he told you so–
“HEY!”
The repeated calling of your name doesn’t register to you until it’s right up against your ear, and you feel someone grip your wrist roughly, tugging you back. You turn around in alarm, mouth dropping open when you see who it is.
“Peter! What are you doing here?”
Peter looks dishevelled, out of breath as if he’s been running around all day. His spiky hair is longer than how you remember it, with brown locks tumbling down his forehead. His cheeks are flushed and eyes bright, the remnants of his fading black eye very apparent on his face. And his hold on your wrist is tighter than ever – just like how Steve’s grip was earlier.
Heart pounding, you glance back at Steve – but he’s still busy hoisting the trophy high in the air, posing for pictures and shaking hands with different people.
“Went to your dorm – you weren’t there.” Peter huffs, trying to catch his breath as quickly as he can. “Someone said you might be here – that the entire college was here. And they weren’t wrong – I’ve been looking for you in the crowd for ages. I figured this would be the best way, since he’d be too busy playing to notice anything.”
Peter casts a quick glance at Steve too, before pulling you further away. When he doesn’t stop, you tug back.
“What’re you doing? We can’t… I can’t be speaking to you, he’ll–”
“Come on!” Peter cuts you off, an almost desperate sense of urgency in his tone as he keeps glancing back at Steve. There’s a certain panic to his demeanour, as if he’s in a hurry. “Look, this is the perfect opportunity – he’s distracted, we can just slip out and –”
“Wait, Peter–”
“No, I’m not going to wait and neither are you!” Peter hisses, yanking your arm and pulling you further and further away, off the side of the field and leading to the stairs where a sizeable crowd of people is still mingling.
“Look, I spent a whole month feeling sorry for myself for getting beaten up… For letting him get the best of me. And I barely spared a second to think of you and what you must’ve been going through.” Peter’s talking rapidly, and he never stops moving, never stops tugging you but he does keep looking over his shoulder in Steve’s direction, his palm clammy as he holds on to your wrist. “But then you called, and you sounded distressed. I knew he wasn’t treating you right, I knew I had to do something.”
You swallow harshly, taking another look back at Steve – now his teammates have hoisted him onto their shoulders again, and he’s still smiling for pictures. A million thoughts race through your head, “Peter, I have to get back, he’s gonna–”
But it’s like Peter doesn’t hear you at all, as he determinedly pulls you up the stairs behind him and towards the exit. And you do want to speak to him, of course you do! You haven’t spoken to him for more than a month, and there’s so many things you want to ask him. But, but, but…
“I’m so fucking stupid for not doing something sooner. You were my girlfriend… You are my girlfriend and I should’ve taken care of you.”
You shake your head rapidly, “Peter, please listen! I don’t want to… I don’t think this is a good id–”
“You’re never gonna have to see that sick sonofabitch again, I promise you that much. I’m doing what I should have done that day I showed up at your dorm – take you away from him.”
“Peter, no, I–”
But either it’s the roar of the people around you or his own determination, but he doesn’t seem to hear your pleas. Everything’s happening too fast, the thoughts racing around in your head and the panic bubbling in your chest. Peter is good, you know this – and you know he means well. And yet…
You feel your mark prickle hotly, and you whip around in time to see Steve’s head snap in your direction. Your eyes lock with his for one single split second, and your mark throbs in pain and you feel a certain unrest in your bond, and it feels like you can’t breathe.
The hurt that flashes through Steve’s eyes is the last thing you see before you’re yanked out the exit and swallowed up by the crowd.
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Well. If you managed to make it to the end of this chapter, thank you! I really hope you enjoyed. Guys, I poured my life and soul into this... and I hope I did this chapter justice. Please, PLEASE PLEASE reblog! And give me feedback. That’s what keeps me going honestly. I would love to hear what you think. In fact, i’m nervous to know what you think! And what should we expect for the next part? All I’m gonna say is... Steve’s omega has been taken from him, if he was mean before, it’s nothing compared to what he’ll be now. ALRIGHT BYE. and thank you for all your support! Love you guys!
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buckysburdens · 2 months
Text
make the pain go away
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pairing: dark!steve kemp x curvy!reader, dark!bucky barnes x reader, mention of dark!stucky x curvy!reader.
warnings: steve's raging odaxelagnia. p in v smut. mention of blood. m receiving oral. “puppy” as a pet name . 18+ only. dark dark dark. if i'm missing something that needs to be tagged, please let me know!!
words: 1378
notes: this was supposed to be a smutty steve drabble. i genuinely do not know what happened or how it turned into this. i'm not saying it's part of fawn, but it can definitely be read that way. 🫣
thank you in advance for reading. as always, comments and reblogs are more than welcome and so appreciated. let me know if you enjoyed this. 🖤
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You hiss pathetically as you feel his teeth digging into your soft thighs. Your eyes squeeze shut as you fist the sheets beneath you, doing your best to resist the urge to push at his head, to get him away. You know better. Your knees are both bent up, you feet flat on the bed as Steve lays in the space between your legs. His hands are wrapped around your thighs as he keeps you close and in place, his long fingers digging into your plush flesh as he squeezes you.
You breathe out heavily, sighing into the feeling. You can feel Steve's smirk as he hears it as a moan. God, maybe it was.
His tongue lavishes the spot where he bites before he sucks harder. He lets go after a whine escapes you and your legs twitch.
He kisses his mark on you softly, the indent of his teeth branding you. Just the way he likes. The pain twists to pleasure as he licks the bite mark, long and slow, savoring the taste of your skin. He hums his delight, his nose nuzzling along your thigh and the feeling sends a wave of arousal through you, your body tingling as heat burns under your skin.
He moves up your thigh, his tongue dragging along your sensitive flesh as he does. He is closer now to where you need him to be, but not quite there yet.
"Doing so good," he praises, voice low as his fingers tickle your thighs with his light squeeze of satisfaction.
You suck in a breath as you prepare for his next bite. You want to scream as he bites down harder this time. Your inner thighs, as sensitive as they are, are already marked from his torment. The feeling of your blood warms your skin and it could sicken you how normal that feeling has gotten.
It was scary the first time he broke skin, you had cried but Steve took care of you after. And he has every time since.
He's here to take care of you, that's what they say, that it's his job. It hurts at first, but he'll make sure you're better in the end.
Steve's teeth let go of your flesh before he licks the wound and crawls a hand closer to your cunt. You're so caught up in the pain of his marking and the pleasure of his fingers finally touching you where you need it, you stop thinking completely.
The fingers of his left hand play with your clit teasingly as his right hand holds you thigh and allows himself all the room he needs as he mouths at and kisses the marks he's left. It's primal and yet you can still feel the restraint he uses. He could tear you apart if he wanted to...if he was allowed to.
Your eyes are screwed shut as his fingers move faster and he sucks on your blemished thigh. You're not thinking as you wind a hand in his hair.
Steve moans at the feeling of you gripping onto him, but that sound is overshadowed by the deep growl that emanates from across the room.
Your eyes shoot open as a chill runs through you, goosebumps raising on your skin.
"Don't fucking touch him," Bucky barks the rule as his icy blue gaze burns you.
You let go of Steve immediately, snatching your hand back as you look over to Bucky. Your eyes are filled with your apologies and an unspoken plea for forgiveness.
He leans further back into his chair, his hands on his thighs as he sits with his legs spread wide, his eyes hard as he watches on.
You can see the tightness of his dark jeans as his own arousal is evident through the fabric.
You suddenly feel Steve tongue as he licks along your cunt, spreading your wetness with his saliva. You lips part on a startled moan but you don't dare to look away from Bucky.
He's amused now as he huffs a laugh at you. He stands slowly before he walks over to you, neither of you breaking eye contact.
Bucky bends over the bed to be face to face with you while Steve buries himself in your cunt.
"You have something you wanna say to me, sweetheart?"
You're struggling to stifle your moans as Steve eats you out, completely ravishing you. You open your mouth and a soft gasp of a moan tumbles out as you continue looking at Bucky, "I-" you inhale sharply, once again fisting the sheets rather than Steve's hair as he licks and sucks on your sensitive clit. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Bucky," you manage to get out.
Bucky pats your head, tilting his as his lips quirk up in a smirk. "I'm sure you are, puppy."
You hear the buckle of his belt as he undoes it with one hand himself, still refusing to look away from him. Then you hear the zip of his jeans before he pushes them down some. He backs away briefly as he stands up and you finally let your eyes leave his as you look down; you watch him pull his stiff cock from his pants before he pumps himself once, twice. Your thighs twitch again and your hips threaten to buck off the bed in search of more pleasure from Steve's mouth as you writhe.
"Be a good girl and show me how sorry you are while Dr. Kemp finishes your check up."
He lifts a knee onto the bed and your turn your head further to him as Steve slips two fingers into your wet pussy, paying no mind to Bucky as he enjoys himself. You move as the bed does as they both rearrange themselves. Steve pushes down his pants before lining up his throbbing cock to your tight hole.
"Open, " Bucky orders. You do as he says. Obedient, as you always are. You stick your tongue out as Bucky guides his thick cock to your mouth. Tapping his tip on your tongue before sliding into the warmth of your mouth. You moan pathetically around him as Steve finally pushes into you, your velvety walls squeezing him tight in your pleasure and earning a throaty groan from him as he rocks into you. "Still so fucking tight," he grits out, his large hands gripping your soft waist as he begins fucking into you. Slow at first, but moving faster, keeping long strokes.
You suck on Bucky's cock just the way he likes and his moans are as much a relief as they are delightful, each noise that escapes them both sending more heat to your core.
"Fuck," Bucky pants a laugh, "you've missed having two cocks inside you at once since Stevie's been away, haven't you, sweetheart?" he taunts as he holds your head. "Don't worry, doll. He'll be back soon. Then maybe we'll see how much you like getting fucked by three at once."
Your walls tighten despite yourself as you take in his words and Steve fucks into you harder, "She likes the idea already," he grunts, not holding himself back as he has his way with you.
"Yeah? You think you can take it, baby?" he asks. Bucky thrusts into your mouth to punctuate his question as you garble around his length and he holds himself there as you struggle to breathe for the moment. He finally lets up and you sputter, drool dripping from your lips and down your face as you suck in a breath before he slides back into your wet mouth, letting you lick his cock before allowing you to guide your own movements once again as you continue sucking him off.
You gingerly reach a hand up to grip the base of him, pressing on his pelvis and he groans lowly at your touch, leaning closer into you. Your tits are bouncing with Steve's thrusts as Bucky admires the way your body moves between the two of them. He grabs one of your full breasts and kneads the flesh in his hand, groping and squeezing you before he rubs his thumb over your pert nipple. He hears your moan despite his cock filling your mouth and does it again, smirking. "Always such a good pup."
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tori-peony · 5 months
Text
writers pls I ask that u give me a dark!reader, toxic!reader, mean!reader, jealous!reader, obsessed!reader, possessive!reader just a reader who acts all innocent around everyone else but when its abt her man she’s a crazy bitch who needs therapy
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georgiapeach30513 · 5 months
Text
Kinktober 2023, Day 6
Take The Time
Summary: Every morning you wake up from your worst night. The entire night relentlessly being chased. And each night your will to outrun him was waning. He didn’t seem so bad. And every morning you missed Bucky even more. He had been gone for so long, with no thought of returning. So why were you running from your nightmare? And why were you so so exhausted? When he touched you, why could you still feel it? And why was the rose he gave you now in your bed?
Pairings: Bucky Barnes X Reader
Rating: explicit
Warnings:  explicit language, explicit sexual content, implied non con (sleeping), chasing, stalking/obsession, kidnapping, brief bondage, voyeurism, unprotected sex, PIV sex, manhandling, taunting, creampie, 18+ ONLY
Word Count: 2.7K
Previous
Series Masterlist
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You jolt up in your bed. Chest heaving as you take short shallow breaths. Looking around to find you’ve managed to be in your bed. The recurring dream — nightmare leaves you feeling disoriented in the morning. Everything seems so real. And you wake up breathless.
Rubbing the back of your neck, you take count of your body. Things are sore. Like you had really been running. Had been chased all night by some masked man. You were running less and less. Slowing down because you wanted to see his face. You couldn’t tell if he was chasing you because he wanted to kill you or if he just wanted you.
He didn’t seem angry as he chased you. He seemed…worried. He was trying to warn you of something, but what? The only thing you cared about was finding where your boyfriend has been.
Picking up your phone, you make the same call as you do every morning. His best friend’s voice groans as he answers, “We haven’t heard from him. I told you I would let you know if there are any leads.”
“Steve, I don’t think he’s that far away,” your voice trails off as you look at your bedside table. A single pink rose and no thorns. There was only one person who ever did that for you.
Steve repeats your name several times before you realize he had been speaking, “What’s wrong? Are you okay? Could you please answer me?”
“Steve, there’s…I have a pink rose, and the thorns have been pulled off.”
“I’m on my way,” Steve was well aware of Bucky’s favorite thing to leave behind for you. It was always a pink rose. Red was cliche, and harsh. Pink was your color. Delicate, feminine, sweet. And every time he painstakingly pulled off each of the thorns. No one would ever hurt you while he was around. Not even an inanimate object or a plant.
You walk into the bathroom, looking at yourself in the mirror, you look like shit. A few weeks without sleeping would do that to you. You wanted to tell Steve not to come by. What good would it do? If it was Bucky that left that rose behind, he didn’t want to be seen. If it was someone else, Bucky no longer cares for your safety. Your will in the real world was dwindling just as much as your dream self. You didn’t want to chase for him anymore. You just wanted to know he was okay.
——
You turn to look over your shoulder, and the masked man is gaining on you. A few more strides, and he would be close enough to capture you. You pump your arms harder, and run just a bit faster. It is exhilarating to know that the monstrosity of a man was putting up such a fight because of you.
Reaching out his hand, you swerve out of the way before he actually touches you. Giggling at the fact that he missed. He growls under his mask, and it causes you to slow enough that he pulls you into his body with body arms.
“You’re not fighting,” his voice is deep on your neck, and your body goes limp. You shake your head no because you didn’t care. The thrill was now gone, and replaced with something more. Lust.
There is something in his voice that was oddly familiar, and your body craved it more than you did. “Mmm,” he sniffs up your neck as his hands roam over your body. Dipping lower, until his hands wrap around your thighs. Jerking them apart, and his hands fully explore between your legs.
“Heaven,” he moans, and you lean your head back on his shoulder. This shouldn’t be as comforting as it is, but you’re prepared to let him have you. It was only a dream after all.
He palms you over your panties, because of course you’re just running around in Bucky’s shirt and panties just like you went to sleep. Letting you get good and comfortable in his embrace before slipping off his glove. His nimble fingers move under the elastic of your panties, and you moan when he enters three fingers into your body.
Giving you no time to adjust before his hand barrels into you. You have to bite onto his neck the harder he pushes. His moans and grunts add to your pleasure.
“Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine,” ringing in your ear.
——
Your eyes burst open, and you take a haggard breath. A deep soreness in your core. Your face has been planted in your pillow, and now you struggle to get up. How tense were you in your sleep to cause this much tenderness?
You whimper, twisting your body over, and there lies another rose. This time with a glove. Not just any glove. His. You aren’t dreaming. And you want him. But he’s not Bucky.
You cover your face with your hands allowing the tears you have held in for too long pour out. Rivers of saline drift down your face when Steve rushes to your side, “What is going on?”
“You’ve been here?”
“All night,” he looks to the table, and grits his teeth, “Son of a bitch. Where did that come from?”
“H-h-he had to have left it, but who is he? Steve!” You scream as he storms off. “Steve!” He doesn’t turn back to look at you. “Who is he?”
“I think it’s Bucky,” you shake your head no, but he doesn’t see. “The rose. The glove. I think we found him, but not before he found you,” he spins around to look at you. Covering your face with his hand when everything fades to black.
——
Groggily you open up your eyes, and try to move. Stuck. This isn’t a dream. This shouldn’t be a reality. Roses. Gloves. Bucky. Masked man. Steve. Tied up, and stretched out. What was happening?
There was no way to get out of your predicament. The cuffs on your arms and legs are tight. Keeping you wide and spread for whoever was coming in here. The good thing is you have clothes. For now.
This is so stupid. Steve did this. There is a weird recurring dream, and Bucky is still missing. But Steve said…Bucky found you. Lights turn on into your hellhole of a room and your eyes clench close.
The person in the room inhales deeply before your bed dips down with your weight, and you peek your eyes open, “Steve?”
“You know, you have caused a lot of problems for us,” he begins. His hand taps you on your leg, and you pull it back. Hearing a low rumble outside of the door.
“Us?”
“His mind is just too powerful. Your stupid fucking rose alerted me of just why he can’t complete a damn mission because he keep going to see your pathetic self,” Steve’s hand slams on the bed, and a feral scream echoes into the hall.
“Ahh, shut up! I am not talking to you!” He screams, standing up to open the door, pulling in the masked man, and you retreat away. Being tied up was the moving difficult. “See, she’s not hurt,” the man turns and glares at Steve, pointing a finger at your restraints. “She’ll run away.”
The man shakes his head no, turning to look at you with the softest of eyes, and you know who he is instantly. “What did you do to him?” You pout, and Bucky tries to step towards you
“He’s a weapon,” Steve shrugs his arms. “But you — you invade his mind so much that he can’t even be that. And it wasn’t until he left that fucking pink rose for you that I realized where he was going when he wasn’t on a leash. My god, I should have known. You have poisoned him from the beginning. But I am giving the two of you a gift. I am allowing him to sleep in here with you when his brain isn’t being turned into mush. And when he finally forgets, we’ll dispose of you.”
Bucky growls, pushing Steve up against the wall. His forearm presses into his neck, but Steve laughs maniacally. “I can make you watch as we destroy her. Loosen your grip,” Bucky backs away immediately, keeping a protective stance around you.
“Sweetheart, if I let your precious boyfriend have fun with you, will you try and escape?” Those crystal blue eyes turn to look at you with the most pleading face. He isn’t as vocal as Bucky once was. He looks scared, and you can’t leave him.
“I won’t escape,” your lip trembles. You wouldn’t escape now. But you’re also taking Bucky with you.
“Good. Soldier, have your fun. Pump her full of cum, beat her, fuck her until she passes out, I don’t care. You understand he might not be the man you remember. He’s a machine.”
Steve turns on his heels, walking out of the room, “And you’re a monster. Bucky?” His head tilts to the side as he walks closer to you. Gently undoing your binding, and you sit up in the bed to remove his mask. Your hand presses gently up against his cheek, and you sob out his name.
“I thought I lost you. Won’t you say something?”
He struggles to say your name, and you brush away his hair, crawling into his lap. “It’s okay. I know what you mean. I got your roses. They can’t take away your heart, huh? Just your words,” his gloved hand pets up and down your back, and it infuriates you. “Take that off. I want to feel your skin.”
“Yeah — yes,” he says robotically, removing the material that keeps him from you. His hand touches your back, and you melt into him. He smells different, but that underlying musk of Bucky that was his natural scent is still there.
“Miss — you.”
“I missed you, too. Dreamed about you every night.”
“Not — dream. Me,” sitting back, you look up at him. Giving him the softest chaste kiss. “Me.”
“I did feel you. But you weren’t really chasing me were you?” He shakes his head smiling. “So I was dreaming, and you were touching?”
“Sorry,” his glove free hand pets up and down your sensitive neck before struggling to put it away. Bucky loved feeling his hand around your neck, and now there is a fear to touch you in that way.
“What if,” you lick your dry lips, eyes flitting around his face when you get the courage to speak. “What if I let you touch me? I’m not dreaming, or sleeping. I’m here. Apparently I am your toy to play with, so play. You…you can put me back in the restraints if you need to”
His brow furrows, and he shakes his head no. “You don’t have to hunt me. You don’t have to wait until I’m sleeping, I’m right here telling you I want you to have me. I’m leaving. But not without you. And…we’ll get out of this. We always do.”
Bucky lifts you off his lap to lay flat on the bed. Lifting up his shirt, he cheekily smiles at your covered core before rubbing the shirt in between his fingers. “Mine?”
You pull his hand down to your center. Letting him flatten his hand against you, “Yours,” a deep low growl rumbles up his chest, followed by a sigh. “It’s always been yours, Bucky.”
Sitting back up, you remove his shirt, and he looks over to the corner of the room, cameras. “Let them watch. I just want you,” you shimmy out of your panties, becoming completely nude while he is still in his gear. “However you want me,” you urge him closer. Taking off his other glove so you can weave your fingers in his.
Touch with Bucky has always been electric, and this is no different. He straightens up with your touch. Eyes opening up to show a bit more life to them. Getting to his knees, he undoes his pants, pulling them down just enough to free his cock, and you chirp at the sight of him.
“Yours,” he cocks his brow up, before using his thick body to spread you out further. Grabbing the base of his cock, he flicks your clit with his tip. Over and over again until you’re completely needy and squirming for him. Your arousal leaks out onto the bed, but this Bucky doesn’t stop. He wants to torture you with pleasure.
“Bucky!” Your fingers cling to his forearm as you urge him closer to you, but he still sits there flicking your clit, and teasing your entrance. “Bucky, take it. Take all of me. You already have.”
His breathing stutters, and your eyes blow wide open as he thrusts himself completely into you. Giving you seconds to adjust to his wide girth before he rails into you. There isn’t anything sweet about this moment. You’ve had sweet. This is Bucky reclaiming what was always his. Raw and forceful, and all James Bucky Barnes.
His hands slam above your head onto the bed frame. Wood splinters above your head, creaking under his pressure, but you only see Bucky. Much too dressed for your liking, but it was him. Powerful. Dangerous. Hard. But the softness in his eyes remains.
He is everything that you have ever wanted, and so much more. Even in this state, he is perfect. More than any man could ever amount to. He is Bucky. And he is yours. There is a fearful look on his face now. But he never gave up. He always finds you. He promised you he would, and he kept that promise.
Pulling himself out of you he wraps his arm around your waist, and forces you onto your knees, pushing your head down into the mattress before grabbing at your hips, and cramming himself back inside. You grip tightly to the sheets, centering yourself, and trying to remain present. This was always your favorite position. Letting Bucky use you completely, and it makes you a mess.
Squirting out how good it feels, and he goes harder. The bed lurches with every rock into your body. Eyes rolling into the back of the bed as you thank the stars above for giving Bucky back to you.
“And you think she is going to be the secret?” A man looks over towards Steve who was scowling at the monitor. He hated watching Bucky with you. He never deserved you. And no matter what he did, Bucky always found you. Desperation caused this, and he still found you.
“He’s not fighting anymore, is he?” Steve asks the man. Bucky just wanted you. You were his biggest weakness.
“Maybe he wouldn’t have fought, if you didn’t tease him. What was it you told him? You got to sink into her every fucking night? That you were going to breed her like your little bitch?” Steve shrugs his shoulders, trying to fight his impending hard on.
“I’m guessing you never got to fuck her?”
“It’s more complicated than that. She was only worried about Bucky. She didn’t even think about…I didn’t have time to try because that asshole kept needing to see her, and now she’s here, and…I hate him,” Steve grunts as Bucky smirks up at the camera.
Tilting his head back he lets out a guttural moan as he goes harder and faster than he ever has. Your body is completely flat on the bed now, trembling with pleasure as you look back at Bucky. He is different, and somehow still the same. He is enjoying himself, and your pleasure has always been his.
Hands hold tightly to your ass, spreading you apart so he can watch where the two of you connect. “I love you, Bucky,” your voice is barely audible, but he heard it. Crying out your name as he slams into yourself one last time before his thick cream paints your walls, and you moan at the warmth of his added seed.
“I love you, too,” such sweet sounds coming from him. Slowly he pulls himself out of you, and lifts up your ass, pointing to your gaping hole before looking back at the camera. “Mine. Not yours.”
“Who…who’s watching.”
“Him. Shh, go to sleep. Don’t worry. You’re mine.”
“And you are mine.”
“Forever and…”
“Always,” he would forever be yours. Nothing could ever change that. And nothing ever would.
Next
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Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @pono-pura-vida @missusbarnes-rogers @seitmai @smile1318 @andydrysdalerogers @cjand10 @midnightramyeoncravings @kmc1989 @floral-recs @buckybarnesisdaddy @magnificentsaladllama @tittittoee
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riedswifts · 1 year
Text
AFTER HOURS
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NOMAD!STEVE X READER
Warnings : smut, barley plot, oral (f receiving), praise, slight size kink, desk sex, slight breeding, fingering, steve has a bit of a mouth, fluff (at the end ), some dumbification.
Summary : you and steve seem to have a mix of tensions and the top one being hate, but a night alone in the tower shows what the real problem is.
Word count: 2.8k
┊ ┊⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊⋆ ┊ . ┊
Everyone had left out with their significant others, or friends or family. Nat had begged you to come but you kindly declined. Being on a long-standing mission, and nearly being on the brink of death literally- being an assassin and hanging off a building by a falling building is tiring. You also weren’t expecting some things and were worn out to the max.
You were under the impression everyone had left. Except Jarvis of course but that was a computer system. So you had no reason to wear full clothes and being a trained assassin leaves you in shape so you thought you’d be fine. Leaving your personal huge room in nothing but a black widow t-shirt and a pair of panties, no bra either, you just explored the tower in its glory during the night hours.
It was stunning to say the least and not to brag but you had one of the best views. Tony made sure your room had a floor to ceiling window with a space in it to go on the balcony that overlooked the city’s lights. It was payment in a way, you had nearly died saving his life quite a few times and even if he didn’t admit it you were his favorite on the team.
You had decided that you would go out on the very ledge thor and loki fought on. You had quickly snagged a bottle of any alcohol you could snag without stopping and made your way outside. You sat near the ledge but not fully on it. Your ankles hanging off the edge as you sat with your legs stretched out.
You held up the bottle and glanced at it ‘Daviun vodka’ you didn’t care for brands but this one seemed ok and the flavor was watermelon. So you popped off the top and set it beside you as you rested back on your elbows taking a swig and staring at the bottle after before shrugging with a satisfied hum.
You just relaxed not registering the sound of someone getting closer. It was a rare moment when you let your guard down but after all you had asked JARVIS prior to this if any one was here and the damn shit said no. Someone stood behind you and you slightly stiffened.
Without moving you acted clueless before in seconds you stood up and stunned the person as you broke the handle off the vodka and managed to flip them over onto their back holding the jagged edge to their throat. Bored blue eyes stared back at you with the upmost annoyed face.
You scoffed standing up completely forgetting your attire. You didn’t bother sticking your hand out to help him up, you just grabbed the bottle and started walking inside. You heard him scoff in disbelief but you didn’t care, he was a grade A dick after all- only to you- that was.
“Why are you here? Have no friends to go out with?” He asked trailing you inside. You rolled your eyes making a dramatic annoyance sound. “Do you?“ You shot back, it was a fifth grade response but you didn’t care in the slightest.
“Fifth grade response, Cute.” He said sarcastically and you with to cut his beard off and his throat but tony and natasha agreed no killing the super solider. stupid rules.
“What do you want steve?” You asked putting the bottle back, you started walking and made an abrupt turn into the small room. The one where everyone had sat and watched as they replayed a video of wanda accidentally destroying a building and killing people. It was empty, lights off, chairs pushed in.
You always came to watch TV in here because the projected screen was cooler to you. After all you didn’t have electronics until you escaped the red room with natasha. Steve still followed you in there but you ignored him as you picked up the projector remote.
Sitting on the table you slid back leaving from your knees down hanging off the table as he grumbled that you were ignoring him. “Do you have anything better to do than I don’t know..annoy me?” You asked rolling your eyes.
His eyes seemed to finally take in your appearance and you had neglected the fact that your nipples would poke through the thin t-shirt due to the coldness. His eyes darkened for a moment before he sharply directed his state to the screen. “Just genuinely curious as to what a looser like you decided to do when they’re alone.”
Your head snapped in his direction. “Oh fuck off steve.” You scoffed. Deciding to press play on the movie but before you could the remote was snatched out of your hand and you glared at him as he tossed it aside.
He stood right in front of you and you scooted backwards. Your eyes narrow in on him as he licked his lips running a hand over his beard. “What’s your fucking problem?” You asked extremely annoyed your night was ruined by the captain himself.
Though there was the faint throb between your legs that made you wanna stab your eyes out, how dare your own body betray you like that.
After the question left your mouth his eyes snapped back up to yours. His hair was slightly slicked back but looked like he had laid down in it because a few pieces had fell out. He paused staring at you making you slightly shiver. He saw the way your thighs slightly shifted to squeeze, the way your nipples poked through the thing t-shirt. He could faintly see the lace of your panties, he stared at you for a long moment.
Suddenly he grabbed your Ankle pulling you forward making you slid until you were right in front of him a mere inch from his nose as his hands rested on either side of you. “You see, my problem is, i can’t decide if i hate your guts or maybe it’s the frustration of not being able to rearrange them.”
Your eyebrows raised as your breathing sped up a bit. His eyes swapped between your eyes and lips, then they locked on your eyes maintaining eye contact as you felt the coldness of his avengers ring against your knee.
“Well then, maybe that’s a theory we need to test out.” You said as his hand slid up more leaving a trail of goosebumps before gripping your leg tightly. He smirked at how reactive you were to his touch.
He hummed before leaving you curious as he removed his hands. Suddenly they where on the curves on your ass pushing you flush against him, as if it was natural your legs spread allowing the bulge in his pants to press right against your now dampened panties.
Your back arched as you looked up at him and his lips crashed into yours, it wasn’t passionate, and soft- no. It was bruising, full of dominance and emotion. Obviously the fight for domination still stood and as an assassin you weren’t gonna give up.
However when his hands gripped your hips and rolled your hips against his you let out an involuntary humiliating moan. That allowed him to slip his tongue into your mouth and when he squeezed your ass he let you know, he had won.
You pulled away from him to breathe as you guys started at each other panting. His forehead came to rest against yours before laying you on the empty mahogany desk. He kissed you again bruising like as your hands started to wonder you tugged at his shirt and without disconnecting his lips from yours he took it off.
His hands slid up under your shirt cupping your breast and ran his thumbs over the hardened peaks. When your back arched it caused you to accidentally grind against him and this time you both moaned. He bit your lip before letting it go and kissing down your neck.
He sucked and bit making sure to suck each piece of smooth skin he could find. One of his hands pulled out from your shirt and cupped the back of your neck pulling you up before he pulled the shirt swiftly over your head.
He stared at you for a moment. “God, you’re stunning.” He whispered and before you could comprehend what was going on his mouth had latched on to your nipple sucking and slightly biting it making you moan.
He laid you back down and your mind fogged as you unbuckled his belt. However before you could do more he had grabbed both of your hands stopping his attacks on your boobs.
He pulled both your arms above your head and smirked down at your face, you looked stunning. Hair spread out and marks forming on your neck stopping above your breast. Your lips were swollen and bruised. He adored this sight.
God, he wish he had figured this out sooner, that instead of bitching he just actually fucked you. He didn’t think he’d find anything more addicting after seeing you in this state.
He kissed down your body stopping at the hem of your panties and deciding he was to impatient he tore them off making you whine. “i’ll buy you new ones.” He muttered as he got on his knees hooking his arms around your thighs. His hand pushing your stomach down.
You shivered as you felt the cold air of the tower directly on your bare pussy. Without a warning he shoved his face between your legs licking from your hole to your clit, the sensation made you gasp as your back arched.
“fuck!”
Steve groaned hearing the words fall out of your mouth. His tongue switched from sucking your clit to dipping his tongue in and out of you making you squirm. He looked up at you mouth and chin coated in slick. “Do not move your hands.”
Your brows furrowed as you continued to pant. “Wh-mmhh.” Your words turned into a soft moan when you felt one of his thick fingers slide in and bottom out. Your eyes pinched shut and your back arched off the table.
His other finger slid in as well and you tried to close your legs but he pulled them further apart. He watched your expression as he pulled them out almost fully before slamming them back in and curling them. He groaned and nearly came in his pants at the sight of you.
“Such a good girl for me.” He muttered before attaching his lips to your clit again and sucked on it whilst moving his fingers in and out. He Felt you tighten around him and couldn’t wait to see how you feel on his cock.
You were panting and babbling words of his name and please. What really sent you over the edge is when he sucked your clit with his teeth grazing it as he pumped his fingers harder curling them as your fingers locked him in.
Your orgasm crashed over you making your mind fog and your head limp to the side as pathetic whimpers left your plump and less swollen lips. He didn’t seem to care much that you had came all over his face because he kept sucking and licking up every last bit of cum.
You panted as you reached for his pants trying to tug them down as you recovered from your orgasm. When steve had finally freed his cock you assumed your face said it all because his chuckle was dark, taunting like.
He parted your legs again and you tried to close them but he roughly grabbed them pulling you closer to him but you let out a whimper when his huge side rubbed against your sensitive clit.
He made a mock frown face at you. “C’mon now sweetheart, be a good girl and take it for me, hmm?” He said as he massaged your breast with one hand and stroked himself. You nodded now desperate as the ache returned between your legs.
He let the tip slip in and he saw your face completely washed with pleasure. Brows furrowed, parted mouth, marks fully developed, and sweat beading your forehead. Without warning he pushed the rest of his way in and you gasp as he groaned.
You were used to sex of course you’ve had sex before but nobody was this big before. The intrusion felt good but the small sting was there lingering but it only added to the pleasure. “If you don’t stop squeezing’ me i’m gonna fucking cum.”
You relaxed around him and he groaned in relief. You felt more heavenly then he ever could’ve thought. He leaned down and captured your lips with his before thrusting with force and when he lifted one of your legs higher and he lifted your hips your eyes rolled back when he hit the spot that had you screaming his name.
“Look at you.” He said panting as he continued to thrust. “Takin it like such a good fucking girl.” With each word his thrust got harder and it made the breath get caught in your throat.
You grabbed his face kissing him harshly and he moaned into your mouth fueling the tightening in your lower stomach already. Suddenly he dropped you legs pushing them on the desk making them bend as he buried his face in the crook of your neck.
His thrust slowed to deep strokes. “You feel me, hmm?” He said and you moaned when he hit the spot inside you that had you babbling like a dumb person. Suddenly you felt the most unexplainable feeling.
It was like the tightness got tighter but mixed with a load of pleasure. You whimpered at the feeling as steve pushed his hand down harder on your lower tummy. “you feel that.” he panted as he thrusted again. “That’s how deep i am inside of you…”
“ohmygodohmygod.” was all you could babble as he pressed harder making the coil tighten up. “Steve- i’m gonna-“ He shut you up by kissing you as the hand that was pressing the bulge moved to your clit. “Do it, be a good girl and cum all over my cock.” He whispered as his thrust did not slow down.
He suddenly put his other hand behind your neck making you look down at his cock slipping in and out of you. “fuck- you see that?” He said as he kept moving in and out. Your hand was holding his wrist as his hand was behind your neck.
“C’mon- fuck!.” Steve said when you clenched harder around him. “give it to me.” he muttered as you laid back down and his fingers pinched and rolled your clit and he rubbed in a fast motion causing the coil to snap, your orgasm rushing over you like a tidal wave.
You blanked out for a moment, as black spots filled your vision and you’re pretty sure you said steve more times than any avenger had over the past years. You were moaning, sweaty, dazed and fucked out. Just how he wanted.
You got pulled back down when he kept running you and you whined tryna pull away. “to much.” you muttered and he mocked a frown. “Awe is my baby to fucked out? Look at you all dumb and can barley speak a full sentence.” He said and you moaned as he hit your over worked spot.
“You gonna be a good girl and let me cum inside of you hmm? Gonna fill you all up.” He muttered and you nodded. “Please- please cum inside of me.” your voice was hoarse and he held onto you tightly as his head went to your neck and you felt his thrusts getting sloppy before you felt ropes of cum deep inside you.
His head laid on your chest arms your arms circled his shoulder both of you laying there while his hands wrapped around you. He was slowly moving his hips pushing the thick cum into you deeper.
“Mr. Rogers? are you alright your heart rate seems exceptionally high? You as well Miss.” Steve who was Resting between your bare breasts chuckled making you smile.
“Oh i see Mr. Stark and the rest of them have returned. They’re parking.” Jarvis said and steve looked at you lifting you up as he looked at the cum mess on the table.
“Jarvis how much time do we have?” you asked as steve held you legs wrapped around his waist and due to the serum it was easy for him to hold your short frame up with one hand.
“Well five minutes starting now.” You and steve chuckled as you hopped down and cleaned the cum mess and he gathered your guys clothes.
“Good?” You asked fixing the chairs and everything. Steve nodded and Held his arm out and you jumped up wrapping your legs around his waist as he snuck out the room and ran up the stairs to his floor and shut the door.
“Guys?! Did you guys murder each other?”
That was all you heard from downstairs, before you guys bursted into giggles.
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tempestuous-lush · 1 year
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daddy || f!reader x dark!Bucky
summary: You're a good girl. Dating Steve Rogers. In school pursuing a degree. You're a good girl. With a secret. You're a good girl who runs a cam show and when you meet Steve's friends you realize your best customer is also his best friend.
warnings: masturbation, daddy kink, breeding kink, creampie, bathroom sex, hints of cum play, underwear gagging, public play, demeaning sex, and dark!Bucky.
My first time writing a dark!Bucky.
I hope it lives up to the expectation.
tags: @sweetieswiftie @tarotwitchy-main
word count: 2,946 k
[part one] [part two]
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You observed yourself in the full length mirror. 
A sigh escaped you. 
Why were you so nervous? 
No big deal. You were just meeting Steve’s friends. Captain America’s friends. You quickly slipped your dress off in frustration before landing face down in your bed and groaning into the mattress. You pushed yourself up though and flipped onto your back instead, your hair splayed out around you before exhaling again. 
“Screw this.”
You were talking to yourself. Very healthy. 
What you needed was a dose of confidence. You were trying to dress modestly, to avoid getting unwanted gazes. But you knew exactly what would make you feel bold and ready to take on the world. 
You pulled on a garter belt and clipped on your stockings in a delicate polka dot print, the seam running up the back. Next you pulled on a nude bralette that matched your stockings with the same delicate mesh and polka dot pattern. It was one of your favorite things to cam in for a reason. 
You looked good, and you knew it. 
There were matching panties, but you had sent those to someone only a week or so ago. So, you grabbed your loose fitting dress and slipped it back on your frame. You sat on the bed to slip on your heels, relishing in the way your dress pooled against your bare cunt. 
A smirk appeared on your face as you looked over at your streaming corner. The corner of your room had a camera set up, warm fairy lights along the background with a settee. You’d told Stebe this was your reading area when he’d come over, the equipment tucked away beneath the bed. 
You glanced at the clock and saw the time. You had forty minutes to spare. Turning on the camera, you looked at the screen with a fanning of eyelashes before backing up to be in full view. A small smile graced your lips as soon as you heard the sounds of notifications letting you know people were joining. You slowly unbuttoned your dress revealing your flesh and lingerie as you more or less purred, “just jumping in real quick to say hello…”
Unbuttoning the last button, you shrugged out of your dress before dragging your fingers along your body. A small moan escaped you as you ghosted along your slit. Part of you used to hate how wet this made you, playing with yourself on camera for money. But now? You didn’t even blink. 
You smiled as your favorite customer appeared in chat, knowing it was him by the message and not the handle.
Hello doll.
You had no idea what he looked like, but there had been multiple times he’d paid good money for you to chat with him privately. He’d talked you through more orgasms than you could count while you played his favorite roll: his doll. His bred, cum filled doll. 
You smiled at the message, “Hey baby.”
He typed back. Do you have time for me today doll?
“Always. I’ll send you the link as usual baby.”
You saw other comments coming through, begging you to stay for just a few more moments. Instead, you cup your breasts and roll your nipples through the mesh, giving a bit of a needier moan, “Don’t worry boys, this was impromptu. I will be back at my scheduled time.”
You move your camera to point towards your bed, making sure it was close enough for him to see well, before sending him an invite link. Before you came into frame you heard him, “I’ve missed our meetings doll.”
A small smile lingered on your lips as you pulled your favorite toy from the drawer, a guilty pang pulling at you as you thought of Steve.
You shoved it down though as you sat on the bed and slowly spread your legs for him, dragging your toy along your thighs. A breathy sigh escaped you as you asked him, “You’ve missed my wet little pussy, daddy?”
You heard a hiss escape him. Daddy. It’s the one thing he asked you to call him. You were taken aback at first but a part of you realized quickly how much you loved it. 
You heard a groan. 
“Is that big cock hard for me daddy?”
You heard him as he spit, his breath falling heavy as he began to stroke himself. He breath fell in heavy pants quickly, “Doll, gonna fuck you one day and when I do you’re gonna want my cock buried deep inside you all the time. But for now stuff that wet pussy with your little toy.”
His voice was strained, like he was trying hard to hold back. You teased yourself. You only rocked the head of your toy into your hole, walls clutching at nothing. Part of you enjoyed teasing him, “M’daddy…m’need something bigger. Need your cock. M’so wet.”
“Need my fucking cum deep inside you.”
At his words you sank your toy inside of you, your arousal letting you take it eagerly. Your back arched off the bed as you called out, “Fuck yes.”
“Look so good. Gonna cum. Can I cum on that pretty pussy doll? Gonna fuck me inside of you with your toy?”
“Mmm fuck. Gonna make me all messy with your cum daddy?” God you were so close. 
“Yebat!” He let out a heavy grunt before all you could hear was his breathing, heavy, erratic. 
You were so close. You flipped to your stomach and thrust your ass in the air, giving him the perfect view of your soaked core before you plunged your toy back inside. You rolled your hips and shuddered at the sensation. Then, you brought your ass down, thrusting up with your toy, and hitting the perfect spot you came hard, crying out incoherently… your cum squirting out of you as you pulled your toy from your spasming pussy. 
He followed right behind you. 
Bucky’s cum shot out of him as he inhaled the scent of the worn panties you sent him as a thanks for his “support”. It made it even better that the pair you sent him matched the set you currently were wearing.
His cock started getting hard again as he watched you lightly stroking your pussy, body jerking at every touch from over sensitive you were. He had never ached for anyone like this before. Bucky glanced down at his watch. Fuck. He didn’t want to be here but Steve was adamant he would be there. 
As you slowly came down from your high and caught your breath, you smiled at the camera shyly. 
Bucky’s head fell back in frustration before groaning, “M’sorry doll. Daddy has somewhere to be or else I’d happily pay to see you cumming again and again.”
“S’that so, daddy?”
You weren’t sure why you were doing this. You were about to go to dinner with Steve. Yet, you reached to your nightstand and pulled out a toy that only he would know. 
Bucky smirked knowingly as he saw it. 
You slipped the wearable vibrator inside of you, the slender arm of it nestled to you until it ended right at your clit. You sent him the link and he immediately cranked it high, causing you to double over at the sensation before he let off, nearly cooing, “Had to make sure it worked my little doll. Gonna tease you all night so you think of me.”
After smiling and saying goodbye, you watched as a notification came through that daddy left you $750. There was also an attachment. 
He had never sent one before, and so out of curiosity you opened it. 
A gasp left you as you were greeted with a picture of a heavy, thick cock with cum pooled beneath it. A blush erupted on your cheeks as you saw your panties draped over the base. You instinctively licked your lips at the sight of semen beaded at the tip. 
And that was when you felt it, the lowest setting. A warmth bloomed inside of you, even as you cleaned your thighs up and pulled a new dress on. It was a powder blue and despite the top of it fitting tightly, the bottom flowed to your knees. 
Just as you finished getting yourself together your doorbell rang and you opened it, smiling at Steve just as the setting went up one. A small gasp of surprise escaped you and Steve smiled, “You look beautiful, sweetheart.”
Suddenly feeling needy, you pull him by his shirt collar and give him a long, lingering kiss. Carding his hair with your fingers, you pull at the base of his skull which had him moaning against your lips before he pulled back, “As much as I’d like to explore this, we have to get to the restaurant on time, yeah?”
A small blush crept across the bridge of your nose before you nodded, and his hand enveloped your own and gently pulled you along. 
Bucky was already half through with his drink and talking to Natasha when you walked in, Steve’s arm draped across your shoulder. The first thing he spotted were those stockinged legs that he would recognize anywhere. Following the line of sight up, he noticed the dress, and then saw your face. He turned to his phone, nonchalantly saying something to Nat. It couldn’t be you, could it? He turned the setting up to the highest one without any warning and watched you react. Your breath caught and your legs pressed together momentarily before he turned the setting down to the lowest once more. Fuck. He knocked the rest of his whiskey back in one gulp. 
What are the fucking chances?
Just as Bucky motioned for another drink, Steve reached him and Nat looking like the proudest man around. He eyed you. Does he know, doll? Does he know you get paid by men to degrade yourself? Does he know you get off on begging your daddy?
You were distracted by the woman first. Beautiful. Curvy. Red hair. Just off that alone, you imagined this must be Natasha. You were about to say hello, the smile on your lips fading as you saw him. You didn’t know who this was. Hard, dark blue eyes staring at you. It almost felt like he could see your soul bared only to him. It was unsettling. As though he were the opposite of everything comforting you found in Steve. He had dark hair, hard lines, was silently judging, and devastatingly handsome. You saw the dim light of the Edison bulbs reflecting from the metal of his arm. Bucky. You held your hand out to Nat and introduced yourself. 
Bucky was watching you intently, not interested in the way Steve held his arm around you or laughed as Natasha introduced herself and said some ridiculous quip. No. He heard your name falling from your lips. It was beautiful. Perfect. Like you. Daddy’s little whore, begging to be filled to the brim with his cum.
Bucky snapped out of it when he heard Steve, “And the antisocial lump in the corner here is James Buchanan Barnes, Bucky for short, and my best friend.”
His smile was dazzling and took you off guard. 
He held out his hand and you took hold of it without question. Though, your grip faltered as he said his next words, “So nice to finally meet you, doll.”
Doll.
You realized who this was at that word, that voice. 
The whole time you were sitting at the table, trying to hold a conversation with Natasha, Steve, and now Sam and Wanda. Bucky was knocking back drinks while absorbed in his phone. To everyone else, he seemed to be rudely absorbed in his phone. But to you? God fucking dammit. You were trying your best not to die, ignoring the ever growing ache growing between your thighs.  About half way through the meal though, you threw your napkin down, “Excuse me, m’not feeling well.” You walked swiftly, legs shaking, frantically asking the bartender where the bathroom was. And just as Steve got up to follow you, he got waylaid by a fan asking for a picture. 
Steve smiled in thanks as Bucky stood up and simply reassured his friend, “I’ll go check on her.”
You quickly found the bathroom and opened the door, slamming it shut and frantically clicking the lock. You sat on the toilet and spread your legs, resting the heel of your left foot on the sink to hold them open. You quickly removed the toy, throwing it to the side where it landed in the sink, your arousal dripping from your pussy now that the toy wasn’t plugging you up. 
You needed friction. 
Desperately, you sank your fingers inside of yourself, the noises as you crooked them to hit that sweet spot only driving your frenzied arousal. You mewled, needing more and not having it. Your slippery fingers against your sensitive clit didn’t help either. Then you stilled as you heard a knock, followed by a voice, “Doll, you okay? Steve sent me to check on you?”
His voice hit you just as you started to finger yourself again. The combination made you moan. Another knock as you frantically fucked your hand like a wild animal in heat, “Doll, if you unlock the door…I can help you. You’ll feel so much better.”
You stilled again before struggling to get to your feet, slowly walking to the door. You unlocked it and stepped back. The door slammed open and you were met by the sight of Bucky palming his cock through those tight fitting jeans, looking at you with nothing more than lust. Quickly walking in, he closed the door and locked it before taking something out of his pocket. Your fucking underwear. You weren’t sure what to feel about the fact that he carried them on him to dinner. 
But he roughly grabbed your cheeks and pressed so your mouth opened and he shoved them inside of your mouth. A muffled moan escaped you as he spun you around and pinned your hips against the sink. As you began to salivate over the delicate fabric, you realized…it tasted of his cum. Fresh. Salty. Musk. It was all him. 
You were reignited at the realization he must have cleaned up with them earlier. This was the fucking counter in the background of the picture he sent. And then you heard the zipper of his jeans and he lined up the head of his cock before snapping his hips up and you clamped his hand over your mouth as you cried out, muffled already by the fabric.
Bucky groaned in your ear, “Fucking hell doll, so wet for daddy. So needy. Nod yes for me doll if this is all from me playing with you.”
You nod into his hand, tears threatening to spill at the sensation of him fucking you. 
“Too much of a fucking whore for Steve to handle properly.”
Fuck me, fuck me. 
“Gonna make you cream daddy’s fat cock inside you, doll, and then gonna fill you with my cum. And we’re gonna do it fast, doll. Lest you want Steve to know how fucking filthy you are.”
Bucky watched as your eyes rolled into the back of your head. You felt more amazing than he even thought possible. He pulled his phone out again and turned the toy all the way up before grabbing hold of it and pulling your head back with the hand covering your mouth, his other held the toy firmly against your clit. It was your undoing. 
You came so fast, Bucky still driving deep inside of you even as you did. 
Suddenly, he grunted, “Ready for me doll? Pussy so greedy you’re gonna milk me dry. Smooth as silk with how wet you are for me.”
Then, with one final thrust deep inside of you, he came. His cum painted your walls and he turned off the toy, pulling out of you and taking his hand away with your underwear in his fingers. Reduced to panting, you pressed your legs together, inexplicably wanting his warm seed to stay inside of you. He handed you your panties, knowing, and you slipped them on. 
Tucking his cock back inside his jeans, he zipped them up before looking you over, “Funny that you think you’re worthy of Steve when you eagerly spread that pretty pussy for daddy, doll. The only thing that you’re worthy of is being daddy’s bred little bitch. Isn’t that right?” His words stung as you thought of Steve, who was so good to you. Tears threatened once more to spill.
“See you back at dinner, though you might want to clean up. It might be difficult to explain another man’s cum inside of you when you get back home, doll.”
That was all he said, and he left. 
Suddenly ashamed, you looked at the toy in the bathroom sink covered in your arousal. A sob escaped you before you began to clean up. Meanwhile, Steve ran into Bucky on his way back to the table. Bucky stopped him, “Hey man, I’d give her a little bit. The food didn’t agree with her very well. She’s a bit of a mess.” Torn, Steve slowly nodded and walked back to the table with his friend. He knew you’d want privacy if you were sick. 
By the time you got back to the table you immediately ordered a drink and downed it.
Fuck.
Steve rubbed your back affectionately before asking, “You okay?”
“Mhm, feel much better now, thank you for asking.”
Steve gave you a kiss on the cheek, leaving his hand on your back to trace the same path.
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All the Good Girls Go To Hell 21
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Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, obsession, power imbalance, injury, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: You come home for the summer but your break is not as relaxing as you expect.
Character: Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers
Note: Enjoy.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me &lt;3
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)
Love you all. Take care. 💖
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The warm pressure of Bucky's fingertips release the tension from your soles and radiates up your legs. You feel yourself slumping further against the armrest, watching the television as you try not to be too aware of his touch. It's hard to ignore as a groan slips between your lips. You sink down, extending your legs so he can get a better grasp.
“Good?” He asks lightly.
“Mhmm,” you hum, “it's nice.”
He keeps on, his large hands around your foot as he rolls his knuckle into your arch. You let out an embarrassing noise and giggle as his tending turns ticklish. You sit up suddenly, cheeks burning as your thighs tingle. 
He looks at you surprised as you plant your palms and hold yourself out. You lift a hand and fix your glasses. You give a sheepish smile and wiggle your toes.
“Tickly,” you carefully raise your feet and bend your legs. He reluctantly lets you go as disappointment wrinkles in his forehead.
“Sorry,” he apologises.
“No, no, it's okay,” you turn straight, hanging your legs over the edge as you come to sit in the middle of the sofa, “I'm just sensitive.”
“Ah, and I can be a bit overbearing,” he adds.
You fold your hands in your lap and smile, your eyes drifting back to the television as you divert your attention to the cat fight over an over extravagant brunch. You feel his gaze, it has you paralysed. He sighs and stretches his arm over the back of the couch. You stay along the edge, pretending to be rapt in the on-screen drama.
His leg sways one way then the other. He blows out a long breath and the tension mingles with a sweltering heat. You wince as you feel a brush along your arm and glance over as he pushes the strap of your shirt back over your shoulder.
He smiles as you peek down at the fabric. You meet his gaze again as his fingertips linger on your skin, caressing in circles as he sits forward. You tilt your head, spellbound by his slow movement.
You gulp as you feel the tugging force between you. Like a magnet you can't help but lean in as he leans closer. Your eyes go wide as you realise what's about to happen. He's going to kiss you and you're not going to stop him.
His breath swathes around you as he grips your shoulder, hand crawling towards your neck. He brings his fingers under your chin and angles your head back as you shift towards him. Your noses brush against each other but your lips can't meet before a sudden bang draws you apart.
You sit back and cross your arms, cheeks burning as Bucky stands abruptly. He clears his throat as you shake your head and clamp your lips tight. That was too close.
“Yo,” Naomi hollers as she prances into the room, stopping short as Bucky distances himself from you. You're stunned by her arrival, her nonchalance unexpected given her storming out days before. “Huh,” she looks between you and her smile falls to a scowl, “am I interrupting?”
“Wasn't expecting you,” Bucky grits.
“Clearly,” she scoffs as you fold your hands and stare at her helplessly, “you move on fast.”
“It's not–” you begin but go unheard as Bucky speaks over you.
“And you sure are a good friend. Took me all day to clean that shit off her car,” he snarls, “so unless it's an apology, you won't talk to her.”
“Oh, this is so rich. Her?” Naomi blusters.
“It's about decency,” he insists, “why are you even here? Shouldn't you be with the worm?”
“I came back to check on her–”
“Sure,” Bucky crosses his arms and you watch his shoulders bulge, “you left her all alone yesterday and now you care so much, huh?”
“I'm sure you were right there with your little act to sweep her off your feet. You should be thanking me,” she accuses, “she's my friend. She just feels sorry for a pathetic old man like you.”
You stand up, standing just behind Bucky. He has no response, throwing up his hands as he blows between his lips. He waves her off dismissively.
“Whatever, Mimi, I'm the bad guy,” he mutters.
“It's not true,” you say as he turns away from her, “please– I… Nay,” you pass him as he drags his feet. You stop in front of Naomi, watching her expectantly, “I'm here because you ditched me. Last night… I said no. I said no and you violated me.”
She rolls her eyes, “we were having fun.” 
“It wasn't fun for me,” you retort.
She puts her hands on her hips and tilts her head defiantly, “it was a kiss–”
“That it? No sorry?” You sputter, genuinely hurt.
“Well, uh, yeah,” her voice warbles, “I'm sorry, sure, I didn't think you'd freak out–”
“Sorry I freaked out? Nay,” you pout, “come on.”
She sighs and looks past you. You know he's still there but he won't look at her. You don't blame him. You're not the only she betrayed.
“You lied to me. About everything.”
“I had to–”
“Your parents never kicked you out, did they?” You interject. She winces, taken aback by your abruptness. “Tell me the truth.”
She drops her eyes and shrugs, “I couldn't stay–”
“Did they?” You ask quietly.
She clicks her tongue and stomps her heeled sandal, “no, okay? But I couldn't stay there. It doesn't change anything. Bucky's still an old creep–”
Bucky sniffs but says nothing. The tension roils around you as you're caught between them. You can't keep doing this. You have to choose. 
“Naomi,” Bucky rasps as he approaches, “I won't throw you out. I know you have no where else–”
You cross your arms as your spine goes rigid. She rolls her eyes again. How much has she had handed to her and spat back? She had somewhere to go, she has a dozen people who want her, but you're not one of them anymore.
“If she stays, I'm leaving,” you declare, “so better make up your mind, Nay.”
You sidestep her, nearly brushing against her as she lets out a pathetic noise. You don't look back as you charge across the room. You're done being lost, you'll go home and deal with that mess. You can't live by Naomi's rules anymore.
“You can't do this,” she whines, “you know he'll choose you.”
You don't listen. You scurry down the hall and into the guest room. You close the door and lean against it, breathless.
The scene unfurls in your mind. Only nights before, Naomi on top of Bucky, taunting him. She blames him but you heard it all. She was begging him and he said no.
You march to the nightstand and grab your bag. You don't have much to your name, only a car declaring you as scum. The thought of going back to your mom chills you but you could drive up to your dad's. He can't turn you away if you're already there, can he?
You shove your few possessions into the bag and whip open the door. You're an adult, you need to stop expecting others to take care of you. You'll just grab your phone and be gone.
As you come out, you find Bucky standing with his back to you. He leans on the wall, his arm bent as if he’s cradling his head. You peer around at the empty room.
“I'm going–”
“You too?” He asks softly.
“I think I should. I don't want to put her out–”
“She left,” he murmurs and lets out a hiss, “don't think she'll be back.”
“Why do you say that? Bucky, what's wrong?”
“If you're going, please just do it,” he begs.
His voice is barely more than a croak. Is he crying? You near him, leaning to the side as you try to get a glimpse of him. He shies away so you grab his arm. He lets you turn him as he drops his hand from his cheek.
There's a bright red welt on his cheek bone and a gash just below his eye. You gasp and drop your bag. He blinks his injured eye and turns his face away.
“What happened?” You squeak.
“She just… she was upset–”
“Naomi did this?” You gasp.
He chuckles then winces, “those shoes she wears, they always looked painful, just didn't think like that.”
“What? She hit you with her shoe?” You exclaim, searching around him.
“She's gone,” he assures you, “think she scared herself even.”
“Bucky,” you step closer, “I’m sorry.”
“Why are you apologising?” He gives a rocky laugh.
“I… it’s my fault, I shouldn’t have confronted her like that–”
“Not the first time,” he shakes his head, “definitely not your fault.”
“What?”
“Nothing, nothing, please. Don’t let me keep you. You need anything? Gas money?”
You take a breath and close your eyes. You feel worse leaving him like this. He says it’s not your fault but you can’t help but feel it is.
“Is… is it okay if I stay?” You flutter your lashes open.
“Only if you want to,” he tries to smile and once more reaches to his cheek.
“Oh, you need to get some ice on that,” you say.
“I look that bad?”
“I mean it, it’s swelling already,” you bend to pick up your bag and stride past him. 
You enter the kitchen and plunk your bag on the counter as you pass. You open the freezer and search around. You find a bag of frozen veggies and snatch the cloth from across the oven handle. You wrap up the cold package and turn to face Bucky as he shuffles in.
“Here,” you cross to him and hold out the icy packet.
He thanks you as he takes it and leans on the island, pressing it to his cheek. He groans as he plants his elbow. You smile nervously, unsure what to do next.
“Do you need Advil or something? Can I get you anything?” You offer.
“Please, please, I’m good,” he says, “you’ve done more than enough.” You can only see his one eye as the other is hidden behind the iced veggies, “you’re too sweet. Really.”
“I’m just doing what anyone would do,” you shrug.
“No, not anyone,” he assures you.
🏡
It’s hard to settle down for the night. The shadow of adrenaline follows you into the guest room and you try to close it out as the door clicks behind you. It’s the buzzing sensation of being overtired but slightly too addled to calm down.
You left Bucky in the living room. He seemed less than eager to turn in himself. Guilt nips at you but he insisted that you go to bed. It’s probably for the better. You assume he needs some time alone after a day like that.
You change into your pajamas and prop up your phone on the nightstand. You shut off the light and nestle into the fresh sheets, fragrant with fabric softener. Your nerves ease down as your eyes cling to the small screen glowing in the dark, the colours blurring together as your eyelids grow heavy.
You feel yourself sink into your subconscious. It’s a swirling black, turbulent but void. You feel like your swaying on a tide, rising and falling with a steady ebb and flow. From the shallowness that has you vaguely aware of the room to the deep sludge that makes your headache.
You wake with a start. You’re not sure what woke you but it’s completely black. Your phone doesn’t respond as you hit the home button. It’s dead.
You rub your eyes and yawn, feeling around for your glasses on the night table. You want to just roll over and fall back asleep but your bladder squeezes uncomfortably. You surrender and drag yourself from the bed.
You let yourself into the hall. The house is silent but a light glows still from down the hall. You cross the hall and dip into the bathroom. You take your time, your movement lazy with the dregs of your exhaustion.
You dry off your hands and go back into the hall. You stop and listen to the house. You hear something, a low, inconsistent noise. Something shuddering from the front room. You peek over at the guest  room door then back again.
It’s probably the wind or something. Bucky has to be asleep by now. You go into the front room and find it empty.
You go to turn off the light and let out a squeak of surprise. Bucky lays across the couch, his head propped against the armrest as he holds a whisky bottle against his chest.
“Hey, doll,” he slurs.
“Bucky,” you bat your lashes.
“What can I do for you, sweetheart?” He babbles before covering his mouth, stifling a belch.
“Are you… okay?” You inch closer and see how his head lolls.
“Fine,” he drones, his eye purplish blue as a large bump swells on his cheek, “I’m just… having a midnight snack.”
He wiggles the bottle and you glance over at the time digitally displayed under the television. You frown. It’s almost three in the morning. You cautiously edge along the couch, drawn by the onus of your own regretful drunken shame.
“It’s late,” you say as you stop beside him, “how about you save the rest?”
You grab the neck of the bottle and he clings to it a moment before letting it go. You nearly slosh it on yourself. You set it on the table behind you and face him again.
“I’m sorry,” he mopes, “I don’t drink… not alone.”
“It’s okay,” you assure him, “do you want some water?”
He closes his eyes, “please, I’m so embarrassed. I don’t want you to see me like this.”
“You know I won’t judge you. I was a bigger mess last night.”
He turns his head away from you. The difference between you and him is that you can’t just carry him off to his bed. You gently touch his arm and balance on the edge close to him, rubbing his shoulder.
“It’s okay to be sad about Naomi,” you coax.
He nods and keeps his face averted. You squeeze his arm, feeling the thick muscle of his bicep. The scent of alcohol ripples off of him.
“You still need to sleep though,” you say, “so why don’t you get up–”
He turns his head back suddenly and grabs your hand. There’s a desperate blaze behind his oceanic eyes. He clings to your tightly, “I’m not sad about her,” he garbles, “doll, I’m heartbroken…” he wiggles his nose as his eyes sparkle, “over you.”
“Bucky,” you murmur, “you're drunk.”
“I am,” he croons, “but I still feel the same. Doll, I only ever think of you.”
You sit there, speechless. You don’t know how to react. You want to chalk it up to whiskey and stress. You want to just get him to bed and pretend he never said it in the morning. Yet something else in you wants him more. You know you shouldn’t, but you do.
Even so, it can’t be like this.
“I… I like you, Bucky,” you slip your hand free of his and brush a shank of hair away from his forehead, “but I like you even more when you’re sober.”
“Mmmm,” he groans and drops his chin, “I’m sorry, doll.”
“Don’t be sorry,” you tap the tip of his nose, “just get up and go to bed. Sleep it off and we can talk in the morning.”
He nods and gulps thickly, “alright, doll. For you, I’ll do anything.”
He reaches up and braces the back of the couch. You stand as he pushes himself up, wobbling just slightly as he gets to his feet. You grab his arm, offering what little support you can. He smiles down at you and caresses your cheek as he sways.
“I’m dreaming, aren’t I?” He asks.
“Bed,” you remind him firmly.
322 notes · View notes
timidpumpkin · 1 year
Note
Can you do a stucky little reader? She wakes up sick ( flu symptoms) and they take care of her. Angst and fluff with cute nicknames. 🥺🥺❤️❤️
You had me at angst…and fluff…and cute nicknames…okay you had me at the whole thing🙈🙈💞💞heheh i hope you like it!! I set it in little light universe🫶🫶❤️💙❤️💙
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(pictures are not my own)
More Than Anything (Stucky x reader)
Pairing: Dark!Stucky x f!reader
Warnings/tags: Dark!Stucky, Daddy!Stucky, Female reader, Implied forced age regression, Sick reader, Meanie bucky, Implied reader has small hands in comparison because Stucky is gigantic (fact), Angst, Fluff, Comfort. Reader baby-talks as well, Lots o' cute nicknames.
Word count: 4.2k
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It hurts.
“Mornin’ Doll,” Bucky says after flipping your lights on. The illumination now burning your vision makes you pull the covers over your head as you flip over, hiding from the bright room. You hear him making his way to your bedside. The mattress beneath dips you sideways a bit as he sits beside your dormant form. 
“Come on now, time to get up.” he pulls lightly at the duvet covering you. He can tell you’re gripping it with all you can. Though he could easily unveil you, he decides against it, knowing that ripping the blanket from your delicately curled-up fingers might hurt them. Instead, he leans his body over yours, one hand placed on the other side of your hip as he hovers above you. He dips his head close to where yours is concealed by the warm blanket. “Don’t make me carry you down there,” he whispers teasingly, figuring it’s likely what you’re hoping for. 
Instead, you only groan in response, mumbling something about getting a little more sleep. It wasn’t an uncommon request from you, and Bucky knew how much babies needed their sleep. Usually, he would let it slide, loving how adorable you look in dreamland, but he can’t. Not this time. 
It was almost noon. He peers around your room. It’s not the cleanest, but it looks pristine compared to the current state of your playroom. He had asked you yesterday to clean it, noticing the myriad of toys and their respective accessories scattered across the carpeted floor.
You, preoccupied with dressing your doll so she could ‘go on vacation,’ promised him you’d do it after dinner. Bucky apprehensively agreed, and even let you fall through on your assigned chore after you quickly fell asleep on the couch, much before your usual bedtime. Figuring you played your little heart out, he carried you upstairs and told himself to remind you in the morning.
Having already slept almost twelve hours, he knows if he lets your slumber last any longer, you’ll never sleep tonight. He sighs.
“I know you want more babygirl, but Dada already made breakfast and lunch. You need to come eat,” he waits a few moments for you to respond, but you don’t let out a sound or groan. “I'm serious, Doll, time to get up,” he states, standing up, hoping it’ll prompt you to follow. You peel your sheets back to look at him.
“Daddy…” you whine, unsure of what you're asking for. All you knew is that it hurt. Everything. It wasn’t just that the lights were too bright. It wasn't just that you were sleepy. Your whole body felt…bad. Just bad. You couldn’t exactly explain it, but you did know that moving didn’t seem like it would help. 
Bucky only looks at you, unsatisfied. You try sitting up, which you find is more difficult than it should have been. Once you’re upright, you feel pressure in your head. Your cheeks and forehead feel as if there's unwanted gunk smooshed inside. It makes you want to lie back down immediately. 
“m’ tired daddy,” you say groggily. 
“That’s ‘cause you slept so much,” Bucky knew messing with your established sleep pattern too much would likely make you feel more cranky than it seemed you already were. So, as much as he knew you didn’t want to, he believed it would be for the best to make you get up.
As you start to get out of bed, it feels as though the air is made of thick jello with every movement you make.
“Daddyyy…ughhhh” you groan unhappily at him, and kick at your sheets frustrated that you’re being forced to move.
Bucky’s eyes narrow at your agitated action, never liking that kind of behavior from you.
“Don’t be that way, Doll. it’s too early for that,” he warns.
“Mmm,” you groan again. “noo, don’t wanna, wanna sleep!” you say crankily, flopping back down on the bed again with your arms crossed to prove your point. That point being: you. did. not. want. to. move.
Bucky rolls his eyes, and takes a deep breath, debating internally on how to approach your grouchiness. He decides, only since it’s so early—for you—that he’ll go easy on you, hoping this attitude will fade as you wake up. 
“No more sleep, but,” he leans down closer to you, “if you promise to be a good girl all day, Daddy will carry you down there.” he offers as a compromise.
Truthfully, you’d still rather lay in bed, but you knew you had to do what Daddy asked. More so, you didn’t want him to be upset with you, so you nod your head in agreement. 
“Okay, Daddy.”
“Okay daddy, what?” he questions.
“I-i’ll be good,” you say, having a hard time remembering what he asked. He slides his hands under you and begins to pick you up. Once you’re in his hold, you quickly let your head fall to his shoulder, wishing you could now sleep there instead.
“And you’ll eat your breakfast this morning?” he asks into your heavy head. You nod into his neck and mumble a ‘yes daddy’ assentingly.
Once he places you in your chair downstairs, Steve greets you with a bright smile, and a kiss to your forehead after setting down your food. When he does, he notices how hot your skin feels against his.
“You feel warm angel, you feel okay, babygirl?” he asks, gently checking the temperature of your cheeks with the back of his hand.  
“Oh, she just got up, she’s probably still warm from sleep,” Bucky answers before you get the chance to speak. “Somebody really didn’t want to get up this morning,” he pokes. 
“Ohh,” Steve coos, “you still sleepy, babygirl?” he asks. You shake your head weakly, eyes drifting closed. You think about telling him how bad you feel, but you don’t really have the energy to try to explain it.
Instead, you decide to focus on eating, hoping the sooner you finish, the quicker you can return to resting. However, the very first swallow of your otherwise pleasant meal scratches at your throat. You still try to get some down, thinking the pain will go away if you keep trying. When it becomes evident that won't be the case, you poke at your plate and begin to speak up.
“Daddy, m’done,” you push your plate away, “my thro-” 
“Uh-uh, a few more bites,” Bucky pushes the plate back in front of you, knowing you’ll never feel more awake with an empty stomach. “And after you finish, you can go clean your playroom,” You look at him puzzled.
“But-”
“No buts. I already asked you to do it yesterday,” he explains, not looking up from whatever he happened to be reading at the table with you. Your face twists in confusion for a few moments before you remember how tired you felt last night. Truthfully, the fatigue was all your body could focus on, making you completely forget about the room.
“But daddy-”
“What did I just say?” he looks up at you.
“I’m tired!” you snap at him, voice raised high and whiney as you bemoan at him. You cross your arms and huff grumpily back into the chair.
“I don’t care if you’re tired. Do what Daddy says, or you can say goodbye to your playroom for the next week” he threatens. Not wanting to get out of bed was one thing, but directly disobeying him with that attitude was another. 
Still, you only groan angrily in response, not feeling like you could do anything right now. 
“Ugh!” you flop your head down on the table dramatically, hiding between your arms. Bucky lets your stew there for a moment before speaking up.
“Are you gonna finish eating or not?” He asks eventually, eerily calm. You remain silent, unsure of what to say. “Fine, you can go clean your room now,” You look up to him at that, suddenly confused and disoriented. Surely your daddy should know how bad you feel. 
“But Daddy! I don't wanna now! I don't feel g-”
“Did I ask if you wanted to? I don’t care if you don't feel like it. Now. Or no playroom for a month.” your jaw drops, your muddled brain beyond baffled on why he’s being so harsh. Still, you know he means it. It wasn’t outside his usual punishment by any means. You almost think you should consider yourself lucky he hasn’t bent you over his knee already with how you’re fighting him.
Feeling defeated, you drag your body out of your chair. Before you can go, he grabs your arm with a warning.
“and quit with the attitude.” 
“Yes, Daddy” you squeak lamentably, noticing how your throat hurts as you speak.
You drag your feet upstairs, physically resisting your legs from stomping as you go. Anger and confusion mix together in you as you think about what he said. You didn’t want to be grounded from your playroom. So many of your favorite things were in there. And, again, more importantly, you didn't want to make daddy upset with you. You never liked it when he was. You always tried so hard to be a good girl for them. But right now, it was so hard. In actuality, what you wanted more than anything was for him to cuddle with you. You felt Daddy and Dada could always make you feel better. No matter what, you were convinced your Daddies loving embrace could cure you from any ailment. 
Maybe, you think, if you just cleaned your room like a good girl, you could ask to cuddle with him after. 
You try your hardest to ignore the pain that ignites at every move you make, but truthfully, you're already abnormally out of breath just from your quick walk up the stairs. The room feels uncomfortably chilly against your skin. 
After you get a small portion of the floor cleared, you decide to take a little break. You practically collapse beneath yourself, curling underneath the cozy play tent filled with askew fluffy pillows and dismayed blankets. You shut your eyes and tell yourself you’ll only rest for a few minutes…
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“Angel?” Steve's voice echoes back at him from the loft balcony where you should easily be able to pick up his voice. He can’t hear you moving around. “Are you sure she’s in there?” he asks Bucky.
“She better. It’s where I told her to be.” he retorts disdainfully, hoping you're not again disobeying him by being somewhere else. 
Steve stills himself, and listens closely, he can tell you’re there, but your breathing doesn’t sound normal. 
Concerned, he makes his way upstairs. Bucky follows, recognizing Steve’s ‘something’s wrong’ face. 
Steve panics for a brief moment when he enters the empty but disarrayed room. Then he spots you. Your delicate form hidden amongst haphazardly arranged fabrics. He approaches you slowly, not wanting to startle you. 
He kneels down, overshadowing you as he gently caresses your cheek to wake you. 
“Babygirl?” he calls softly. Puffs of hot air escape your mouth. Labored breathing is all he can hear. All they can both hear. 
“Babygirl,” he calls again, shaking you slightly. To his relief, your eyes slowly open. They look sunken, tired, and devoid of their usual playful sparkle. 
“Dada…?” you question quietly. “m’cold” your murmur softly, eyes begging to be closed again. 
You’re not cold though. Not to Steve. You feel a million degrees too hot under his touch. 
“Babygirl…” he says for the third time, this time preparing to move you. “Dada’s gonna pick you up okay?” he explains, remaining calm so as to not worry you. “We're gonna go downstairs,” you feel limp in his arms, no different than if you were deep in sleep. But you are certainly awake, even if barely. He mumbles something to Bucky you don't make out, but his tone alone tells you he’s not happy.
Once you’re downstairs, he sets you on the kitchen counter. You don’t let go of him though, your body weight is leaned almost fully onto his.
“Can you sit up for me, babygirl?” he asks encouragingly, but gently. “Daddy and I are gonna check you out okay?” you groan a bit, still just feeling tired. 
“Here,” Bucky speaks up softly, snaking his arms around you, and taking Steve’s place in front of you. As you’re shifted from one body’s hold to another, it wakens you a bit. You almost go back to leaning fully onto his chest when you realize who’s holding you.
“Daddy?” you shift back a little to look up at him. One hand of his is resting at your hip, the other helping support the rest of your body.
“Hey, babydoll…” he says softly, voice drifting, and stomach sinking as he sees how sick you look.
He almost wishes he could somehow shut his hearing out. Your heartbeat is quicker than usual. He knew it better than his own. How it sounded while you slept, when you’d play, how it picks up when you laugh, giggling for breath and telling him ‘daddy, stop it tickles’ with the brightest grin lighting up your face. Now…now he can’t stand it. It’s thumping too fast. Faster than it should be for when his little girl hasn’t moved an inch herself. 
Why didn’t he notice it before? He thinks back to how heavily you held onto him when he carried you this morning. How quickly he was to interrupt you. He realizes you probably tried to tell him. And he didn’t listen. Even worse, he made you clean. Guilt seeps deep into his guts as he remembers how funny your voice sounded today. 
“Daddy,” you break him from his thoughts, he sees tears beginning to form in your doleful eyes. “Daddy m’sorry,” you breathe in sharply, beginning to cry “m’sorry didn't f-finish-i just-i gots so tireds daddy I’m-I'm sorry,” you sob pathetically, knowing you’ve disappointed him. 
Bucky’s face falls. 
All you had to do was one simple thing, and you couldn't even do that right. You weren’t being a good girl by disobeying him like that. Even if you felt bad, you feel you should have tried harder.
“Doll, no-” you cry sorries to him more, your own hands reaching to cover your shameful face. He catches them before you do, gently taking them into his and guiding them around his neck for you so you can be more level with his gaze. “Babydoll, look at daddy,” He pulls you, hands drawing you closer so he’s flush with you in between your legs. Needing to feel your skin, his right hand tenderly guides your face to look at him. “I’m not upset with you. Daddy’s not upset with you,” he reassures, silently pleading for you not to cry. 
“But-but-I didn’t cleans-I-I just-I-I not good girl,” you sob miserably at the admission, never wanting to be bad for him.
“My little girl, my sweet girl, no, please no” he assures, hating how skewed shut your eyes are. “That’s not true, Doll, it’s just not. Daddy…” he carefully wipes at the wet tears on your cheek, “Daddy should have known.” he admits shamefully. You finally blink your eyes open at him, a timidly unsure expression written on your face. “I should have known. You...you tried to tell daddy huh?” he takes one of your hands and gives it soft kisses. 
“N-n’your not mad at me?” you sniffle as your cries begin to slow down.
“No, Doll, never.” he couldn’t be, never for something like this. His mouth opens again, he wants to tell you how sorry he is. He’s the one who should be, but he only finds his own tongue twisted, unsure of how to fully express his remorse. Before he has time to puzzle the words together, Steve interrupts, thermometer in hand.
“Open wide, babygirl,” you do as he says. “tongue up,” he mimics the motion for you. The cold metal feels uncomfortable in your mouth. They must know this as Bucky squeezes your hand soothingly, and Steve tells you ‘just a little longer’ with a sympathetic gaze as he holds your jaw with the hand that’s not keeping the thermometer in place. 
When it beeps, Steve removes it and frowns when he reads the displayed numbers. 
“Can you tell us what hurts, princess?” Steve asks. You point your hand towards your neck. “Your throat?” he confirms, and you nod your head. “What else babygirl?” you then squeeze your eyes together, remembering how squished your brain feels.
“Head,” you mumble quietly, before crossing and rubbing your arms together in discomfort. “Everything.”
“Your body hurts? Feels sore?” He asks. You nod your head weakly at him, closing your eyes and wishing you could be laying down right now. Even just sitting somewhat upright felt hard at the moment. 
“Okay babygirl, why don’t you let Daddy take you to the bedroom,” Steve suggests. “I’ll be there in just a minute.” he smiles at you comfortingly, before placing a kiss on your forehead with his hand cradling the back of your head. 
“m’I sick?” you ask Bucky as he carries you to their room.
“Yeah, but it’s okay, Dada and I will help you feel better,” he carefully sets you on their large bed. 
It's soft. Yours is soft too, but Daddies always felt so much softer for some reason. Maybe it’s because you got to sleep next to your favorite people. He arranges the pillows and blankets around you to make you more comfortable, then slides next to you. You rest your head on his chest, almost instantly falling asleep again. 
Some time passes, particularly how much time is beyond you. All you knew in this moment, is how comfy Daddy felt.
After some time, Steve’s voice brings you back to reality. He instructs you to sit more upright so he can give you medicine. 
The odd color liquid he brings toward you makes you cringe. You can tell just from looks how bitter and unpleasant it will taste. You recoil into bucky, small hands gripping at the buttons of his shirt as you whine.
“Daddyyy…” you tug on Bucky's shirt more, trying to force your head into his flannel to hide from Steve and his icky medicine, practically begging Bucky to not make Steve give it to you.
“Doll,” Bucky chuckles a bit at your attempt to hide inside his outer shirt. He still holds you close, hands supporting you on your bottom as you have now completely crawled on top of him.
“Angel…you know I can still see you…right?” Steve teases.
“No you can’ts…m’not here” you proclaim, muffled into Bucky’s chest.
“The sooner you take it, the sooner it will be over, come on princess.” Steve encourages. You’re still not convinced and instead mumble out one word: ‘pill.’
For a second, Steve isn’t sure if he understood you correctly before his lips tighten with a displeased look on his face. 
You’ve had this conversation before. He thought surely by now you understood it, but he figured since you’re sick, it might be hard for your little head to remember. 
“Sweet girl, babies can’t take pills, you know that.” Steve explains patiently. You did know that. It was early on when Steve refused to let you take any medication you needed through a pill. It didn't matter what you needed, he was always able to find a way to get a liquid version of it from Uncle Bruce. Or, as you like to think, a much yuckier version of it. 
Still, you groan in disagreement, not wanting to taste something that bad, let alone when your throat hurt as much as it did. 
“Doll,” Bucky speaks up. “I know you don’t want to, but it’ll make you feel so much better.”
You shake your head against his chest, disagreeing with both of your daddies now. 
“it’s yucky dough daddy,” you whine.
“I know it’s yucky, babydoll,” Bucky pats at your back comfortingly while he thinks. He knows how hard this is for you, especially when you feel so bad. “Hey,” he peels you back from him a bit, unburying you from his shirt as he has an idea. “Look,”  he instructs, “Here,” he takes the small cap of medicine from Steve’s hands and–to your horror–throws it back in his mouth. You look at him in horror as the icky liquid disappears from the cap into Bucky's mouth. You stare at him wildly. 
Daddy’s crazy, you think.
“There. See? Daddy took it. It’s not so bad.” Bucky says nonchalantly in an attempt to convenience you. He hands the empty cap back to Steve so he can refill it. Steve shares your look of bewilderment, before you can't help but break out a smile at his action.  
“Daddy,” you giggle at him.
“What?” He fakes surprise. “Daddy took it, so you can too.” he assures happily, taking the now filled-again cap from Steve. Still, you recoil from it a bit. 
“Yeah…” you look between him and the medicine suspiciously. “but daddy also drinks other yucky stuffs,” you defend, referring to the strong-smelling caramel-colored stuff he likes to drink sometimes. Daddy never lets you have that. 
Bucky chuckles a bit when he realizes what you meant. 
“Okay, true…and little baby definitely can’t have that stuff…” he says pointedly. “but this,” he gestures the cap towards you. “you have to take.” You look between him and Steve warily. 
“Please angel, I know you can do it. Do it for Daddy and Dada princess,” Steve encourages. You agree this time, mentally pepping yourself up and telling yourself if daddy could do it, so could you. 
You scrunch your eyes closed as Bucky brings it closer to your lips. You feel Steve’s hands reach down to hold your face. One hand holding your jaw up firmly, with the other around the back of your head. This way, you aren't able to move should you change your mind. Steve knew you’d be a good girl and take it, but he always had to be sure just in case–not unlike what has happened before–you decide to spit it out.
When it hits your tongue, it’s just as yucky as you had imagined. Maybe even worse. Instinctively, your face contorts in displeasure as you squirm around from the gross sensation. 
Steve and Bucky hold you firmly in place the whole time and instruct you to swallow. 
Once you do, Steve asks you to open your mouth for him, just to make sure you really swallowed it all.
“Good girl, my brave little girl. I knew you could do it.” Steve praises you. “Dada’s so proud of you.” he beams at you, making you smile. 
“Daddy proud too?” you ask shyly to Bucky.
“Super proud doll. The proudest of them all.” he winks at you, making you giggle a little bit, but it tickles your throat, causing you to start having a coughing fit. 
Bucky brings a sippy on their nightstand to your lips and lets you drink some cold water. It helps calm your throat. 
Steve asks if there’s anything else you want right now. You ask for some juice in your favorite sippy, and he lets you know he’ll bring it after he’s done making some soup for you.
Bucky gets out of the bed, making you confused. You promptly grab at his hands. 
“Where going?” you look up to him, eyes big and sad. 
“I was just gonna go help Dada, why don’t you get some rest, Doll?” He says, knowing it’s what you need most right now. To his surprise though, you don’t let go.
“Nooo,” you say, tugging feebly at his hands. “Stay…wanna…can…cuddle daddy?” you ask bashfully, suddenly feeling shy. 
Bucky’s eyes turn soft. Soft. Just like his little girl. Soft. Like how your voice always sounded. Soft. Something, an emotion, a feeling, a sensation, that only you made him experience. 
Even after he made you clean your playroom, even after he snapped at you and didn’t listen, you still asked in your softest voice, doleful eyes, and small grabby hands if he would cuddle with you. Sometimes–he’s not sure what he did to deserve you. 
“Of course, princess,” he climbs back into the bed with you and you grin happily as you curl yourself around him just like before. He suggests again that you to get some rest, but that too comes with protest. 
“Wanna watch ‘toons wif Daddy…can we’s?” you ask. Bucky smiles to himself and kisses your head. Even though he knows you’ll likely fall fast asleep no more than five minutes into it, there’s nothing more he’d like more than watch shows with his little girl
He turns on your favorite show and makes sure you’re perfectly comfortable, tucked around him and under blankets. 
“Doll?” he whispers softly after a few minutes. To his surprise, you’re still awake. You mumble a questioning ‘hmm?’ he takes a few seconds to respond, trying to gather the words correctly for you. He breathes in. 
“I’m sorry Daddy didn’t listen earlier,” he admits, lips ghosting the top of your head, before placing a kiss there. “I should have listened.”
“It’s okies Daddy,” you hum sleepily into his chest. It wasn’t okay. He knew that. But you—you and your never-ending soft and kind heart—forgave him. And that’s all that mattered to him. He truly was more than lucky to have a little girl like you.
“I love you Daddy,” you squeeze him softly, voice quiet. And even though he can’t see you, he knows you're smiling when you say it. 
“I love you, Doll.” more than anything.
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steves-sub · 9 months
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Prologue
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Summary: Steve comes up with an idea
Warning(s): Dark!Team Cap (Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, Sam Wilson, Wanda Maximoff, Natasha Romanoff), MINOR DNI, Drinking, Implied non-con, and kidnapping. 
WC: 312 (I promise these will be longer)
Taglist; @marvel-fandom23
Since the events in Germany, Steve Rogers has been hiding out in the cabin with Sam Wilson, Bucky Barnes, Natasha Romanoff, and Wanda Maximoff. On the run from the law, they only had each other to rely on. Since then, nothing has happened with his sexual life. Due to the fact that everyone there was a Dom, he couldn't turn to his teammates for assistance. So while sitting with the rest of the team outside, Steve decided to propose an idea. 
"So, I've been thinking recently," he said to the group of people around him. “Anyone else been extremely horny?” He questioned as he took a sip of his beer. In response, Bucky offered a chuckle, "If you are proposing what I think you are, I’m out.” Sam agreed, "No way." Steve realized his mistake and stopped them. "Oh no, not like that.” 
“So what are you thinking then, Captain?” Natasha asked as she crossed her legs. “Look, we've been stuck in the cabin for a while. It doesn't seem like we're getting out anytime soon. So," he paused, "how about bringing someone in to help us?" Wanda looked at him with a questioning face, “Like a stripper?” He laughed at her answer with a smirk. “I was thinking of a more permanent solution.”
Suddenly, the only sound they heard was the cackling of the fire they sat around. Steve knew this was a big proposition. Bucky was the first to speak. “If we do it, how do we go about it?” He spoke as he twisted the top off the beer with his metal arm. “We can figure that out together, but I think that we all need to meet the person before we take them,” Steve responded. “Sounds like you already have someone in mind,” Natasha smirked.
Steve let out an exhale, “I got the perfect little sunflower for us.”
PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF YOU HAVE ANY IDEAS FOR THIS SERIES!! Would love input
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straywords · 1 year
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In The Mountains - Masterlist
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Dark! Steve Rogers x Reader x Dark! Bucky Barnes
Your vacation with your friends at a Swiss chalet is disrupted by your fateful encounter with two strangers.
Warnings: N0N-C0N, unhealthy friendships, loss of virginity, kidnapping
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Kisses and Chocolates (Valentine’s day drabble)
Bucky and Steve’s POV
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I do not have a taglist but you can follow @straytales to keep up with my updates.
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marvelvillian23 · 28 days
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PLEASE!! I need fics rec for all of these! Especially the Convict. Please be multi Chapter fics.
It even can be Steve in these situations instead of Bucky I don’t mind.
*Photos From Pinterest
I’m currently reading Blood Moon Rising on AO3 by Sarahyellow.
It’s a A/B/O prison story where Bucky’s the convict and pre serum Steve is the prison counselor…I think. A riot breaks out and Bucky takes Steve hostage. 5/8 Chapters are up so far.
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evansbby · 11 months
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𝐃𝐫𝐢𝐟𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐅𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐀𝐰𝐚𝐲 (𝐏𝐎𝐘𝐓 𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐧-𝐨𝐟𝐟)
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𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: alpha!Bucky Barnes x naive omega!Reader, also featuring: dark alpha!Steve Rogers
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Misogyny, a/b/o dynamics, dubcon, dark Steve, poyt!Steve (yes, he is a warning), mentions of smutt, 18+ minors dni.
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: It’s your first day at college and Bucky, a popular alpha, asks for your number. (This is a spin-off of my fic Preying on You Tonight, exploring what would have happened if Bucky had gotten to omega before Steve. You do not need to read that fic to understand this one).
𝐀/𝐍: It’s finally here! As the writer, all I sincerely ask is for you to read it till the end. I put a lot of hard work into this and it’s been a long time coming. I really hope you give this fic a chance, and I hope you enjoy! This is 16.8k words.
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It’s gonna be okay, it’s gonna be okay, it’s gonna be okay. You quietly chant under your breath as you make your way into the intimidatingly large lecture hall. World Politics. It’s a senior class, mostly males, majority alphas. But you’ve managed to get in – the only freshman who was accepted – and it makes your heart flutter with excitement. Maybe they’ll all be impressed, you think to yourself, clutching your bookbag tightly as you make your way inside.
Everyone’s already sat down or milling about in groups. You shoot a few smiles here and there, hoping someone might smile back – but everyone seems busy catching up with their own friends. You sigh – of course, you don’t expect to make friends right away. But you probably will soon.
There’s a pack of intimidating looking guys in the back of the room, they draw your attention because of how loud they’re being as they laugh and joke around. Football players, you think to yourself – they’re all wearing blue jerseys with the university emblem. And they’re all so big and broad. There’s a blond one who seems bigger and scarier than all of them, and there’s also a brunet – also big and intimidating but he looks slightly more laid back than the others.
You snap your head away as soon as he looks in your direction, feeling your cheeks heat up. You’re confident you’ll make friends, but it probably won’t be anyone from the resident campus jock group. Not wasting any more time, you make your way to the front of the lecture hall and take a seat in the very first row. Hopefully, someone else would join you and you could strike up a conversation.
You’re arranging your pens in colour order when your phone vibrates.
Peter: Good luck, babe! I know first days can be hard, but you’re gonna smash it! See you tonight!
Smiling softly, you text your boyfriend a quick response before putting your phone away – the lecture is about to start and you don’t want to miss a single word.
A chorus of loud snickers makes you look back over your shoulder. It’s the group of jock alphas – they’re only a couple of rows behind you now, laughing over something while they look in your direction. You suddenly feel self-conscious, looking over your hoodie for any stains, eyes scanning around your vicinity for anything remotely funny.
You’ve just given up and gone back to opening your notebook when you feel a tap on your shoulder. It’s the brunet alpha, he’s standing next to your desk with a cocky smile on his face.
“Hey, newbie.”
You smile shyly, “Hi.”
“YOU’RE SUCH A DOG, BARNES!” One of the alpha jocks hoots from the back and all the rest of the pack guffaws too, some even making barking sounds. It causes the smile to freeze on your face.
The brunet laughs in his friends’ direction before turning back to you, “Ignore them. You a transfer student or something?”
“No. I’m a freshman. This is my first day.”
“Freshman, huh?” He licks his lips. He’s got nice lips; you think to yourself before inwardly shaking your head in alarm. You have a boyfriend, you remind yourself. But the brunet in front of you also has nice eyes, you can’t help but notice. Light blue and shining, along with scruffy brown hair and a smattering of facial hair. “What’s a little freshman like you doing here? You realise this is a senior class? Are you lost, newbie?”
“No, not lost, I’m meant to be here.” You tell him firmly, “I was interested in this class so I applied for it. I was the only freshman to be accepted.” You hope it doesn’t sound like you’re boasting, you can’t help but feel proud about it.
The brunet nods thoughtfully, “No kidding. You must be very smart.”
You shrug modestly.
“What’s your name, newbie?”
You tell him and he nods, repeating it to himself slowly as if he’s savouring the word.
“I’m James.” He says, “I mean, everyone calls me Bucky but you can call me James.”
You giggle nervously, “Wh-Why do I get to call you that?”
His smile is lop-sided and lazy, and you can’t help but stare. It brightens up his whole face, painting an image of mischief across his features. But he’s not intimidating, not like his friends who continue to hoot and yell behind him. You feel fire on your cheeks because he looks kind of… cute.
Wait. What?
“Pretty girls like you are allowed to call me James.”
The professor chooses that moment to clear his throat as he begins to start up the PowerPoint presentation.
“Well, anyways, newbie. I just came over to say hello. And while I’m here, I was wondering if I could borrow a pen. I forgot mine and you seem to have… a lot.” He gestures to your collection of pens – you have one in just about every colour of the rainbow.
You nod eagerly – you hadn’t expected an alpha jock to be the first one to speak to you at college, but you weren’t complaining.
“Sure! Take your pick,” You say enthusiastically “The blue one doesn’t work too well, but the rest are all good! If you prefer ink pens over ballpoint, I’ve got those too!”
“What about this pink one?”
“Oh,” Your response is less than enthusiastic, “I mean… I always use the pink one. But if you really want it–”
He laughs, reaching out and patting your hand softly. And the touch, despite being seemingly innocuous, sends thrills up and down your spine. You can’t help but think how much bigger his hand is than yours.
“That’s alright, sweetheart. You use the pink one. I’ll take this one instead.” He grabs a green pen, and that’s when you get a strong whiff of his scent. Smoky yet dewy – like a cosy fireplace on a winter morning. Fresh like snow mixing with the earth, like cold rain mingling with a special kind of musk.
Bucky seems to notice how you suddenly pause, your nose twitching as you repeatedly inhale his scent. He chuckles softly, waving a hand in front of your face, “Hey, you still there?”
You shake your head, giving yourself a moment to gather yourself before looking up at him, “Yeah, uh. Yeah, I’m here.”
“Good. Because the lecture’s about to start, and you look like someone who doesn’t want to miss a word.” He winks, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t send shivers of excitement up and down your spine, “Well, thanks for the pen, newbie.”
And then he goes back to join his friends, leaving you with a lightness in your heart, a spark in your eyes and a smile on your lips. You’d always thought jocks were mean, but Bucky – James – had been nice. Maybe it was a sign, a sign that your first year of university perhaps wouldn’t be as daunting as you originally thought.
You risk a glance back at him. He’s sat a few rows behind you, next to his blond friend. The two couldn’t be more different – with Bucky sitting back, relaxed and laughing, the pen you gave him dangling out of his mouth like a cigarette. The blond sits up straight with rigid posture, and he looks sullen, a touch of a scowl on his face as he looks at Bucky. And then he turns, piercing blue eyes glaring right at you.
You turn back to look in front. That can’t be right. This blond jock doesn’t even know you. Sighing, you begin to take notes, the world of politics taking over as you excitably fill page after page.
You’re immensely satisfied when the class ends – it was everything you wanted it to be and more. With the risk of sounding like a nerd – and you are a nerd, you’ll happily admit it – you’d enjoyed every second of the lecture, soaking in every word like a sponge. If this is what all university classes were going to be like, you’d stay forever.
“You look happy, newbie.” It’s Bucky again; the rest of his group is milling around by the exit, and you can’t deny the thrill you feel at the fact that he hung back with you.
“I am happy, wasn’t that just the most fascinating lecture ever? I mean, I’d heard things about this professor, that he’s so mesmerising to listen to. And it’s true!” You sigh almost dreamily, hugging your fresh notes close to your chest, “I feel like I’ve learnt more in this past hour than I did in the entirety of my high school history class.”
Bucky just stares at you, a smile on his face that reaches all the way up, making the sides of his eyes crinkle.
“What?” You ask consciously when he continues to just… look at you.
“Nothing. You’re just very cute, all bright-eyed and enthusiastic. Not like us jaded seniors.”
“BUCKY, LET’S GO.” As if on cue, the blond alpha bellows across the lecture hall.
Bucky seems wholly unperturbed, even as you jump from the loudness of the blonde’s tone.
“Your friend’s calling you,” You shuffle from one foot to the other, unable to ignore how the blond alpha is glaring at the pair of you all the way from the doorway, “He seems really impatient.”
With a wave of his hand, Bucky dismisses this claim, “Oh, don’t mind Steve. He’s just pissy these days because his girlfriend’s being a bitch.”
Oh. You have no idea what to say to that, so you just continue to pack up your things.
“So, what are your plans for the rest of the day?”
“I’m gonna head over to the library,” You answer excitedly, “I’ve heard it’s really, really big. One of the biggest in the country. I got a glimpse of it during orientation, but I’ve got the rest of the day free so today I’m gonna sit in there and catch up on some reading, and may–”
“Why don’t I walk you there?” The brunet offers. And it’s his quiet confidence that gets to you, the way he’s got this small smile on his face, as if he knows you won’t refuse him, “I have a class in that direction anyways. Steve does too. We could both walk you there.”
You glance once more at Steve, who – believe it or not – is still glaring at you. Or are you imagining it? You’re about to respond when a tall blonde girl in a cheerleading uniform skips up to him. They kiss, and then leave the lecture hall hand-in-hand. You turn back to Bucky, who shrugs.
“Well. Scratch that. I guess it’s just you and me then, newbie. C’mon. I’ll give you a campus tour.”
Talking with Bucky is surprisingly simple. He’s easy-going and laidback, completely cool in the way he makes conversation. Talking about himself but at the same time asking you questions about your life. You’ve always been shy but you find yourself at ease with him, you find yourself laughing at his jokes… You even catch yourself staring at him more than a few times, completely captured by his pretty eyes and lazy smile.
“I’m mostly friends with everyone on the football team, but Steve’s my best friend,” He nods at the blond alpha who’s walking a few paces ahead of you two, hand-in-hand with the cheerleader who you assume is his girlfriend. “We’ve known each other since we were kids. And then there’s Sam, but he’s hungover so he didn’t come in today.” Bucky’s eyes crinkle as he laughs, “Classic Sam.
The walk to the library is over a little too soon.
“Well, I guess I’ll see you in the next lecture. Thanks for walking with me.” You say, backing away but not wanting to completely leave just yet.
“Princess, wait.” He grabs your hand, yanking you back till you’re only a few inches away from him. And maybe it’s the shock due to the fact that he called you princess, but you just… let him do it. He grins down at you.
“You’re not gonna leave without giving me your number first, are you?”
You giggle nervously, and you’re surprised that you have to swallow down the words ‘yes, I’ll give you my number’ which are on the tip of your tongue. Instead, you shake your head slowly, “I, uh, I have a boyfriend.”
The alpha blinks, hand freezing midway through running through his hair. But then he relaxes, and that familiar lazy smile returns to his face. “So? Can’t friends save each other’s numbers? We’re friends now, aren’t we?”
You feel heat rising up your neck and spreading to your cheeks, “Oh. Of course. I guess we are. Sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed–”
“No worries, princess.” He takes your phone, quickly putting in his number and texting himself from yours before handing it back to you. “Your boyfriend’s a lucky guy, by the way. But I’m sure he won’t mind if I text you tonight, right?”
Bucky doesn’t wait for an answer, instead just winking at you before taking off. And you stand outside the steps of the library and watch him for a second. He catches up with Steve and gives him a hard thump on the back before falling into step next to him. Steve still has a scowl on his face but it slowly dissipates, and you watch for a moment as the two alphas talk animatedly. Even if Bucky hadn’t told you earlier, it was clear as day that the they were best friends.
It takes you a while to realise that you’re staring, and you quickly retreat into the library, the magical pull of books and knowledge sucking you in and making you forget about everything else.
***
“I’d say it was a good first day, as far as first days go.” You deduce, walking into the living room with a bowl of popcorn in your hands. You hand it over to Peter, who’s scrolling through Netflix in search of the perfect movie. Which is an impossible task since the two of you had seen practically everything Netflix had to offer – you guys had more movie nights then you did date nights. Actually, you can’t remember the last time you and Peter had gone out on a date. The thought seemed weird… you were much more comfortable sitting on the couch and gorging on popcorn and talking the night away with him – like you were right now.
“That’s good. Did you make any friends?”
You think back to Bucky’s twinkling blue eyes and feel a jolt of electricity run through you. Bucky was your friend, right? He’d said so. But for reasons you don’t quite understand, you only clear your throat and shake your head. “No. I talked to a few people but that’s all. I mean, it’s only day one, right? Nobody makes friends on day one.”
“True.” Peter agrees, his mouth full of popcorn. “Okay, so, I’m thinking it’s a teen dystopian movie kind of night. Hunger Games or Divergent?”
Your brow furrows while you think, “I don’t like Divergent and I’ve seen The Hunger Games way too many times.”
“Okay, how about Catching Fire?”
“The ending of that one makes me sad.”
You bicker back and forth before settling down with Alice in Wonderland, and the popcorn is half finished by the time the beginning credits start rolling. And that’s when your phone vibrates.
James: Hey, princess. You busy?
A smile touches your lips before you cast a quick glance at Peter. He’s half laid down on the other end of the couch with his eyes locked on the screen. You swallow down the guilt – you know Bucky is just your friend but it still feels kind of wrong to be texting him when you’re meant to be watching a movie with Peter. But there’s a large part of you that wants to answer, and it doesn’t take long for that part of you to win the inner conflict inside your head. You quickly text back:
You: Hey! I’m currently watching a movie with my boyfriend.
Your text is truthful, but you hope Bucky doesn’t think you’re dismissing him. His reply is almost instantaneous:
James: Aw, how cute. What movie is it?
You: Alice in Wonderland. Have you seen it?
You mentally kick yourself after you press send. What a dumb question – of course he’s seen it! Who hasn’t seen one of the most recognisable Disney movies of the last decade?
James: I have. I didn’t know you were such a big fan of cartoons, princess.
You feel the ends of your mouth tugging into a smile before you give Peter another glance. He’s polishing off the last of the popcorn, engrossed in Alice as she tumbles down the rabbit hole. You grab the empty bowl and stand up. “I’ll go make some more popcorn.”
Peter nods, “You want me to pause it?”
“No, that’s alright.”
You float into the kitchen and put another bag of popcorn in the microwave before taking a deep breath and looking down at your phone again.
James: Maybe we could watch a movie sometime? I’ve got a flatscreen in my room ;)
You feel a shiver go down your spine when you read his text, and you let yourself imagine it for a split second. Watching a movie with Bucky. In his bedroom. On his bed? You’d never been to a boy’s room before – except Peter, but he’d been your best friend all through high-school. Sure, he was your boyfriend now but you always do the same things you guys did when you were friends – just with added kissing and sometimes touching.
“Babe, you done?” Peter calls for you as if on cue.
Once more awash with guilt, you quickly type out a text:
You: I’m sorry, I should get back to the movie. Good night :)
You switch your phone off for the rest of the night, trying to focus on Alice’s adventures in wonderland, but the thought of Bucky dwindles at the back of your mind as if it’s there to stay.
***
You plan on avoiding Bucky the next day but that proves to be an extremely flimsy plan. You’re sitting in the front row when him and Steve and another guy – you assume it’s Sam – walk in. You get a pleasant whiff of Bucky’s scent before it’s overpowered by something stronger – the smell of firewood and a hot summer day. They walk by you, with Bucky giving you a small smile and a wink and Steve sucking in a breath, his nostrils twitching as he walks past you. Strange. What was his problem?
You still feel guilty about the previous night. Peter was your first ever relationship so you might not be the biggest expert on these types of things, but you’re sure that getting giddy over another guy texting you is not good girlfriend behaviour. You need to put a swift stop to it, starting now. You spend the rest of the lecture taking notes diligently, stuffing the thought of Bucky to the back of your mind.
When the class ends, you try to scurry away to the library. But you don’t get too far down the corridor before a hand encloses around your wrist and tugs you back.
“Princess, wait up. Where are you hurrying off to?”
“I – uh – I need to go to the library to print something.”
Bucky raises an eyebrow, “I’ll walk you.”
“Oh no, that’s okay.”
He looks at you for a handful of seconds before sighing and taking a step back, “This is about last night, isn’t it? My texts scared you off?”
You bite your lip, “James, I have a boyfriend.”
“I know, I know.” He runs a hand through his messy brown hair, shifting from one foot to the other before those icy blue eyes settle on you again. “I’ll be honest, princess. You’re so pretty, I thought I’d shoot my shot anyways.”
Your jaw drops, “B-But I have a boyfriend.”
He shrugs, looking virile and handsome with his facial hair and lazy smile, “That’s never stopped me before. I mean, it’s not really a big thing with me and my friends. If we want a girl, we go after her, boyfriend or not, it doesn’t matter to us.”
“Oh.” You don’t know whether to stay or just leave, and you’re debating over just that when Bucky pipes up again.
“Look, princess. I like you. And I have a hunch that you like me too. And as I said before, I usually don’t care if the girl I like has a boyfriend. But you’re different, I want to do right by you.” He strokes the palm of your hand with his thumb and it’s like you’re mesmerised by the feeling. “I’d really like to take you out sometime. But I can give you time to break up with your boyfriend first.”
You gasp, pulling your hand out of his grasp, “James Barnes! That’s so wrong. You know how awful of a person that would make me? And I barely know you!”
“Just think about it. I really like you.” He says earnestly, blue eyes sparkling and locking with yours as he grabs your hand again, “And breaking up with him will spare this guy the embarrassment of being with a girl who’s no longer into him.”
Your jaw drops open at his audacity, “That’s not true–!”
“Bucky, we have practice.”
Steve rounds the corner, stopping short when he sees the two of you so close, his eyes narrowing as they zero in on your intertwined hands.
“Gimme a sec.” Bucky answers, not even sparing Steve a glance, eyes unblinking as they stare at you meaningfully.
For the second time, you snatch your hand out of his grip. “I-I – uh – I have to go!” You do the easiest thing you can think of, backing away and getting the hell out of there. Bucky’s just dropped a huge bomb on you and Steve’s intimidating as hell, so you deem it best to put some distance between you and the two alphas as you speed-walk away from the situation.
“Why are you talking to that trashy omega?” You hear Steve mutter as you turn your back on them, and the hurtful words make your heart jolt.
“Hey, don’t call her that.” Bucky answers, and that’s the last thing you hear before you round the corner and escape into the comforting clutches of the campus library.
***
So, Bucky liked you. He liked you. As in, he wanted to take you out on a date. This information has you feeling giddier than it should. You’ve never known anyone to like you like that (except Peter) and never so brazenly. You can’t help but feel all light inside. A popular, handsome senior liked you!
But then, the flowy lightness inside you is overtaken by wracks of guilt, showering down on your heart like hard, jagged rocks. You’re with Peter. You like Peter. You can’t get happy over Bucky liking you when you’re with Peter. That’s just a fact.
You lay low for a couple of weeks, avoiding Bucky like he’s the plague. But you know his eyes are on you, glued to the back of your head during every lecture, when you keep your face pointedly facing forward and never look back at him. You can’t. You’re in a relationship. You have to respect it.
But then, things take a different turn than you ever expected them to.
Peter scores an internship at Stark Industries, which means he has to move to New York immediately. And you’re so happy for him, it’s what he’s been working towards and dreaming of for as long as you’ve known him. His goal of tackling the tech world is similar to your own goal of being the first person in your family to earn a university degree. You’re thrilled for him. But sitting on his bed and wistfully watching him pack, it’s like you both know what this means.
The break-up is mutual. Peter says that he’ll be busy with work, and you agree that you’ll be busy with college assignments too. And after one last movie night and a tearful goodbye, you both agree to try to remain best friends. He promises to come see you when he’s got a free moment, and you tell him you’ll travel up to New York once you’ve saved enough money to be able to afford it.
And then he’s gone. Off chasing his dreams and you couldn’t be happier for him.
But now you’re single. And what does that mean for you?
***
Bucky approaches you after spring break, sporting a healthy tan and messier hair. You’d overheard him and his friends talking earlier, so you knew they’d all flown to Cancun for the past week. Lucky them. You’d spent the break studying in your room, making notes for the next set of lectures to make sure you were well-prepared for them.
“Hello, princess. You’re looking extra beautiful today.”
You look down at your old hoodie and ratty leggings and wonder if he’s joking with you. “Uh, thanks?”
“I’m serious. You’re glowing, which can only mean one thing. You broke up with him, didn’t you?” Bucky leans down over your table, giving you a strong whiff of his wintery scent. It’s like freshly powdered snow and warm fire logs, enveloping around you like a welcome hug after your lonely spring break.
You purse your lips together, focusing on your notes except the lecture hasn’t started yet so you have nothing to write down except the date. But you’re determined not to look at him, “Actually, it was mutual.”
Bucky’s grin only gets wider, and to your surprise, he plops down on the empty seat next to you. Your eyes widen, “Wh-What are you doing?”
“What? I can’t sit next to you? Is this seat taken?”
Well, of course it wasn’t. You usually sat alone. Nobody really spoke to you apart from Bucky, but that was okay. It’s not like anyone was ever horrible to you either. Except Steve with that one comment that he’d made the other day. But you must have overheard him wrong.
“So, what did you do over spring break?” He asks.
You shrug, “I read up on the next few chapters on our syllabus.”
Bucky nods, “A quiet week, huh? Well, I wish I’d stayed back too.” He chuckles when he sees your raised eyebrow, “Hey, don’t get me wrong. Cancun’s beautiful, but it gets tiresome after a while. All Steve and Sam ever did was hook up with different girls. Constantly. Me? I just didn’t feel like doing that this time around.”
You frown, casting a short glance at Steve, except you quickly look away because he happens to be staring right back at you. But why was Steve hooking up with other girls? Didn’t he have a girlfriend? You mull over it for a second before you register the other thing Bucky had said. “Y-You didn’t feel like hooking up with anyone?”
The brunet clasps his hand over yours and shoots you a sparkling smile, “Why would I? When my girl wasn’t there with me?”
Bucky takes you out the following weekend. And you don’t know why you agree, when it’s so soon after your breakup with Peter. But when he asks you out, it just feels right, and the word “yes” is flying out of your mouth before you have the chance to think about it. Peter’s probably seeing other people too, you think to yourself. And the thought doesn’t bother you at all, because why shouldn’t Peter have his fun? He was single. And so were you.
Bucky presents you with a bouquet of pink tulips at the start of your date, and sits on your bed with an amused expression on his face while you quickly tend to them. Trimming the stems and finding a vase before setting them on your windowsill. “You look beautiful, princess.” He comments, making your cheeks feel like they’re on fire before he grabs your hand and takes you out.
The diner he takes you to is casual and pretty, only a few minutes outside of campus. The evening sunlight spills down through the window while Bucky brazenly holds your hands in his over the table – even when the waitress is taking your order! It makes you squirm, but in a pleasant kind of way. And he tells you about himself while you eat, how he knows he’s from a privileged family but always felt different growing up.
He tells you about all the mischief he and Steve got up to when they were kids, and then teens, and now young adults. And you can’t really imagine Steve, all stoic and mean and preppy-looking, getting up to any kind of mischief but you smile and nod anyways, loving how Bucky tells his stories in such an easy-going and charming way.
You’re a bit more guarded when he asks you about your childhood, though. You keep it brief and simple, outright evading certain details because you don’t want to get into it right now. But Bucky seems to understand, squeezing your hands before grabbing a napkin and wiping a spot of sauce on the side of your mouth.
He takes you to a nearby park after that. He buys a small loaf of bread so the two of you can feed the ducks. And he never lets go of your hand, and you can feel him watching you as you focus on the ducks gobbling up the pieces of bread. And then he grabs your chin and gently turns your face to him and he kisses you. And it’s sweet. Sweeter than it is with Peter. And you kiss him back, because you like how light and fluffy and exciting it feels to kiss Bucky.
It feels like you’re on cloud nine.
The dates get more frequent after that. Bucky walks you to class every day, holding your hand and talking to you about anything and everything. Like the latest report your class has been assigned, or his football team winning another game, or any new books you’ve read. You find yourself giggling and opening up a lot more, every shy bone in your body relaxing when you’re talking to him.
The kissing and touching becomes more frequent too. Often, he comes to your dorm room and things get hot and heavy. And oh, it’s so exciting feeling Bucky’s hands on you, and his expert kisses leave you breathless! He really was an incredible kisser, taking control and moving his tongue so lazily and perfectly against yours. But something within you always stops him before he can go any further.
“Bucky, please. I just got out of a relationship and I don’t know if I’m ready for sex.” You tell him truthfully one evening while he’s got you pinned down on your bed in the middle of a particularly passionate make-out session.
Bucky lies back down beside you while you fix the buttons of your cardigan which he’d almost had undone. He reaches down to adjust his boner through his jeans, “Princess, you’re killing me here. I want you so bad.”
You swallow, “I’m sorry, James. I just don’t think I’m ready.”
Light blue eyes smile down at you as the alpha sits up and grabs your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Don’t apologise, princess. I understand.”
“I just feel bad, I don’t want you to think I’m leading you on.” You duck your head, but he grabs your chin and lifts it up again, making you look at him.
“I’ll be honest, I don’t think I’ve gone out this long with a girl without sleeping with her.” Bucky confesses, scratching his head with a sheepish look on his face. “I haven’t been a great boyfriend in the past, and my motives have usually been selfish.”
Your eyes grow wide, but you don’t say anything.
“I’m telling you this because I care about you, princess. I think you’re different.” He tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear and chucks you under your chin till you smile. “I like talking to you and spending time with you. You’re smart and beautiful and I know we haven’t been together long, but I really see a future for us.” He kisses you sweetly, and you’re too busy trying to tame the butterflies in your stomach to respond properly, but you try your best anyways.
“What I’m saying is, you can take all the time you need till you’re ready. I’m not going anywhere, and I’ll wait as long as I have to till you’re ready to have sex.” Bucky finishes earnestly, and you can’t help but wrap your arms around his neck and plant a million kisses on his face. He’s saying all the right things, everything a girl wants to hear from her boyfriend.
“You really mean all that?” You ask him softly.
“Yes, princess, I mean it. You’re my girlfriend, and I’ll wait for you for as long as you need.” Bucky looks earnest and sweet, and you hug him hard. You feel a mix of thrill and nervous energy flutter through you. It’s something you’ve never felt before. But it’s a good feeling, and you welcome it with open arms as Bucky continues to leave tiny kisses all over your face. Till you’re giggling against his lips and hugging him close, feeling lighter than a feather.
***
Being the girlfriend of a popular senior was not something you’d envisioned happening to you at the start of university. But Bucky made it feel so natural, introducing you to all his friends, holding your hand all the time and including you in all his plans. His friends are nice enough: Sam was a bit cold at first but he warmed up after a while. Thor was loud and funny, Ransom acted overly smart and confident but seemed to have a sensitive side too. Curtis was mysterious and Andy was kind of dopey, and they were all friendly with you.
But then there was Steve.
The blonde alpha glowered at you any chance he got. Whenever you were in his presence, you could feel his steely blue eyes boring holes straight through your skin. You always kept out of his way so you were unsure why he seemed to hate you. Bucky just said not to take it personally, that Steve was just going through a rough patch with his girlfriend and he didn’t hate you at all.
One day, you’d gone over to Bucky’s house where he – unfortunately – lived with Steve and Sam too.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Steve had demanded when he’d opened the door and seen you standing there.
“Uh… James to-told me to meet him here after my morning classes.” You explain, feeling oddly nervous around the big alpha. You’re naturally shy but you’d come out of your shell quite a bit ever since you’d started dating Bucky. But Steve was just so intimidating, standing there in just a pair of grey sweats that are slung low over his hips. You avert your gaze to the ground in a bid not to stare at his bare chest.
Steve regards you suspiciously before stepping aside and letting you in. And you feel his heated gaze still on you as you brush past him to get inside. And that’s when you hear him inhale sharply, a low rumble coming from his chest before he stumbles. You whip around just in time to see him recover, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Are you okay?”
Steve scoffs, “Why the hell wouldn’t I be okay?”
“Uh… You kinda just tripped?” You point out hesitantly, and the blonde alpha’s pale face goes crimson before he clears his throat.
“I did not trip.” He glowers through gritted teeth.
Okay then. You decide not to question his rude and erratic behaviour. “Where is James’ room?”
Steve glances upstairs before leaning against the kitchen counter, his intense gaze locking on you as his frown relaxes into a smirk. “He’s taking a shower right now. You should wait for him down here.”
“Okay.” You sit down at the kitchen table. The house is big, spacious and minimalistic in the way it’s decorated. The kitchen is modern and it’s clear that there’s only boys living here, because you can see a ton of takeout containers and microwave meals strewn across the countertops.  Once you’re done observing your surroundings, you notice Steve still staring at you.
“So, you’re Bucky’s girlfriend now, huh?” He breaks the silence.
“Yes.”
“Strange. I never thought he’d go for someone like you.”
Your brows knit together into a frown as a pang of hurt echoes inside you, “Wh-What’s that supposed to mean?”
He shrugs, and you try not to focus on his broad, muscular shoulders. But it’s not easy to just look at his face either, because he’s so intimidating. He runs a hand through his light hair, “Nothing, omega. Don’t worry your little head over it.
Your jaw drops open, “Don’t call me that, please. I have a name.”
“As if I care.”
God! It was like talking to an eight-year-old. You had no idea that Steve was this immature and rude, and it makes your blood boil. You’re just about to get up and find Bucky’s bedroom yourself when you hear a pattering of light footsteps coming down the stairs.
“Steve, I have to go. But promise you’ll text me tonight?” It’s a girl. You recognise her from college – you’ve definitely seen her around campus somewhere. But she’s definitely not Sharon. She skips up to Steve and plants a kiss on his cheek, and the alpha only responds with a grunt. You get a weird feeling inside you as you watch this exchange, but try your best to shake it off.
The girl stops to shoot you a smile. “Hey, you’re Bucky’s girlfriend, aren’t you? Nice to meet you!”
She leaves before you have a chance to reply, and you’re left staring at the back of her head as she shuts the door behind her, getting an eyeful of her hair which you vaguely notice is the same shade as yours. And it’s only when she’s gone that you realise your mouth is open in shock, and you slowly turn to Steve who looks wholly unbothered.
“Aren’t you going out with Sharon?” You can’t help but blurt out.
Steve raises an eyebrow, but says nothing as he continues to just stare at you. You feel hot all over, and you don’t know whether it’s because of his eyes on you or because of the sudden anger you feel at the blatant display of cheating you’ve just witnessed.
“That’s not fair on your girlfriend, Steve.” You whisper.
And all Steve does is stare at you, to the point where you feel waves of heat on your face. And then suddenly you’re hit with this overwhelming scent of burning firewood. A freshly mown lawn with a strong sun beating down on it, and smoky wood on a hot summer’s day. Your eyes widen as the intimidating alpha walks over to you, leaning down at the table where you’re sitting.
“I don’t remember asking for some lowlife omega’s opinion on my private business.” He says softly, but there’s danger and threat embedded in his words and it makes your blood run cold. But your nose can’t stop twitching as it takes in his heady scent, and you feel your mind cloud over and your limbs grow weak like jelly and–
“I’d appreciate it if you’d put a shirt on in front of my girlfriend, Stevie.” Bucky chuckles, elbowing past Steve and making his way over to you. He helps you up and plants a firm kiss to your lips. You’re still rattled by the blonde alpha, though, and distractedly kiss your boyfriend back. You can still feel Steve’s eyes on you, and it’s unnerving to say the least.
“You ready to go, princess?” Bucky tugs at your hand and you nod, allowing him to pull you out of the house. It’s only when the fresh outside air whips against your face that you seem to snap out of whatever trance you’re in. You swallow and shake your head as Bucky leads you to his car, and you only speak once both of you are inside.
“Steve did something awful.” You breathe.
Bucky frowns before squeezing your arm, “What? Did he touch you?”
“N-No, he…” You shake your head, feeling a wave of anger overtake you momentarily, “He had a girl over, James. He was cheating on his girlfriend!”
“Oh.”
The silence is louder than ever as Bucky starts up the car and backs out of the driveway. He puts his arm over the back of your seat as he looks over his shoulder, and it’s not until he’s on the main road that you huff:
“Is that all you have to say?”
Bucky grimaces, keeping his eyes glued to the road, “Look, Steve isn’t exactly in love with Sharon.”
“But she’s his girlfriend, Bucky. He shouldn’t be cheating on her either way!”
“I know, I know. What can I say?” He pauses, as if mulling over how to say his next words. “Look, princess. Steve’s young, he’s only in college. It’s what us guys do. Why have one piece of the pie when you can have the whole thing, you know? That sort of thing.”
It only takes Bucky about three seconds to realise the error in his words. You turn to stare at him in utter shock and horror. Was this really James? Your James? Who had said all the right things and been so sweet and gentlemanly all these weeks? Who had respected your boundaries and never questioned you or lashed out for wanting to wait?
“Is that why you’re so okay with us not having sex?” You say quietly. “Because you’re getting it from somewhere else?”
“What? No, sweetheart. No, that’s not it at all.”
Bucky turns into a random lane and stops the car before turning to you. You try to bat him off but he grabs both your hands in his, bringing them up to his lips and pressing kisses on your fingers and palms before yanking you into an embrace.
“I’m sorry. That was a terrible thing for me to say.” He mumbles into your hair, and you try to find solace in his scent but it’s not strong enough right now. He kisses the top of your head before drawing back to make eye contact. “Princess, I’m not seeing anyone else behind your back, that I can promise you.”
“But how can I believe you? When it was so easy for you to justify what Steve’s doing?” You sniffle.
Bucky sits back in his seat and sighs, but he doesn’t let go of your hands. “Look, it’s no secret that us alphas are all a bunch of assholes. We don’t really hide it, either. Steve’s cheating on his girl because, well, it’s almost normal for a lot of us to do that. And I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t slept with multiple girls without them knowing about each other in the past.”
You bow your head, not liking this at all. But Bucky grabs your chin gently, lifting it up so you look at him.
“But I’m past all of that now, okay? I really like being in a serious and committed relationship with you, princess. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted in a girl, and I would never even think of being with anyone else.” He cups your face and strokes your cheek, and his eyes are so pretty and blue, and you can feel your heart melting already as he gives you a peck. “I guess I just wasn’t surprised by what Steve did because I’m so used to it.”
You nuzzle your face into his palm, “Can’t you tell him that it’s wrong? That you’ve grown out of doing stuff like that, and that he should too?”
Bucky chuckles, pressing your cheeks and nose with more soft kisses, “I could. But Steve is extremely stubborn and bossy, in case you haven’t noticed.” He pauses, smiling fondly at you when you giggle softly in agreement, twining a piece of your hair around his finger. “The way I see it, we should just focus on our relationship, and let Steve do whatever it is he’s doing since it’s got nothing to do with us. It took meeting the right girl for me to recognise the error of my ways. Maybe soon, he’ll find someone that he’ll want to be better for too, right?”
You nod, despite that weird feeling surfacing inside you once more. But you shove it back down and give Bucky a smile as he pulls you in for another long kiss.
“Well, let’s get to that movie, shall we? We’ve probably missed the opening credits and I’m gonna have to cut the line to get us our snacks, but I think we can still make it.”
You spend the rest of the evening at the drive-in movie theatre with Bucky. He reclines his seat and makes you climb over the console to sit in his lap while the two of you watch Gone with the Wind on the big screen with a bag of sweet and salty popcorn and a bar of chocolate to share. Once the snacks finish, you sleepily rest your head on his chest and let him stroke your back through your hoodie. And you almost fall asleep like that, Scarlett O’Hara’s indignant dialogues lulling you into a peaceful slumber until your nostrils are unceremoniously invaded with the scent of burning firewood and a hot summer’s day.
Opening your eyes slowly, you peak out the window to see another car pull up beside Bucky’s. And your heart sinks down to the depths of your chest when you see who’s inside. Steve. And Sharon. She’s talking to him animatedly, but he seems sullen and unresponsive as always. That is, until they start making out, and you have to forcibly look away when Steve’s eyes meet yours and you feel this burning feeling in your chest.
You swallow harshly before cuddling up to Bucky even more.
“James, I’m sleepy,” you say softly.
“Yeah? You wanna go home, princess?”
“Yes, please. If that’s okay?”
“Sure, princess.” He lifts you up and places you back on the passenger seat before pressing a kiss on your forehead. “Close your eyes and rest. I’ll tuck you into bed once we get back to your dorm.”
And he does just that, carrying you all the way back into your dorm room and helping you change before putting you to bed. And you can’t describe whatever it is you’re feeling but all you can do is clutch at his shirt when he goes to leave, pulling him into bed with you. And he rains your face with a billion kisses before you both fall asleep in each other’s arms.
***
Life at college continues. You’re still in contact with Peter, despite the two of you being so busy. But he sends you updates about his internship and all the cool technology he’s being exposed to. You tell him about your classes and all the interesting things you’re learning. You also, very tentatively, tell him about Bucky. Surprisingly, Peter seems supportive, and the conversation between the two of you grows easy once more.
The romance between you and Bucky seems to blossom with every passing day. He carries your books to class and takes you out on cute dates that make your heart flutter. Picnics, scenic walks, movies, restaurants – he takes you everywhere you’ve ever dreamed of being taken. And how your heart had skipped a beat when you’d seen he’d had a bouquet of yellow roses delivered to your dorm room! There was no note or tag attached, but you knew they were from Bucky. Who else could they be from? And they were the prettiest flowers you’d ever received, and the butterflies in your tummy fluttered at his perfect choice.
It was also in the little things he did, like kiss you on the forehead reassuringly or squeeze your hand when you’re feeling nervous. And slowly, you feel yourself coming out of your shell more and more. You find yourself laughing out loud and voicing your opinions that usually you would’ve kept silent.
Being Bucky’s girlfriend meant hanging out with his group of friends, too. And it thrills you that you’re able to hold conversations with some of them, and have them be genuinely interested in what you have to say and not just write you off as a “dumb omega”.
One day, you find yourself sitting on Bucky’s lap in the campus courtyard between classes, a number of his friends surrounding you. You still feel nervous around this many people (especially intimidating seniors) but with Bucky squeezing your hand reassuringly, you find the task less daunting than you normally would, as you grow to feel more comfortable with them.
Well, most of them.
“…and then I told her to fuck off, because who knows what kind of diseases she was carrying. I mean, she’s fucked half the football team after all.” Steve says cockily, taking a drag from his cigarette while the alphas around him all laugh as if he’s cracked the funniest joke of the century. Even Bucky chuckles before you shoot him a look and he stops, a sheepish look on his face.
“I mean sure, she’s got a great ass, but there’s nothing attractive about a slut who spreads her legs for any man who looks her way.” The blond alpha continues, and it irritates you how all his friends seem to hang on to his every word, looking up to him like he’s some sort of God.
Having been with Bucky long enough, you had somewhat cracked the hierarchy of his friend group. And Steve was definitely the leader, the one they all flocked to and tried to impress. Well, not Bucky – he and Sam were the only ones who would keep Steve in check. But the blonde alpha’s ego was through the roof, as were his misogynistic ideals and derogatory views towards omegas and women in general.
And you hated how shy you were, especially around him. You felt sickened by Steve’s gross statements but you could never say anything against him. A part of you just wanted to be liked and accepted by Bucky’s best friend, but Steve only alternated between glaring at you or pretending you didn’t exist.
“HI, BABY!”
A high-pitched squeal knocks you out of your reverie, and you watch as Sharon jogs up to Steve in her pretty blue cheerleading outfit. Together, they look like the perfect couple. Head cheerleader and the captain of the football team. Perfect. You feel that weird feeling bubbling up inside you again but do your best to keep it at bay.
Steve rolls his eyes before Sharon launches herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck and planting her lips on his. Steve, however, remains stoic.
“Gosh, baby, could you please put that cigarette out?” Sharon says, pushing a wayward lock of Steve’s blonde hair off his forehead.
“No.”
She giggles, shaking her head before turning to you. “Men, huh? Stubborn as ever. I’ve asked him to stop smoking about a bajillion times, but he never listens.”
You smile and nod, feeling stupid and awkward as ever because Sharon is pretty and popular and you don’t know how to act.
“I like your pin.” Sharon points at the World Politics Society pin on your bookbag, “I couldn’t even dream of getting into that class. You must be really smart.”
Steve snorts but everyone ignores him.
“Thank you, I find the subject really interesting,” you reply.
You watch Sharon as she talks to everyone in the group. She’s kind, confident and beautiful – everything you wish you were. But that weird, indescribable feeling keeps surfacing inside you every time she locks hands with Steve, or brushes his hair back, or smooths the wrinkles on his sweater.
“And Mister Barnes, how come I’ve never met your girlfriend before now? When she’s practically my sister-in-law?” Sharon hits Bucky lightly on the arm before shooting you another bright smile. “We should organise a double-date. Me and Steve and you both. That sounds fun, doesn’t it?”
Steve scoffs but everyone ignores him.
“Epically fun, Miss Carter.” Bucky gives her a charming smile before tugging you close to his chest. “We could go bowling or something. If His Highness is up for it.”
Steve takes another drag of his cigarette, saying nothing. In fact, he’s barely said a word since his girlfriend joined the conversation, and you find that to be weirdly peculiar. Why was he even with her if all he did was cheat on her and ignore her every time she spoke?
“Looking forward to it!” Sharon smiles before checking her phone, “Okay, I gotta go now or else I’ll be late for practice. I’ll see you tonight, baby?” She gives Steve a peck on the lips, which he also doesn’t return.
“Sure.” Steve answers, finally seeming to snap out of it as his hand meanders down to squeeze her ass. You feel your own hand clench into a fist but you quickly relax it and hope no one saw. What the heck was that? Why had you reacted that way?
“What a fuckin’ bitch.” Steve resumes once Sharon is out of earshot. “As I was saying, I told this other whore who was all over me the other day that I just wasn’t interested in sluts like her, and she said–”
“Could you stop being such a misogynistic jerk?!”
You can’t believe the words have left your mouth, and your hands start shaking immediately once you realise they have. Never before have you raised your voice at someone like this, let alone a formidable alpha who’s about twice your size.
Steve’s cold blue eyes rest their steely gaze on you, when up until this point he’d been content on pretending you weren’t there. You dare peak up at him and see his jaw tick, and a vein protrude from the side of his forehead.
“What did you just say to me?” He asks softly.
“Hey, leave her alone.” Bucky says warningly, but you sit up straight.
“I’m… I’m sorry, but I just don’t like how you talk about women.” You say, hating how your voice shakes and how you can’t look Steve in the eye.
“And I don’t like the tone you’re taking with me right now.” Steve’s intense gaze bores holes straight through you before he looks at Bucky, “Haven’t you taught her not to speak to her superiors like that?”
Your jaw drops open in pure shock, “H-How dare you–”
“Okay, let’s go.” Bucky hoists you to your feet while your whole body seems to shake with shock, anger, and a tiny bit of fear. The brunet alpha holds you tightly by the arm before evenly glancing back at his best friend. “Steve, don’t speak to my girl like that. In fact, if you’re going to be rude, then don’t speak to her at all.”
You and Bucky don’t stick around to hear Steve’s retort, and it’s only when you round a corner and are hidden from the rest of the group by a brick wall, that you burst into tears.
“He’s – so – awful!” You cry, your heart pitter-pattering in a mix of fear and hurt. You hated being spoken to like that, like you were beneath him. Bucky holds you close and you sob into his chest, hugging him as hard as you can. His solidness and wintery scent is a source of comfort to you, and so is his hand which rubs your back soothingly.
“He shouldn’t have spoken to you like that, princess. I’ll make sure to speak to him about it later.” Bucky promises you, pressing soft kisses to your hairline while you cry, leaving splotchy tear-stains on his shirt.
“Why is he even with Sharon when he doesn’t seem happy with her at all?!” You burst out, desperately wiping at your teary eyes except it doesn’t stop you from crying even more. “He’s just…I just… Oh, I hate him, James! I hate him, I hate him, I hate him!”
“I know, sweetheart. I know. I’ll talk to him, don’t you worry.”
Looking into his earnest eyes, you can tell Bucky’s intentions are good. And you don’t know if he talks to Steve or not, but you do receive another delivery of yellow roses to your dorm room that very night. This time, there’s a note attached too. “I’m sorry” is all it says, and you can’t help but smile as you hold the roses up to your nose and take in their delicate scent. Bucky was obviously feeling bad about the whole situation – and it wasn’t even his fault!
But clearly, your boyfriend knows you well, because the flowers do lift your mood up a little bit. You place the second bouquet of yellow roses caringly next to the first one. They look expensive and beautiful, and have your entire room smelling heavenly and sweet. It makes you smile and clasp your hands together, and you’re just about to call Bucky when you hear a rustling from outside your window, followed by a series of heavy footsteps.
Strange. Who would be out at this time? And in the bushes outside your dorm room, no less? You decide you’ve probably imagined it, but you close your window and draw your curtains anyways before calling Bucky.
“You’re the best, you know that?” You tell him, a huge smile plastered on your face as you take one last whiff of the roses before flopping down on your bed on top of all your pillows and stuffies.
“I do know that, sweetheart, but it’s nice to hear you say it.” Bucky laughs from the other end of the phone. “It’s also nice to hear you sound so happy.”
You grab your stuffed rabbit and tug his ears mindlessly, “Yeah, I know I acted like a huge cry-baby earlier today.”
“Didn’t I tell you not to worry about it, princess? Anyways, I spoke to Steve.”
Your heart skips a beat, “You did?”
“Yes. Look, he’s set in his traditional ways and he’s stubborn as hell. But he did look like he regretted speaking to you that way, and I don’t think he’ll do it again.”
You breathe a sigh of relief, “Well, that’s all I want. Thank you for speaking to him, James.” There’s a pause, and then you pipe up hesitantly: “And what about Sharon? Is he still going to stay with her?”
“Uh, yeah. Why wouldn’t he?”
BECAUSE SHE’S NOT RIGHT FOR HIM! The omega inside you screeches, and the sheer vitriol you feel makes you sit up straight, eyes wide and hands shaking. What the heck? Where had that outburst even come from?
“Hello? Princess? You still with me?”
You clear your throat and physically shake your head to rid yourself of that weird feeling that seems to be bubbling inside you so often now. But never before had it manifested into your inner thoughts screaming at you like how they just had. You feel hot all over, and quickly place your palm on your forehead to check if you have a fever before remembering Bucky is still on the phone.
“I’m here. Sorry, I just…” What can you even say to him? Without sounding crazy? You take a deep breath. “Thank you for talking to him, James. I’m just glad he won’t be mean anymore. Everything else isn’t really any of my business.”
“That’s good to hear, sweetheart.”
***
True to Bucky’s word, slowly but surely, Steve becomes a lot more bearable to be around. He’s still awful in his misogyny but at least he no longer glares at you or makes you feel unwelcome and uncomfortable when you’re with Bucky and his friends. You still catch him staring at you sometimes, but you must be imagining it because you know he hates you. You try not to care though, and only focus on Bucky.
“I want you to meet my parents, princess.” Bucky says to you one day. The two of you are in your dorm room where you’d just completed an intense study session. Well, you’d been studying while Bucky grew distracted after about ten seconds of staring at his textbook, and proceeded to kiss and touch you while you laughed and batted him off. “And I would like to meet your parents too.”
The smile drops from your face almost instantaneously, and you nervously grab your stuffed rabbit and pull its ears. “Oh, I… Uh…”
“I mean, we’ve been seriously dating for a while now, haven’t we? It’s only right that I get to meet the parents of the girl who captured my heart.”
You smile uneasily, heart feeling like it’s about to beat out of your chest. “What are your parents like?” You blurt out, trying to deflect.
Bucky lies back on your bed, “They’re great. My dad’s a lawyer so he’s always working. My mom is usually at home, though. She makes a great apple pie and she’s also great for when I need advice.”
You smile softly, “She must really love you.”
He blinks. “Of course, she does. All parents love their children.”
He goes on to tell you about how his dad used to take him golfing at the country club when he was younger, and how much he hated it. But he’d always get treated to ice cream afterwards, which was why he agreed to go every time. He tells you about how his mother values family over everything, which was why he went home every other Friday to have dinner with his family, and how he’d love for you to join him on one of those dinners soon.
You nod and agree, but you feel like crying on the inside. There’s a sense of yearning inside you that you can’t seem to get rid of no matter how hard you cuddle into Bucky or how much he kisses you.
His hands slowly slip down to your hips, squeezing gently before meandering up under your hoodie. His touch is tentative yet confident, and usually it excites you. But you always stop him before he goes too far, hoping and praying he doesn’t get mad at you. Which he never does. Instead, the two of you lazily make out on your bed until you fall asleep in each other’s arms. And then the nightmares commence, but when you wake up, you can’t remember them at all.
***
“Ooh, look at the pink bowling balls! And the powder blue ones. Aren’t they cute, Steve?” Sharon clutches Steve’s muscular bicep, her perfectly manicured nails scraping lightly against his pale skin. Steve only grunts in response before shaking her off as him and Bucky go up to the counter to pay for one session of bowling for all of you.
Through Sharon’s pure will and determination, the four of you find yourselves on a double date at the bowling alley. She seemed blissfully unaware of the fact that Steve hated you, or that you didn’t particularly like Steve either, and had practically begged Bucky to organise the date. Bucky had said you didn’t have to do it, but what harm could one night of bowling actually do? Especially since Steve hadn’t really been mean to you for a while now.
“Do I seriously have to wear these ugly bowling shoes?” Sharon complains, gingerly holding up the dirty shoes and making a face.
“Don’t wear them. Let’s see what happens.” Steve pipes up.
Bucky laughs, “Unless you want a broken toe, you better put them on.”
It’s Steve and Sharon against you and Bucky. You’ve bowled a few times, so you’re not embarrassingly bad or anything. Bucky is fairly good too. Surprisingly, Sharon turns out to be extremely skilled at bowling, getting a strike on her first try.
And then there’s Steve.
“Another gutter ball, Rogers!” Bucky doubles over in glee, practically in tears. You try to hide your amused smile and even Sharon can’t help but laugh.
“Shut up!” Steve seethes, looking redder than a tomato as he jams his hands in his pockets and walks back to the bench you’re all sitting on. He casts a quick glance in your direction, his nose twitching. “There’s too many distractions here.”
“What distractions, bro? You’re just a bad player.” Bucky mocks, jabbing his elbow into his friend’s ribs and laughing even harder when the blond gives him an absolutely murderous look.
Bucky gets up and stretches, “I think I need a beer. You want one, Steve?”
Steve flips him off.
“I’ll take that as a yes. You girls want anything?”
“Maybe a strawberry milkshake? Or iced tea sounds good. And I think we should also get some food for Steve before he implodes. Maybe nachos? Or curly fries. I’ll go with you, since that’s a lot to remember.” Sharon gets up.
Bucky presses a kiss to your forehead, “Think you can hold down fort and keep us in the lead until I get back, princess?” He whispers.
You giggle, “I think so. I just need to get a minimum of one pin.”
They leave, and you get up to do your turn. Making your way over to the contraption where they keep all the bowling balls, you can feel Steve’s eyes on you. God, without Bucky and Sharon here, you felt all shy and nervous. Not to mention his scent, which was so overpowering as it settled into your nostrils. Just ignore him, you think to yourself before absentmindedly selecting a bowling ball.
You’ve taken one step towards the bowling lane when the ball slips from your sweaty palms. It’s a lot heavier than you anticipated, and you can’t take the weight as you watch it fall down almost in slow motion. There’s a flurry of movement, Steve moving quick as lightning and batting the ball sideways before it completely crushes your foot. It ends up bouncing on the tip of your toe with a loud thud before rolling away under the table.
“What the fuck inspired you to choose the heaviest ball available? You could have really hurt yourself!” Steve shakes you angrily by the shoulder as you remain frozen in place, still registering what just happened.
“I…I’m sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.” You stammer before suddenly becoming aware of your toe throbbing from where the bowling ball had fallen. Most of its weight had been absorbed by your shoe, but your toe still hurts. And you hate being such a baby, but your lower lip can’t help but quiver, and you feel your eyes well up with tears.
You don’t really register it as Steve’s fingers encircle around your wrist, and he tugs you back to the bench, forcing you down before crouching in front of you.
“Did you hurt yourself? See, this is why little omegas like you shouldn’t be carrying heavy things. I told Bucky bowling was a bad idea.” At the mention of his best friend’s name, Steve instinctively whips his head towards the snack counter, and you do too. Bucky and Sharon are still in line, and with their backs turned and so many people around, you doubt they can see you.
You sniffle, “I didn’t think it would be that heavy.”
“Of course, you didn’t. You’re just a baby omega, and sometimes you don’t think about things like that. Here, let me see.” Before you realise what’s happening, he grabs your ankle with one big, warm hand; and uses the other to unstrap your shoe. You gape at him, the scent of smoky firewood and a freshly mown lawn making you swallow harshly and freeze in place, letting him slip your shoe off.
But it only a takes handful of seconds for you to come back to your senses, and you shake your head and cringe backwards.
“Uh, th-that’s okay, Steve. It stopped hurting now, I think I’ll be fine.”
But his grip on your ankle doesn’t loosen, your shoe falling to the ground and his blue eyes zeroing in on your foot which is covered by just your lacy white ankle sock. The air feels thick around you both, and you feel your breathing start to get laboured as you watch his Adam’s apple bob in his throat as he swallows.
Slowly, tentatively almost, he strokes your foot with his other hand. And a part of you is so acutely aware of how weird this is. You boyfriend’s best friend tending to your injury in the middle of a crowded bowling alley – while Bucky and Sharon were in the same vicinity!
“You’ll be alright.” Steve says gently (the gentlest you’ve ever heard him speak), as he continues to stroke your throbbing toe, “You just need to be more careful, okay?”
You find yourself nodding, your entire body buzzing with some sort of strange energy that you’ve never felt before. “I guess I just got distracted.”
Steve’s hand remains rubbing your toe, but his eyes look up to meet yours. And you almost forget how to breathe, feeling like there’s a bubble encasing the two of you, and everyone else is far, far away. All you can feel is his burning gaze and his hand touching you.
He clears his throat, “Yeah, I’ve been distracted all night too.” And you can’t help but notice how long and dark his lashes are, how they contrast so deeply from his pale hair and skin, how they fan against his cheekbones as he blinks up at you almost earnestly. “Maybe I should drive you home.”
That knocks you out of whatever reverie he’s pulled you into. Drive you home? While his girlfriend and your boyfriend stayed here? Was he insane?
You forcibly tug your foot out of his grasp, quickly putting your shoe back on before he can grab it again. And Steve stays in his crouched position in front of you, almost as if frozen in place. He’s staring at his hand, the one that was holding your ankle, before he looks up at you. There’s a fiery look in his eyes, one you can’t fully explain. You also can’t fully explain why your heart is beating like mad, and there’s a warm feeling spreading through your chest.
“I’m fine, Steve. Really. Thank you for uh… Just… Thanks.” You mumble.
Steve blinks, opening his mouth to speak before he shuts it again when he looks beyond your shoulder. He coughs, standing up to his full height and moving away from you suddenly. And you watch him whip his phone out, pretend he’s texting someone, and all the while your heart just won’t calm down. And then you feel a tap on your shoulder.
“We’ve got snacks!” Sharon announces, skipping over to Steve and handing him a bunch of things, “Here you go, babe. These cheesy fries are literally to die for. Me and Bucky picked at them on the way back here. Oh, and here’s your beer.”
You watch as Sharon simpers at her boyfriend, grabbing his hand and leading him to a nearby bench. Feeding him fries while he bats her hand away, instead grabbing his beer and taking a long swig. His face is still red, and his eyes are still bright, and–
“You okay, princess?” Bucky sits down beside you and puts his arm around you, giving you a tight squeeze. “You look troubled.”
You force a smile, “I’m fine, James.”
“Did Steve say something to you? Do you need me to talk to him again?”
Rapidly, you shake your head. Subconsciously, you’ve already made the decision not to tell Bucky about the weirdness that has just transpired. And the guilt is already eating you up from the inside out, despite the fact you hadn’t done anything. Or hadn’t you? Why had you not pulled away sooner? And why was Steve acting this way? Why was he so gentle, so tender? When every other instance between the two of you has been either him ignoring you, or being rude towards you?
Suddenly, your head hurts.
Bucky seems to understand that something is off with you, because he tells Sharon and Steve that he’s tired and wants to cut the night short. You hug Sharon goodbye, feeling like you want the ground to eat you up whole, before your boyfriend leads you out of the bowling alley.
“Princess, please tell me what’s bothering you.” He says moments later when the two of you are in his car.
You force a smile, “Nothing!”
His light blue eyes, so piercing in the darkness of the car, stare at you as if they can see right through you. But all he does is draw you in for a hug, and you feel your body sag into his. Bucky feels so cosy and safe, so dependable and good. All your worries and concerns dissipate for a moment as you hug him back almost fiercely.
“Well, why don’t we go get some ice cream?” He asks kindly.
You bury your face in his chest, not quite done hugging him yet. Maybe you were just overthinking whatever had happened back there with Steve. Maybe the blond alpha was just trying to turn a new leaf and be kind for once. Maybe his actions had been innocuous after all. You sniffle before looking up at your boyfriend and pressing a long kiss to his lips.
“Okay. Let’s do that.”
Bucky gets a double mint chocolate chip cone and you get a vanilla strawberry swirl. He licks the ice cream that you accidentally smear on the side of your mouth as you dig in, and then you both kiss some more. Sweet kisses and sweet touches laced with giggles. And then he takes you on a drive, and you roll the windows down and let the breeze hit your face as if you’re the main character in an indie film, allowing the cool night air to wash away any remnants of guilt. Bucky’s got one hand on the steering wheel and the other one holding steadily onto yours, squeezing every few seconds and shooting you lovesick smiles that you return.
He parks outside of your dorm building and pulls you over the console and into his lap. And you let him kiss you and touch you and try to lose yourself in it. Try not to think of a hot summer’s day and freshly mown grass. You don’t even stop him when he pushes his hand down your leggings and past your panties, and you gasp into his mouth when you feel his fingers brush against your hot core.
“Are you sure about this, princess?” Bucky breathes against your lips, and you want to cry at how sweet he is. How patient and kind. You don’t deserve him at all. You nod your head to indicate that yes, you are sure. You kiss him doubly hard, trying to drown out the feel of wanting to cry. Because actually no, you’re not sure about this. You don’t know if you’re ready. But you feel so bad, so bad for what happened with Steve.
You didn’t even do anything! The rational part of your brain screams. So then why did it feel like you had?
Bucky moves his fingers expertly inside you, his thumb rubbing your bundle of nerves in a way that does make you momentarily forget about anything else except for his touch. You mewl his name, clutching the fabric of his shirt and rutting against him. His large hands rub up and down your back, his lips warm against your ear as he coaxes you, “That’s right, princess. Let go for me, I’ve got you. I’ve always got you.”
You come hard, body shaking and spasming on top of him as he holds you close to his chest. Praises you for being so good for him, for being so beautiful and perfect. And it’s crazy, because you feel anything but those things right now. But you sob out his name softly, and let him stroke your hair back as he continues to talk you through your orgasm, “That’s it, princess. You’re such a good girl for me, aren’t you? Such a good girl. Thank you for letting me in, sweetheart. Thank you for being so perfect.”
He lets you recover, all the while kissing you. And then he walks you to your room and bids you goodnight. He tells you he’d have stayed the night, but he has to drive home to pick up an important document for his father. You manage a weak smile, and return his kisses before waving goodbye.
And then you shut the door and burst into tears.
And you don’t even know why, because nothing had happened between you and Steve! Nothing at all. But you cry for all the confusion within you, the unresolved feelings of guilt that you can’t understand for the life of you, and how you can’t seem to shake this yearning sadness inside you. Oh, why did Steve have to be so different tonight? Why had his eyes reflected such tenderness? Why had he held your ankle like that? Why hadn’t he let go?
Why did you care so much?
You take a long shower and change into clean, comfortable clothes before trying to distract yourself with Netflix. And that’s when you hear a knock on your door.
It’s another bouquet of yellow roses. You smile at the delivery man – you recognise his face at this point, since he’s been to your dorm room three times now. You marvel at Bucky’s quickness, because he’d only dropped you home about an hour ago. He must have paid for express delivery or something. And this time, the bouquet is accompanied by not only a note, but also a small package.
I really enjoyed our date tonight, baby.
You smile softly at the short but sweet message, before your eyes shift to the package. It’s brown and unsuspecting, with a yellow ribbon holding it together. You gently rip it open.
Coal black eyes stare up at you. A furry little face. Tan coloured fur and a light blue bow-tie. It’s a teddy bear! You can’t help but crack a smile, heart feeling lighter than it has all day. Oh, it was so cute! Like a furry little baby. You hug it close to your chest, the butterflies fluttering happily around in your tummy. You don’t receive gifts too often, and this was a total surprise. And definitely one that was helping lift your lousy mood.
You fall asleep with the teddy in your arms, and no nightmares come. Instead, you dream of warm sunlight splashing down on your skin, and green grass so fresh you can almost smell it. And the silhouette of a shadowy figure who holds you close and promises to keep you safe. And the yearning feel goes away. And you feel content.
***
“Okay, do you want the good news first or the bad news?”
“Uh oh.” You bite your lip, immediately assuming the worst as your hand freezes in the middle of tossing a folded shirt into your overnight bag. Today was the day you and Bucky were driving down to Bucky’s family house, where you were finally going to meet his parents and stay for the weekend. “They don’t like me, do they?”
Bucky snickers over the phone, “Wrong, sweetheart. My parents love you. Well, they love the pictures of you that I showed them from my phone. That’s the good news, actually. They seem genuinely excited to meet you. My mom’s planning a whole five course dinner.”
You resume packing, putting in your pyjama bottoms, an extra hoodie, your plastic bag of toiletries, as well as your new favourite stuffed teddy bear. You force out a chuckle, hoping he can’t detect your anxiety and nervousness over the phone, “That’s good. I really hope I don’t let them down.”
“Let them down? How?”
You chew on your lip and whisper, “By not being good enough…”
“Princess, you’re the prettiest, kindest, sweetest and smartest girl I’ve ever dated. I don’t want you putting yourself down like that, okay?”
“O-Okay.” He was right – it wasn’t healthy to keep thinking of yourself in such a negative light. And it wasn’t like you enjoyed feeling sorry for yourself or drowning in self-pity, you just sometimes let the doubts you had about yourself creep in and take over your mind. Despite the fact that since day one, Bucky had been reassuring you about how perfect you were.
But would a perfect girlfriend be feeling as guilty as you were?
“What’s the bad news?” You ask, trying to push your thoughts to the back of your mind and focus on the conversation with your boyfriend.
Bucky sighs, “So, I had to actually stop by my dad’s office to sort out some paperwork. He only trusts me to do it, and since I’ll be working at his firm once I graduate, I figured it would be a good chance for me to show him that I’m actually competent with stuff like that.”
You nod, “That makes sense.”
“But that means I’ll be tied up all morning, so I won’t be able to drive you back to my house in Brooklyn.”
“Oh.” You let the words sink in. “That’s alright, James. I can just take the train.”
“Uh, I don’t think so, princess. But listen, Steve is going home for the weekend too, and his parents are practically neighbours with mine. He offered to give you a lift.”
You feel your whole body begin to shake as soon as his name is mentioned. It’s been a few days since the double date, and since what you’ve dubbed in your head as “the ankle incident.” Even now, your heart flutters at the memory, and you can still feel his warm fingers brushing over your foot as he’d held it in his hands and stroked you so softly. And when you close your eyes, you can see that earnest look on his face, and–
“Bucky, I really don’t mind taking the train.”
“Sweetheart, I know you don’t mind. But I mind, I don’t want my girl taking the train when you could easily just drive there.” There’s a pause as Bucky inhales deeply, “Look, I know you and Steve aren’t exactly the best of friends. But I really think he’s trying to turn a new leaf and be a nicer person. I mean, he actually volunteered to drive you, which is progress. And if I’m being honest, it would really give me peace of mind if I knew you were in the car with one of my friends instead of alone on a crowded, dingy train.”
“James, I really don’t think–”
“Please, sweetheart? For me?”
You exhale slowly, clasping your hands together to stop them from shaking. If Bucky had so much faith in Steve, then maybe it was you who was overthinking everything. Maybe Steve genuinely was turning a new leaf, and who were you to deny someone when they were doing you a favour? The drive down to Brooklyn would be long, but not too long. And Steve hadn’t been mean to you for many weeks now, so maybe it would all be okay?
“Okay, Bucky. If that’s what you want.” You agree softly.
“Great! Steve told me to tell you that he’ll pick you up at 3.”
***
Steve arrives outside your dorm at 2:55pm. Actually, you see his car pull up at around 2:45, and then you watch him park it and sit there drumming his fingers against the steering wheel. And then he gets out of the car and paces around for a while before finally making his way over to your door and knocking on it rather loudly. You give him a quiet hello and he gives you a grunt in return, the exchange giving you a sick feeling in your tummy – would it be this quiet and awkward for the whole journey? Before you can worry some more, Steve takes your overnight bag from your hands and leads you to his car.
“Put your seatbelt on.” He orders you the moment you sit down in the passenger seat.
“I was just about to.” You respond, a tad defensive because he hadn’t even given you a chance to breathe before he’d started ordering you around.
“Just do it.”
“Okay.”
He doesn’t start the car until your seatbelt is firmly in place, and then you sit there twiddling your thumbs in silence because Steve doesn’t even have the radio on. You wonder if you should start a conversation, but you feel too shy. Which is crazy, since you’d really been starting to come out of your shell these past few months. But not with Steve. He was way too intimidating and scary and just… intense.
“How’s your toe?” He asks you gruffly out of the blue about ten minutes into the journey.
“It’s all good, thank you for asking.” Your response is cordial, and you wonder if you sound bitchy or clipped. It certainly isn’t your intention, but you’ve definitely got your guard up and you don’t really know how to speak to him.
Steve sighs, and there’s another fifteen minutes of silence before he pulls into a traffic jam, and that’s when he turns to face you.
“I broke up with Sharon.”
Your eyes widen and you feel your heart skip a beat, “Oh…uh…Oh.”
He nods, “Yeah. I took your advice.”
That makes you snap out of whatever momentary shock his sudden revelation had put you in. “My advice? Wh-What do you mean?”
The car starts moving again, and Steve takes his time to reply, and you wonder whether he can hear your heart pitter-pattering loudly in your chest as you anticipate his response.
“I’ve heard you, you know. All those times you complained to Bucky, asking him why I was with Sharon if I clearly didn’t care about her. And you were right, so I took your advice and I dumped her.”
You clear your throat, nervously tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear, “I didn’t mean… Well… She deserves better, Steve.” You inhale deeply and turn to look out the window – either out of awkwardness or because you can’t seem to meet his gaze. But he’s got a weird pull about him, practically reeling you back in and you can’t help but look back at him once he starts speaking again.
“I told her I wasn’t interested in her anymore. That I was in love with somebody else.” Steve takes a turn off the highway, and you sit there frozen in shock as he takes quick left and right turns, eventually driving into a small, deserted street, where he parks the car. You swallow, but there’s a huge lump in your throat that you can’t seem to get rid of.
“Wh-Why are we stopping here, Steve?”
“I like how my name sounds when you say it.” His hand creeps over the console in a bid to grab yours, and you quickly move back. Your back slams against the door as you cringe away from him, eyes wide and heart racing.
“Wh-What are you doing? Stop!”
Steve scoffs, “Please. Don’t play dumb, I know you like me too. And the sooner you stop denying it, the easier all of this will be for you.”
You can hardly believe what you’re hearing, it’s almost like your own ears are playing tricks on you. As if you’re Alice falling down some weird rabbit hole into a dimension where nothing makes sense. Was this a joke? Was he pulling some sort of prank? But he’s got that same earnest, honest look in his eyes, the look he’d had at the bowling alley. But you swallow and shake your head rapidly.
“Steve, no, I’m with James. He’s my boyfriend, I don’t like you like that –”
“DON’T LIE!” Steve bursts out, and the sudden explosion of anger makes you jump out of your seat, and the panic that ensues in your heart has you grabbing the door handle in a desperate bid to get out of the car and away from him. But of course, the door remains locked, and now you can really feel the cold terror and dread as it overtakes your body.
Steve exhales slowly, running a hand through his blonde hair, “Don’t. Lie.” He repeats, reaching over to forcibly grab your wrist. And his touch alone sense goosebumps up and down your arm. “I knew we had a connection from the moment I saw you. And then at the bowling alley on our date, I knew you felt it too.”
“Y-You mean our double date,” you say slowly, incredulity dripping from your tone, “where you were with your girlfriend and I was with my boyfriend.”
Steve shakes his head, his grip on your wrist tightening, “You were the only one I could focus on that night.” And then, as you watch in horror, he brings your hand up to his lips, kissing it as his eyes flutter shut, almost like he’s savouring kissing your skin for the first time. And you feel every cell in your body, from the top of your head to the bottom of your toes, flutter as he does it. He locks eyes with you, “And I saw how you reacted that night when you opened my gift, that’s how I knew you liked me too.”
His gift? The terror in your veins seems to triple in less than a second, and you feel like you might throw up. You think back to all those bouquets of yellow roses with no name on the notes that accompanied them. And your favourite stuffed teddy with the coal black eyes and blue bow tie. No. No, it couldn’t be. And he’d watched you open them? How?
“N-No, those were from James!” You bat at him, trying to get him to let go of your hand. You suddenly can’t breathe, can’t think. Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god. “Those flowers were from James!”
“Sure.” Steve snorts, “Is that why you never even mentioned them to him? You knew deep down they weren’t from him, omega. You knew.”
“No, no, no–”
“And how could they be from him? He doesn’t understand you. Not like I do.” He tries to cup your cheek with his warm hand but you dodge him, shaken down to your very core by all the revelations hurtling towards you at top speed. Steve narrows his eyes at you for a second, before grabbing your hand again. “You think he doesn’t tell me everything, omega? You think I don’t know that you haven’t even let him fuck you yet?”
You feel you’ve just been doused with a bucket of ice-cold water, and all you can do is gape helplessly at Steve, any words you may have had on the tip of your tongue now firmly lodged in the back of your throat.
Steve smirks, “That’s right. He told me you haven’t let him fuck you, and it’s been what, three months since you guys started going out?”
“I wanted to wait till I was ready.” You whisper.
“You keep telling yourself that.” Steve laughs bitterly, “But you and I both know the truth, which is that you’ll never be ready. Not for him. Because you don’t want him to fuck you, you don’t want that intimacy with him.” He yanks you closer with the hold he has on your wrist, till your foreheads are almost touching and you’re frozen in place by not only your fear but something else too. Something warm and inviting.
“If you were my girlfriend, you’d already be three months pregnant.”
Your jaw drops open, only a tiny squeak making its way out past your lips. It’s as if he’s stolen all the air from your lungs, and all the thoughts from your brain. You feel hot all over, but also numb. You feel nothing yet everything all at once, and you can’t believe what he’s saying.
“But that’s okay, we still have plenty of time for that.” Steve nods determinedly, his eyes clouding over with an almost wistful, faraway look. “Baby, I have a plan for us. I’m graduating soon, and I want you by my side as the mother of my children. You’re perfect for me, and I’ll give you the family you crave.”
It’s like he’s lit a candle inside you. A tiny, almost minuscule candle of hope fuelled by the picture his words paint, but it flames fiercely nevertheless. Until you forcibly snuff it out and shake your head once more, and deliver more futile pushes to get him to let you go.
“Y-You’re crazy! I don’t want that, Steve! I don’t want any of that!”
“You do.”
“No, I don’t!”
“Yes. You do.” Steve sneers, twisting your arm when you grow more desperate, your movements ceasing as you stare up at him helplessly. But his face remains stoic, and a wild piece of blonde hair flops down over his forehead. “I told you; Bucky tells me everything. How you never really fully open up to him, how you get closed off and distant and sad sometimes and he can’t figure out why because you never tell him.”
“Th-That’s between me and him–”
“Don’t you get it?” He grabs you by the shoulders, shaking you as if he’s had an epiphany and wants you to have it too. “I’m the one who knows you, omega. Not him.” His hand reaches up to cup the wide of your face again, and this time he succeeds because you’re frozen in place. His voice softens, “I know you feel like your mother doesn’t care about you. I know you feel lonely despite being in a relationship with Bucky. I know you felt like this even in your previous relationship before Bucky. And I know you don’t have a dad, and I know it hurts–”
“No, no, no, no!” The tears are welling up in your eyes now, and you feel like you can’t breathe. Like you’re hyperventilating and there’s no escape and you can’t run away because this stupid car is locked and you’re in the middle of nowhere and you’ve never told anyone about your dad! You never talk about that with anyone. You don’t even think about it! How did he know?!
“Hey, hey, calm down.” Steve rubs his wrists over your face, and the tranquil effect of a hot midsummer afternoon warms you from the inside out. You feel your heartbeat go back to normal, and you’re able to breathe again. You look up to see Steve’s face inches away from yours, and all you can feel are the pads of his thumbs slowly stroking your cheekbones, and for the life of you, you can’t explain why you just let him do it.
“Do you ever get that yearning feeling, baby?” He asks you softly, so softly that you almost don’t hear it. His blue eyes sparkle with determination and earnesty, and he holds your face so carefully in his hands. “Tell me, do you ever get that feeling? Of wanting something so bad but you can’t seem to figure out what it is?”
“Yes.” You whisper hushedly, dropping your head in shame. Your heart throbs with the same guilt that you’ve been feeling for days now. Horrific, unforgiving guilt that washes through your body in taunting waves.
Steve kisses you then. And it feels like everything around you seems to stand still. Every particle, every atom, every hair, every speck of dust freezes in place. You close your eyes, and it’s like the sun itself descends down to the earth, making everything bask in its addicting glow. Fireworks and explosions behind your eyes and all around you, his warmth enveloping you like a hug. An embrace of delicious heat that feels like you’re home. Really home, and it’s something you’ve never felt before.
And then you start crying.
“I can’t do this to him.” You pull away, and the panic you feel is almost immediate. “Steve, I… We can’t do this to Bucky. He’s so good to me, he doesn’t deserve this! We can’t, we can’t–”
“He’ll understand.” Steve says firmly, keeping a tight hold on you. “It’ll be hard for him, but once he sees that we’re in love, he’ll understand. And it’s good for him too, because this way he can find a mate who is better suited for him.”
Through the haze of Steve’s smoky firewood and hot summer day scent, you think back to Bucky and his crinkled smile. How he’d been the first one to speak to you on your first day, how he’d walked you to the library and how at ease you’d felt with him. How his lopsided smile, sparkling eyes and effortless charm had reeled you in. All the nights spent cuddling or watching TV or just talking and talking and talking. How respectful he’d been of your boundaries; how sweet and patient and intuitive he’d been any time you felt uncomfortable or upset.
How he’d complimented you every chance he got, building up your self-esteem through his love and adoration. How his easy-going nature made you feel so comfortable… But yet not comfortable enough to let him in. And that’s when the guilt seems to attack every cell of your body, killing you from the inside out. Why? Why couldn’t you just let Bucky in? Why couldn’t you just love him? Why, why, why?
Why did it have to turn out this way?
“No.” You shake your head, trying to shake away the thick haze of Steve’s scent which seems to be corrupting your every sense. And when you next speak, your voice is firmer, and you wipe the tears from your face, and you sit up straight, and you shrug his hands off of you. “No, Steve. We can’t do this. I need to get out, I need to–”
Steve’s eyes narrow once more, “Omega, listen to me–”
“Let me out of this car! Just let me out, okay! I’m not doing this to him! You’re wrong, Steve! You’re wrong, wrong, wrong! I don’t like you like that!” You rattle the door handle desperately, but of course it doesn’t budge. “Let me out, Steve! I can’t think in here, I need to get out! I need to speak to Bucky, I need to… I need to…”
You feel yourself going lax in his arms, your limbs turning to jelly as he places his hand on your mating gland, fingers pressing down. It sends thrills and shivers up and down your body as he draws you back to him, closer and closer till he’s embracing you.
“I’m your alpha.” Steve whispers in your ear, and the possessiveness in his tone rocks you to your very core. “You’re my omega, all mine. It’s like you were made for me. And that’s all that matters.”
You’re about to protest once more, and then you feel his teeth graze against your mating gland. It feels peculiar, thrilling, dangerous all at the same time. But the threat of his action doesn’t register immediately, and it takes you a second too long to realise, and then–
“No, Steve, don’t! Don’t!”
A blood-curdling scream leaves your mouth. Steve’s teeth are sharp and unforgiving as they clamp down on your mating gland. And his bite if so painful, like he’s chipping and tearing away at any traces of autonomy left in your body. The sensitive skin of your neck breaks and tears along with the last remnants of your independence.
Everything stills around you. Everything but Steve. He’s all you can feel now. His heartbeat, loud and wild. Or is that your heartbeat? Everything feels different, nothing is the same. It’s all Steve. All of your senses are Steve. All of your feelings are Steve.
“I’m never gonna let you go.” Steve whispers against the fresh wound on your neck, licking at his handiwork which will soon turn into a mark that brands you as his forever.
His presence around you is infinite. The intense heat of his aura mixed with his addictive scent, hitting you from all angles like a tidal wave.
And, like a bittersweet film coming to an end, it washes away the memory of Bucky before you even have the chance to say goodbye.
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SDKGKSLAG OKAY.
So.... did I just present y’all with a Steve x omega fic disguised as Bucky fic?? Despite hyping the Bucky fic for MONTHS? Well... *dodges tomatoes* Yes. Yes I did. I’M SORRY BUCKY GIRLIES. STOMEGA FOREVER. This was the plan from the start, because it doesn’t matter if Bucky asked for omega’s number first - she would always end up with Steve. In any AU. In every AU. ANYWAYS. GUYS. I hope you liked it and I hope you’re not mad! I really really really would love to know what yall thought! Like genuinely, I jsut NEED to know what you guys thought of this bc honestly... I am not so sure AHHHHH. okay i’ll shut up now. Bye.
1K notes · View notes
nickfowlerrr · 1 year
Text
fawn
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pairing: dark!stucky x curvy!reader
warnings: 18+ ONLY. kidnapping. noncon/dubcon. only bucky x reader smut. pet names. if i’m missing something important pls lmk!
words: 6.3k
notes: this is what i wrote when my power went out on christmas lmao. if this does well and people like it i’d definitely consider a part two with more stucky smut - just let me know if you guys like this and would read a continuation. 🖤thank you in advance for reading! as always, comments and reblogs are welcome and appreciated!
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One click. No flame. Another click. Still nothing. Huffing, you readjust your hold of the lighter. The smell of Christmas already permeating the air, the aroma from the opened but still unlit candle bringing you the slightest bit of ease.
It was cold already and now with the heater out, it was biting. Regrettably your blankets were still sitting in your washer, and with the lack of power, they’d be there until it came back on and you could get them in the dryer.
You made to ignite the lighter again and it finally gave you a flame. Once you had your candle lit, you eased back down onto the couch. The sun was setting and the chill from outside was already seeping into your apartment. Pulling your knee highs back up, you sighed, taking in the darkness that would soon swallow you completely.
So much for finishing that stupid puzzle. You couldn’t see anything. The rattling of the balcony door pulled you out of the silence and had the pit that was already growing in your stomach grow deeper.
Voices from outside, coming from the hallway distracted you from the unpleasant shaking of the door. It was the wind, you knew that, but with each moment, it grew darker and darker and the unexpected noise was unsettling to say the least.
You were alone. And the solitude was welcome, mostly. That underlying, gnawing feeling of loneliness that was somehow always there, no matter how hard you tried to shake it, was starting to get the better of you. Momentarily. Always passing eventually. Or, more accurately, always shoved back down eventually.
The darker it got, you somehow found yourself settling further and further into it. As if it was welcoming you back. The silence, the flicker of the candle, the scent of pine and vanilla softly filling the room. This was okay. This was nice, even.
You felt yourself beginning to doze off, but the cold worked to keep you awake.
It wouldn’t be too long before they got it back on. An hour, tops. Then you could dry your blankets, maybe get a few more pieces of the puzzle put together before you slunk back into bed. A very merry christmas, indeed.
Sun was completely set now, no shadows coming in from the windows. No more watching the swaying of the trees outside. Just flickers of the candle flame dancing along the wall.
Then you heard it again. The rattling. If you had your tv on, or music playing, you were sure you wouldn’t have heard a thing. But in the silence, even a quiet disturbance was audible. Then there was that feeling again. That pit in your stomach. Something’s not right, it called.
Paranoia. That’s all it was.
Intuition, your mind argued.
It was Christmas night, most people were still gone for the holiday weekend, your building near desolate. Who would it be? When do crimes even happen here? It was ridiculous to worry. It’s the wind. Of course it’s the wind.
The creaking that sounded next, though. That wasn’t as easily explained. You froze, just listening. To ensure you heard what you thought you did. Was someone on the balcony? How would that even be possible? You waited. And waited. No more noise. But something was telling you not to let it go. You stayed seated, curled up into the corner of the couch, just staring at the door. You couldn’t see it clearly, the flame not strong enough to illuminate that far from its place on the coffee table. But you could see enough. Enough that as you watched, you suddenly saw the handle move, as if someone outside was opening it.
You always wondered how you’d react in situations like this. Flight or fight, what would you do?
Neither, apparently.
Because you didn’t move. You were like a deer in headlights.
Right, freeze response. You’d forgotten about that possibility. There was another, too, actually. What was that one called? You couldn’t remember.
F..it starts with an f…
The whole while you were trying to think, your eyes were trained on the door. You just watched. Watched as the figure cloaked in darkness let themselves into your apartment. Did they know you were here? Would they care? You weren’t even sure you were breathing as you stayed as still as possible. Maybe the darkness would conceal you. This stranger would take whatever they wanted, and you just prayed the lights would stay out until they were gone. Just be still. Be silent. Not that you could move or make a sound if you’d wanted to. It was like you were paralyzed by fear. The figure didn’t seem to notice you, not even looking in your direction.
The candle. The candle was lit. Was this person oblivious? It was a dead give away that someone was home. The intruder stayed quiet, didn’t seem interested in anything as he walked from the balcony door, across the living room to the front door.
Without thinking, your body was moving of its own accord. You rushed quietly behind them, into the hallway, still encompassed in the dark. You felt your way to your room as fast as you could without running into any walls or making sound.
Your front door opened, and you were confused now. Were they leaving? What was the point of breaking in in the first place?
“Took you long enough.”
The voice of a man, husky and gruff sounded from the front room.
“Shut up,” another man spoke, irritation clear in his voice. “Lock the door.”
Your brain stopped working for a moment. Two voices? Why were there two voices? Why were these men here? Do they know you’re here? What do you do now? Run? Hide? Where was your phone?
Dead. Right. It had died right before the power went out, you’d put it to charge but obviously that wasn’t happening at the moment.
A flash of light hit the hallway as the men walked past back into the living room. You didn’t want to move. Your room was so close, but you didn’t want to risk making a sound and bringing any attention to yourself. So you stayed frozen.
“How is breaking and entering into a crappy apartment supposed to be a christmas gift?” one of the men asked.
“It’s what’s in the apartament that’s the gift,”
“What’s in the apartament?”
“I should’ve worded that better,” the second man corrected. “Not what, but who.”
Three seconds behind. You were running on a delay now. Who?
You.
Three seconds.
Two sets of footsteps down the hallway.
One beam of light shining right at you.
Frozen. For a moment. No noise escaping you. The light too bright, blinding you as you winced. You still couldn’t see them. Not clearly. But they were tall. Bulked. You wouldn’t be able to get away from them if you tried. Funny how that thought came to you just a few seconds after you did.
Arms wrapped around your middle, and you were suddenly being pressed against one of the men as he held you, your back to him, keeping you tight against his chest. Still no sound leaving you. Just breathing, heavy breaths coming progressively quicker.
“Ah ah, princess,” he tutted in your ear as you stared wide-eyed into the darkness before you.
You fell asleep. That’s what happened. This was a dream. Just a bad dream, and you’d wake up any second now. That was the only explanation. Because this wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be happening.
“Don’t cry, dove,” he soothed. “Not gonna hurt you, just wanted to introduce you to a pal of mine.”
You hadn’t even noticed the tears as they began welling in your eyes. He was speaking as if you knew each other. Like he knew you, intimately. The tone of his voice, the apparent affection. It was decidedly unnerving.
Your name fell off his tongue as if he’d spoken it a million times before, sending a chill through you as a small whimper finally managed to escape you. The flashlight was now shining on the man you were made to face. Dark hair, stubble on his jaw, piercing blue eyes cutting straight through you. You’d consider him pretty if this was a meeting under different circumstances. There was a look of contemplation on his face as he considered you. His gaze flicked from you to the man still holding you, a question clear in his eyes. Question.. or maybe an accusation.
“This is Bucky,” the man introduced. “I think you two are gonna get along real well,” he sounded almost excited. There was a tense moment of silence after he spoke, your eyes seemed glued to Bucky, your lip wobbling as you stood stock still against the stranger behind you. A painful squeeze of his arms around your waist, and you could feel his strength in his movements. You were sure he could break a rib, crush you easily if he wanted to. His hand gave your waist a squeeze as if he was waiting for you to do something.
“You’re normally so polite, princess. Use your manners. Say hello,” he instructed harshly. Normally so polite. Do you know this man? You started racking your brain for suspects, obviously someone you knew, someone you’d met.. Then suddenly your cheek stung, and you were brought back to the situation. He just slapped you? You blinked at Bucky, seeing him again as you refocused on reality.
“Hello,” you uttered weakly, breathily. You barely heard yourself.
Bucky narrowed his eyes at you, his mouth slightly agape as if he wanted to say something. He didn’t. His eyes shifted back to his friend instead.
“This is your idea of a Christmas present?”
“I’m telling you, Buck, you’re gonna love her. She’s the sweetest thing, you’ll see,” he insisted, you could practically hear him smiling as he spoke of you like you weren’t even there. “She’s exactly what we’ve been looking for. She’s perfect.”
It was like your brain just couldn’t quite compute what you were hearing. You couldn’t make sense of it. All your thoughts were still trying to guess who this man holding you was. The maintenance man who came over last week for the leak? No, his voice was way deeper and he was stoutly. The guy at the grocery store who stopped you on your way to your car just to tell you how pretty he thought you were? He wasn’t nearly as built as this man was, you could feel his solid chest against your back, his biceps around you were muscular, nothing like the guy from the store. Was it the bookstore? The place you went to get your oil change? Hell, the drive thru worker from last night? You had no idea. You couldn’t place the voice anywhere.
“We’ll see about that,” Bucky groused. “Let her go, Steve, she’s not gonna run. Are you, sweetheart?” he directed at you.
Frozen. You opened your mouth ever so slightly to speak, but no words fell out. You blinked once. Twice. Finally you managed to shake your head, it was almost imperceptible, but he accepted it. Steve’s arms fell from around you as Bucky took a step closer. You didn’t move, didn’t even think to. Not even as the power kicking back on served as a distraction for half a second. You stayed where you were, only wincing again at the lights coming on. You could see him better now. He was dressed in all black, the darkness of his clothing and hair only made his eyes that much more striking.
“You got a pretty face,” he said appreciatively, his lip twitching upward slightly. You didn’t know why you couldn’t look away, your eyes locked on him.
There was a loud bang, you jumped at the crashing sound, turning to watch Steve as he proceeded to trash your living room. As your eyes landed on him, it took you a moment to put it together. Steven. So you did know him, albeit vaguely. Every Wednesday, without fail, you’d somehow arrive at the coffee shop you frequented at the same time he would. He’d always hold the door for you. You never really spoke, but he seemed so nice. Chivalrous.
What was he doing? What was happening? Why?
Your television hit the floor as you gaped at the sight.
“What?” you breathed out, confused.
“Sorry, gotta make it look like there was a struggle. Don’t worry, you won’t miss a thing,” Steve assured you.
“I don’t- I don’t understand,” you started babbling. “What’s- why are you - what do you want? Why are you here? What’s happening, I don’t - I”
Gloved hands were on your arms as you began sputtering, turning you to face Bucky once again. His hand found your cheek, cupping your face gently as he looked you in the eye.
“Nothing you need to worry about, doll. We don’t wanna hurt you. So you’re gonna be good and listen to every word we tell you, won’t you?”
You kept staring at him, bloodshot doe eyes meeting his sharp, icy blue ones. You didn’t respond, but you allowed him to nod your head for you as you maintained eye contact.
“Good girl,” he smirked. “We’re gonna let Steve do what he needs to do and you’re gonna show me where your room is,” he instructed, turning you to face the hallway.
You walked without thinking, just doing as he told you. You didn’t want to make matters worse.
Flipping the light on, you entered the room. Bucky followed close behind you and moved further in even as you stopped right past the door.
“You got any preferences for clothes?” he asked as he looked in your closet. “We have some stuff, but I’m not sure they’ll fit you,” he said, looking you up and down. “Yeah,” he continued, agreeing with himself, “doubt it.”
You were just standing there like an idiot as he rifled through your belongings. You don’t know how much time passed before he got your attention again. He whistled as he held up a piece of lingerie from your drawer. He turned and held it up in front of you.
“I can see it,” he simpered. “You buy this for someone special, doll? Or maybe someone special bought it for you?” he prodded.
You simply shook your head, looking down now trying to avoid his lecherous gaze. He didn’t force you to speak, and you got the feeling he liked the fact you didn’t. Liked that you were being so obedient for him already. He shoved the lingerie into the duffle bag he’d found in your closet which he had already filled with a bunch of random clothes.
“I don’t know if we’re gonna be able to swing back around here,” Steve said casually as he entered the room. “If there’s anything important you want to bring, I’d grab it now, princess,” he told you.
“Where am I going?” you asked cautiously.
“You’re coming with us. We have our place all set up and ready for you. You won’t have to worry about a thing,”
“Time’s ticking, sweetheart. You heard Stevie, you want to bring something specific, go get it.”
You couldn’t think. They were taking you somewhere. They were packing your things. Steven , Steve, said you were perfect, but perfect for what? You then started to fret over leaving something behind. What if you really never came back here, what if all your things were just gone once you left with them. What do you grab, what should you take with you? That was easier to focus on.
You walked slowly over to your bed and grabbed your throw blanket, it was a security blanket, really. You never slept well without it. You watched as Steve walked into your bathroom with his phone out, he was taking pictures of your toiletries and beauty items. He must have felt your eyes on him because he looked back at you, smiling when he met your gaze. “We’ll get you new stuff, you don’t have to worry about bringing any of this.”
“This is going a lot smoother than it normally does,” Bucky said skeptically as he watched you give nearly no reaction.
“I told you, Buck. She’s perfect,” Steve repeated, smirking now as he turned back to continue making note of your things. “That’s what happens when we’re patient and wait for the right one instead of just trying to make random girls work,” he said, seeming to try and point a finger at his partner.
“She’s not putting up even a little bit of a fight,” Bucky mused aloud as he approached you, ignoring Steve and eyeing you darkly. “Why is that, doll?” he asked.
A few more steps and he was directly in front of you, eyes bearing into your own.
“Oh,” he breathed, a wry smile creeping on his lips. “I see it now,” his hands were on your face, holding you as he stared deeply into your bleary eyes, “you’re terrified, aren’t you?”
A broken whimper broke past your lips as you began to tremble slightly. Things were catching up now. The gravity of your situation, the insanity and brazen entitlement of these men in your home, speaking of you like you weren’t able to hear them, talking about taking you with them, how ‘perfect’ you were, the realization of it all, everything compounding, slamming into one another, sending you reeling.
It felt like only fifteen seconds had passed since you watched the balcony door open. How did all of this happen so quickly? It was like you weren’t even there. Just watching everything from an outsider's perspective. Passive. You were so passive.
You just wanted them to leave. You didn’t want to fight them, what point was there in that. You didn’t want to try and run, again, what would be the point? It was clear you weren’t getting away from them and they weren’t planning on leaving you. The only thing you could do was...nothing. Just let them do as they wanted, and try not to make things worse for yourself. Don’t provoke them or put yourself in more danger. They said they didn’t want to hurt you. All you had to do was listen. Just listen, you repeated over and over in your head.
The pressure of Bucky’s hands on your face increased slightly, the material of his gloves rough against your skin as he wiped at the stray tears that had started to fall again. All you could do was nod. He was right. You weren’t doing a thing to stop them because you were scared. You were utterly terrified.
“That’s okay, sweetheart. You’re doing perfect, listening real well, doing what we tell you,” he praised. “You know, Stevie, this just might be the best gift you’ve ever given me,” he called to his partner while he continued staring, his eyes taking in every detail of your face, lingering on your pouty lips.
You were a present. Not a person. At least not to them.
“Let’s see just how obedient you can be,” he said, his voice lower, darker. He was even closer now, you could feel the heat radiating off of him as he was nearly right up against you. Your chest was heaving from your stuttering breaths. Dread setting in the pit of your stomach as his touch left your cheeks and instead drifted down your body.
“Not here, Bucky.” Steve’s harsh words had Bucky’s hands halting in their exploration.
He sucked his teeth before taking a step back and turning to face Steve.
“You can wait another two hours,” Steve griped before turning his attention to you, softening slightly. “That’s all you want to bring, princess?”
“Why are you doing this to me?”
The question left your mouth before you even registered it as a thought. You saw Steve’s jaw clench as he narrowed his eyes ever so slightly at your question. If you had to worry about stoking someone’s ire, it was clearly Steve’s. He worked to calm himself, taking a breath before he responded to you.
“I guess we haven’t really explained what’s happening here, have we?
See, Buck and I, we’ve been looking for a pretty little dove like you for a long time, now. But they were just never right. We gave up for a bit, decided the right girl would come along when she was ready. And then I walked right into you one morning. You remember it, don’t you? You were walking into the coffee shop as I was coming out. I wasn’t really paying attention, it was completely my fault, but you were so sweet.. Caring, understanding. Those are rare traits nowadays, ya know. I’m not sure exactly what it was about you that struck me, but I just knew..
I knew you were the one for us. Kept an eye on you for a while, I wanted to learn more about you, get to know you better. And turns out you’re as sweet as I thought you were. Lonely as us, too. We’re the perfect fit. I could see just how much you needed someone.
The number of times I’ve had to watch you cry all alone from the outside looking in, it was like torture,” he confessed as his hands were suddenly on your face, wiping at your tears. You hadn’t even registered him getting closer, didn’t notice him brushing past Bucky to take the spot he had been in, in front of you. “But you won’t ever have to do that again. You won’t be alone anymore, not with us. It’s a win-win situation, princess. You get to get out of this shithole, leave all the stress behind you, no more responsibilities - aside from taking care of us. But we’ll be taking care of you, too. I know this might seem scary, sudden, but it’s for the best, I promise. For all three of us,” he finished, looking back at Bucky who’s eyes were still set on you.
When Steve finally backed away from you, granting you some space, Bucky was quick to return to your side. He was intent on you, not wanting you to get very far from him, though you were hardly moving.
After Steve trashed the rest of your apartment, Bucky had the thrown together bag of clothes slung on his shoulder, ushering you in front of him to trail behind Steve.
When you’d made it downstairs to the parking lot of your complex, you were led to a sleek, blacked out fully tinted SUV. Steve went to the driver’s side and Bucky opened the back door for you. He helped you in and then climbed in right next to you. You heard Steve scoff as he looked back at him, but he didn’t say anything as he started the car and drove out of the lot.
You stared ahead blankly as the car made its way through and out of town, you were aware of the men talking back and forth, but the conversation didn’t include you - at least not that you heard. You were sure Steve would make it clear if he was expecting an answer from you, the way he had earlier, so you let yourself zone out.
What had you done wrong?
How did you find yourself in this position? It was Christmas. You were alone and vulnerable. How long had Steve been watching you? How long had you been a target and you hadn’t even realized?
Fuck, you were so stupid. Stupid, pathetic, and pitiful.
You didn’t even try to get out of this, just went along with them.
The feeling of a gloved hand settling on your leg brought you back to reality for the moment, looking down just as Bucky squeezed your thigh.
“If I had let me in on your plans, I could’ve gotten some stuff ready for her,” he spoke to Steve as his hand idly toyed with the top of your knee highs.
“What we have already will be fine for now. Besides, I didn’t wanna spoil the surprise.”
There was a beat as Bucky fiddled with your stockings, contemplating as he brushed his gloved fingers over your exposed skin.
“What’s our ETA?” he asked Steve.
“Another hour.”
He nodded, a hint of a smirk on his lips, “More than enough time,” Bucky responds smoothly, pulling you onto his lap just the same as you yipped in surprise.
“Jesus Christ,” Steve mutters.
“Don’t be jealous Stevie, you’ll get your turn, too. She’s my present isn’t she? You got your gift earlier, why can’t I have mine now?”
“She’s ours,” he nearly growled in response.
“Guess that means you still owe me one, then,” he taunted back while his hands found your ass, groping you through the material of your shorts while you stayed as still as possible on his lap, though the lull of the car driving down the interstate didn’t make that an easy task. You eventually grabbed onto his shoulders to keep yourself upright as Steve passed yet another car, the speed threatening to send you into the door if not falling forward on top of Bucky.
Your unintentional wiggling had Bucky groaning and you could feel his erection growing beneath you.
“You make a mess back there, you’re cleaning it,” Steve warned.
All you could focus on, despite your every attempt not to, was the feeling of Bucky’s hands on you as you were forced onto his lap. Grabbing at your ass, running under your shirt, up and down your back, along your waist, gripping your wide hips as he began rocking you atop him. His bulge was rubbing against you with every move and though you tried to fight it, a stirring.. a tingling sensation in your core began to overshadow your fear and disgust.
Your hands were holding tightly onto him, one hand on firm muscle, the other seeming to cling to something more solid. It was an arm, but not one made from flesh and bone.
Bucky’s hands still on your hips suddenly forced you to sit fully down on him. You could feel his strength in the movement, you didn’t consider for a second trying to stop his hands as they slid down into the back of your bottoms, knowing it wouldn’t stop him. He grabbed your ass, his eyes hungry as he stared at you. He swiftly moved his hands up your back and pulled the hem of your top up and off of you in a flash.
You felt exposed and more scared than you’d been earlier, but deep down you had to have known this was coming. Of course it was.
He grabbed your breasts through your thin bra, kneading them in his still gloved hands. He took a second to finally rid himself of them and when you saw the metal of his left hand, you couldn’t help the audible breath you took as he brought it directly to your throat, squeezing enough to have you shiver but not to interfere with your breathing. He smirked as you subtly sank into him further with the show of dominance before he let his hand wander down and around your back to unclasp your bra.
Pulling the bra off of you easily, he pushed you back so you were up against the passenger’s seat as he ogled your chest. His hands wandered from your throat down to the waistband of your shorts, squeezing you, tickling you, playing with your breasts and teasing your nipples before he pulled you closer again, his head falling to your chest as he took one into his mouth. You worked hard to stifle the moan that threatened to escape when he suckled at you. His touch was all consuming and overpowering. The warmth of his mouth on your breasts, the way he held you to him, keeping your hips rocking against his as he groaned against your skin.
You were completely defenseless and had no plans of trying to fight back, no plans at all to try and stop it from happening. What good would it do? You’d let him have his way, do whatever it was he wanted to do and just get it over with.
He pulled off of you just as Steve sped around another car, you fell forward into Bucky, not bothering to right yourself, just letting your body rest against his, your head on his chest now. His hands found the waistband of your bottoms again and he worked to get them down your thick legs, not an easy task in the position he had you in. He barely managed to get them past your ass before he unceremoniously lifted you nearly over his shoulder and over the seat so you were leaning over him as he tugged them the rest of the way down. You were only then vaguely aware of your lack of shoes, briefly you wondered how you didn’t notice that when you first left your apartment. Your thong sliding down your calves, over the knee highs he left on you, had you refocusing on what was currently going on. You heard his zipper and felt him messing with his pants and it was only another second or two before you were pulled right back down onto Bucky’s lap, a mix between a gasp and a moan escaping you and a hiss escaping Bucky as his firm, hard cock pulsed against your bare pussy.
“Sit,” Bucky ordered firmly. You inched down only a bit more, earning a slap to your ass before he spoke again, “Sit. Down,” he growled.
You obeyed without another word, sitting fully on his exposed lap, the zipper of his pants rubbing against your skin as you did.
“Good puppy,” he praised darkly as he grabbed your face, pulling you to him and forcing eye contact. “I don’t like repeating myself, sweetheart. We’ve only just met, so I’ll give you a free pass this time. And I know you won’t do it again, will you, doll?”
“No,” you ekked out breathily, feeling the tears renew in your eyes. You shuddered as he kissed your temple before reaching between you and grabbing his cock, pumping himself once before he had you lift up for him, placing himself at your entrance. You squeezed your eyes shut tightly, your arms wrapped around his neck, the only thing keeping you steady as the shame of your arousal consumed you.
“Pussy’s all nice and wet for me, already, huh?” he teased.
You had nowhere else to go so buried your face in his neck, trying desperately to hide from the humiliation. His hands were on your hips and he didn’t give you any warning before he pulled you down, fully seating you on his dick, the air rushed from your lungs at the shock and stretch you were entirely unprepared for. He groaned deeply, a heady, “fuck”, tumbling from his lips as he held you there a second while you whimpered and cried.
“Son of a bitch, you’re so fuckin’ tight,” he growled before gripping your hips tighter, surely leaving bruises. You didn’t do anything, couldn’t move if you’d wanted to. You were gripping onto him like your life depended on it and somewhere deep down you were scared it just might.
Ten seconds passed and he just kept you there, sitting pretty on his cock while you cried into his neck. His grip lightened on your hips and he moved one hand to rub your back, clearly his attempt to ease you.
“Relax,” he soothed, “just take it. Take my cock like the good puppy I know you are,” he said, punctuating his sentence by thrusting up into you, making you cry out in response.
He was too thick. It hurt. Sure there was an underlying pleasure that was making its way to the surface the longer he stayed still, allowing you to adjust to the intrusion, but it was still uncomfortable. And being naked and exposed to the chill air in the car only made you more frigid. Even the heat coming off of Bucky wasn’t helping. You were covered in goosebumps and you had tear streaks still running down your face. You were a mess, a whimpering pathetic mess. Nothing more than a frightened little puppy, just like he knew you’d be.
A jolt of pleasure shot through you as his thumb was suddenly on your clit, rubbing in tight circles as you moaned weakly before laxing against him even further, inadvertently taking more of his cock inside you.
“Just like that,” he praised, giving you another few seconds to adjust to him. “Want you to bounce on my cock, you think you can handle that, doll?”
You shook your head, still hiding your face in his neck, not wanting to see the way he was looking at you.
He laughed darkly at your response before reframing your hips with his hands, “That’s alright, puppy. We’ll try again when your little pussy’s used to me. It’ll take some training, but you’ll get it eventually. I don’t have a problem doing it myself right now,”
All you could do was cry as he held your hips down on him, fucking up into you relentlessly, the material of his pants scratching at your delicate skin and his hold on you leaving marks you were sure you’d see in the morning. Your tits were bouncing as you bit your lip, groaning at the sensations shooting through you while Bucky cursed and growled, moans leaving him with every thrust into you.
“Please,” you cried, “please, please, please,”
“Fucking hell, Bucky, don’t break her before we even get her home,” Steve interjected sharply between your cries.
“You can’t feel the way she’s gripping me, she fucking loves it,” he panted, slapping your ass as he continued fucking you.
“Hurts,” you mewled desperately, hoping he’d take pity on you and at the very least slow down.
“Poor pup,” he patronized, keeping his pace as you clung to him.
“Buck,” Steve snarled from the front of the car.
Bucky grunted but soon slowed his movements, and began moving you up and down on his cock by your hips, lifting you and having you sit right back down, the new motion stimulating your clit with every tilt of your hips.
You walls clenched down on him as he slapped your ass again, groaning and growling as he kept you riding him.
His movements were slower, but he had you taking him deeper than before. “Fuck yes,” he moaned lowly, throwing his head back as he bit his lip and squeezed his eyes shut as he groaned. His grip tightened on your hips as he felt you getting closer.
“You wanna come, sweetheart?” he teased, only getting a whine from you in response. He chuckled again, “You don’t have to deny it, doll. I know it feels good for you, too. I can feel your cunt tryin’ milk my cock. Don’t worry, I’m gonna give you exactly what you need, baby,”
His thumb found your clit again, playing you expertly as you writhed on his cock, unbidden moans falling from you as you felt a coil tightening in your lower belly.
“I’m gonna give it to you, you’re gonna take fuckin all of it. But you’re gonna come on my cock first,”
That coil wound tighter, and tighter, and tighter with each swipe of his thumb in tandem with his thrusts until you couldn’t hold it or fight it any longer and it finally snapped. A white hot heat running through your body as you cried out, holding onto Bucky as you came undone. The feeling of his warm cum hitting your walls as he finished inside of you registered too late, not that you could’ve done anything to stop him anyway. The post orgasmic haze quickly faded with the reminder of reality.
You slumped into him again as you began sobbing. His arms held your naked body against his fully clothed one as he relaxed, leaning back into the seat while a hand rubbed your back and you wore yourself out with the tears that fell.
“No tears, puppy. You did such a good job,” he cooed, only making you cry harder despite how exhausted you were.
He was right, you did a good job for him. Didn’t fight, didn’t try to stop it. Just let him have you, however he wanted. You were a coward. Terrified of being hurt, you let him hurt you. You could hate yourself for your lack of self preservation, but when you really thought about it, this was your self preservation. They could easily hurt you worse. They could kill you if they wanted and you’d never stand a chance. You didn’t want to live like this, but you didn’t want to die, either. You weren’t sure yet, but the latter certainly seemed like the worse option.
Just be good and don’t give them a reason to hurt you. That’s all you had to do. That’s all you could do.
Bucky kept you on him, stuffed full of his cock and cum while he held you against him.
You whimpered when you felt his cock get hard again inside of you but he didn’t move you, just kept you sitting on him - keeping him warm.
“We’re not that far,” Steve spoke, waking you as your eyes threatened to close while you laid against Bucky, thoroughly exhausted.
“Good, she’s about to pass out on me already,”
“‘S’alright, dove,” Steve said to you, “You can sleep til we get home and we’ll bring you inside. You’re gonna need your rest. Our night’s just getting started. We’ve got a lot of celebrating to do now that you’re finally home.”
You couldn’t help it as your tears fell once again, and Bucky rubbed your back.
“You’re gonna love it, doll,” he reassured you. “And if you thought that was good you have no idea how much better it is when it’s all three of us. We’ll have you seeing stars, baby,” he simpered.
“Tomorrow we’ll get everything else sorted, but for tonight, we’ll just get you comfortable. The only thing you’ll be crying for by the end of the night is more.”
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georgiapeach30513 · 7 months
Text
Your Mark On Me, Part 3
Summary: you keep pushing his buttons...
Pairings: Steve Rogers X Reader
Rating: explicit
Warnings:  explicit language, explicit sexual content, degradation, dirty talk, non con/dub con, spanking, inspecting, spitting, fingering, squirting, oral sex (F receiving), skinny dipping, pussy job, just the tip, a bit of cream pie, 18+ ONLY
Word Count: 7.1K
Previous
Series Masterlist
*Tattooed Steve edit by @randomagnes0210
*Dividers created by @firefly-graphics
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You take a long look out the window, your eyes casting around in every direction until you see him. Bucky gives you a cheeky grin, holding up his hand, and you back away from the window, hiding yourself. Annoyed at not even being able to walk around in your panties in your apartment if you wanted to. He was always going to tell Steve. You couldn’t escape him. And staying cooped up in your apartment was thoroughly starting to piss you off.
It was supposed to be your break in between semesters, and you should be having fun. But no. Instead your every move is followed. You have a feeling Bucky even writes down what you do with time stamps just to let Steve know. He was there when you wake up, there when you leave your apartment, and even there when you go to sleep.
Did he sleep? Was he going to go crazy with a lack of sleep? You pace around the apartment, tempted to open your curtain, and put on a show for Bucky, just to piss Steve off. It’s what he deserved after he did what he did.
When he did what he did…
You hadn’t stopped thinking about that night. The moment when you had forgotten about everything around you, and just let him take you to a different world. A world of blinding pleasure. You had forgotten your name. There has been a numbness in you since that night. And you wanted him to help you live again, and also feared the things he was making you feel.
You ignored the frequent text messages from Steve. At night the messages got filthier, and you wanted to scream in your pillow. While his face was buried between your thighs, and he was doing whatever he did with his tongue, and even his teeth.
“No!” You scream out loud as your hands start to shake. What was wrong with you? Why was you letting this man lead you to temptation and right to a shortcut to hell?
You wanted him. You feared him. You hated him. You need him to…to do something. You didn’t want to say it, and couldn’t say it. This was new. All of it was new, and you didn’t understand Steve’s strong obsession with you. You! You? What was so special about you? Why did he want you? What was his end goal? Was it only to fuck you and then leave?
Taking another look out the window just to find Bucky in the same spot, sucking on a cigarette. He would know, Bucky knew everything. Putting on some coffee you leave your apartment, and walk out to Bucky, who stands up straight immediately. Hand at the phone in his pocket while he looks at you questioningly.
“Don’t call him,” Bucky struggles with your request. You were not where you were supposed to be. You hadn’t even left this town, and ventured back home. “Have some coffee with me. I feel bad that you’re out here all alone, all day and all night. It isn’t fair.”
“I have my orders,” his hand still taps along his pocket, and the last thing you want is for him to call Steve. You couldn’t handle Steve being in your home, and your place of peace.
“Some coffee would be good for you, come on,” you go to reach for his hand, but he stands up completely straight, and his eyes fix behind you. “I’m sorry.”
“Dove, you should know by now not to touch me; ever. Especially without him present. I’m running out of lives, and I don’t want to die today,” you give a little bite to your lip, your feet shuffling around nervously, wondering if you had pushed too far. You weren’t an idiot, even if you wanted to play as such.
Bucky wants to roll his eyes at just how perfect you are for Steve. How you had enough fight in you to keep things interesting, but also his undying love for innocence. For the chase, and you were running; sprinting away from him even if your body was yelling for him to come back. You just weren't so fast enough that Steve couldn’t catch you. “Fine. Coffee, but you deal with the consequences.”
“Consequences? For having coffee?” Oh you did love to play this silly little girl game. Judging by the swishing around of your thighs, you knew exactly what the consequences would be.
He leans close enough into you, whispering just slightly off from your ear, “Don’t play dumb, little bird,” before heading straight towards your building. “So?” He pauses, turning to look at you when you don’t move. “Are we having coffee?”
“Yes,” you answer with such certainty that it scares you.
“I see why he likes her,” Bucky mumbles, waiting for you to take the lead. He didn’t have to contact Steve. Steve would look down at his phone, and see that Bucky was in your apartment. Would see Bucky in your space, but with you. Alone. He could already feel Steve’s anger prickling on his skin once he realized where he was, and just who he was with. You were just dangerous enough to yourself, but also for Steve.
“So…what’s yours and Steve’s story?” You pour him his coffee, sitting at the bar, and push out a chair for him. He doesn’t take the chair, but instead lifts himself up on the counter. “You and him seem to go back further than him and Sam.”
“Steve trusts very few people. Sam and I are two of them. But you are correct in thinking that Steve and I have known each other longer. Sam has been more than loyal to the both of us,” your head tilts to the side, listening to Bucky. It was almost normal. Steve was anything but safe though. However, he had people that believed in something. Believed in him and whatever empire he was building.
“Why drugs?”
“Don’t worry about it,” he gives you a wink. Lifting his arm up to look at his watch with a smirk. “Why were you buying?”
“You know why. I needed to stay up to cram for finals. Math isn’t exactly my strong suit,” he cocks a brow up, while he drinks his coffee, and you almost feel guilty for staring at him. It was silly because you weren’t with Steve. You could look at whoever you pleased.
“Have you ever tried any other drugs?” Shaking your head rapidly, you cast your eyes to anything in the kitchen. Making silly notes about what you needed to do to keep it clean. Wondering where the cameras were in here. “Was that your first time?”
“Yes. I’ve always just taken my medication as it’s prescribed.”
“Ever been drunk?” You had piqued his interest. Bucky was just wasting time because Steve was already enroute, and he was about to be yelled at, but you were getting far more than screams. “Hmm?”
“No,” your voice whispers, and you dare to look back up at him. “I just recently became of age.”
“Wait…you’ve never had anything to drink?” You shake your head no. There couldn't’ be that much that you had missed from getting drunk. Alcohol stunk, and it was illegal for you to have consumed before now. “Wow, you really are…”
You jump off the stool, your mug shattering on the tile as Steve bursts through the door. His nostrils flaring, and his skin looked like it was on fire with the way his muscles are tensing up. Backing up from him with every step he takes closer to you.
Taking his eyes off you only to glare at Bucky, “I’ll deal with you later. Dovey,” he tsks, turning to look at you. He is too calm with his words, but the way he slung that door open, he was anything but calm. He was pissed off at you.
“You’ve been a bad bad girl,” you can only squeak, as you look around the apartment. “We both know there's no hiding places in here. I’ve looked at the blueprints, little bird. Where are you gonna run to?”
“Steve, don’t,” you gulp, flinching away as he tries to grab you.
“Do you remember what I told you about your tears?” You shake your head no. You couldn’t think. There is a searing light in your eyes and loud ringing in your ears that was keeping you from thinking straight. He had mentioned something about tears, but exactly what you can’t recall.
“When you cry all I can think about is splitting you open for the first time. It will hurt, Dovey. You will cry, and I will lick the tears off your cheeks, as I wait for that tight little cunt to stop screaming from the stretch.’
“Steve, please,” you tremble, but he moans in return. He mistook your pleads as begging. “I’m not begging!”
“And I’m not asking,” you scream as you dart past him, but his inky hand grabs onto your wrist, pulling you into his hard chest, and nearly knocking the breath out of you. Covering your wails with his hand as he hauls you over to the couch.
Letting himself sit down before he lays your belly over his lap. “I am thankful that you wear skirts,” hearing the malice in his voice only makes your entire body shiver with anticipation of what is coming next. “Bucky, close the door, while I have a chat with my little bird.”
“Steve, I’m sorry,” you hiccup. Wiggling around, you try to get off his lap, but it wasn’t helping. “I don’t know what I did…Bucky?”
“Don’t call for him. He protects you when I’m not around, he doesn’t protect you from me. Did he or did he not say you would have consequences for being alone with him?” You whimper as you nod your head, and you get a swift smack on your ass. “Words, Dove.”
“Yes, sir,” tears start flowing down your face, and it just angers you. This stupid man that rushed into your life has you draped over his lap like a toddler, and was intent in spanking you.
“And not only did you bring him in here with you alone, you then had the audacity to talk about me, hmm?” You don’t answer fast enough, and he smacks you again, but this time on the other cheek. Flattening his hand out, he rubs over the stinging skin.
“I didn’t…I-I-I didn’t know.”
“If you want to know anything about me, then you better fucking ask me. That sneaky bullshit will not fly with me. Do you understand?” Another smack on your ass with an even more soothing rub this time. “Can you fucking hear?” One more slap.
“Yes, sir. I under…understand. No!” He places his elbow on your back as he lifts up your skirt. Chuckling when each hand pulls apart your cheeks. “Steve, stop! Don’t look! Don’t!”
“Why not, Dovey?” He moans, leaning down closer he inhales deeply. What you assume was a pinky finger flicks up and down your cotton covered slit. “Your cunt is crying for me. Just as hard as those pathetic tears rolling down your cheeks. You know why we work, Dovey? I enjoy this just as much as you do.”
“I don’t,” he has your panties pulled down in one second. Each hand stretching your cheeks wide as he gazes at your virgin hole. Everything is too quiet as he stares at you in the most vulnerable state you have ever been in. Sure that Bucky was watching your core as hard as Steve.
Seconds go by that feels like hours. And then a drip of Steve’s saliva flows through your lips. “You’re a fucking liar,” his voice cutting deep inside of you. “Why are you lying? That tight light hole is clenching, Dove. She wants a big cock to fuck her so hard and deep, huh? Hehe,” he looks up at Bucky, pulling you even further apart.
“See, Buck. She’s throbbing just thinking about me fucking her. Look,” Bucky has been a target of Steve’s anger many times. And there was no right answer here. Steve would be offended if he didn’t look. “Dove, I’m going to fuck you so deep you feel me in your belly.”
“Oh,” Bucky tries to sound interested as your walls flutter around nothing. Searching for something to squeeze tightly. Pulsing in vain. But something more catches his eyes, “How are you going to fit in there?”
“Oh, I’ll make it fit,” he spits down to your center again as two fingers roam through your slick. Coating themselves in your juices, and you clench your eyes close. Biting on your lip as he plunges two thick fingers into your warmth, and you lift your head up sobbing his name.
“That’s just two fingers, pretty girl,” pumping his fingers in and out of you he moans at the sound of your wetness. Lewd squelching sounds scream into the quiet apartment. “See how easy I fit in there when you have a sloppy cunt like this? It’s because I am made for you, and this is my pussy. I wish you could see your pussy cling onto my fingers. She doesn't’ want to let me go. She is weeping out onto your legs just thinking about me, Dovey.”
He speeds up his motions, curling his fingers and he hits a spot inside of you that makes orbs of fuzzy light pop up in your vision. Sounds you have never heard before leak out of your mouth, and your body chases his fingers. Reacting and needing him to stay deep inside of you. And you seek out him to constantly fill you whole.
Hugging his digits so tightly that you can’t help but to pant out his name, “I know, baby. It’s what you’ve needed. You needed to be punished for acting like a sneaky bitch. But it gets you so worked up. Your body craves this attention. Has been begging for this, huh? You like this, Dovey?”
My god, you loved it. Thoughts just didn’t even register because of the paralyzing pleasure. You just take it. Take every bit of his fingers. Eyes rolling in the back of your head as he scissors himself deep inside of you. Pressing a thumb on your clit, and you speak in tongue.
Euphoria you have never felt. Your cum coats his fingers, but it only eggs him on. Going harder into you. The only thing for you to hold is his leg, and you dig your fingers into him. He hisses as he pounds into you. Not stopping until you're screaming his name, and you squirt out your release. And Steve moans, delighted at how messy you are.
“Good fucking girl!” Jerking his fingers out, he grabs you at the hips. Lifting your bottom up to him, and he buries himself between your thighs. Laving and slurping up every bit of your release. Moaning at your tastes as he sucks every bit of it up.
Your eyes roll into the back of your head, but as soon as it starts, he stops. Steve pulls apart your body, and stares at the tiny gape of your hole. You could take so much more, and he was tempted to add a third finger next time. But he wanted more than anything for you to cry when he bottoms out into you. Addicted to something he hadn’t properly got to experience. And that was all of you.
His sight never leaves your cunt as he tells Bucky to pack you a bag because the two of you were going on a short little trip. Bucky nods, knowing exactly where Steve was going to take you. He whispers a prayer for you. If Steve had it his way he was going to fuck this ‘brat’ right out of you.
Bucky wouldn’t call you a brat, but you knew what you were doing. Driving Steve crazy enough to both pleasure and humiliate you. One day you would learn, you didn’t have to push his buttons to get him to play with you. You had this power over Steve that neither of you understood. And Bucky had never witnessed anything quite like this.
“Dovey, if I hear you talk back to me once on this drive, you’re going to ride the rest of the way with two of my fingers in your cunt, and both your titties hanging out of your shirt. Please tell me that you understand.”
His hold loosens on you, and he gives you a moment to sit up. Waiting on you to roll your drenched panties back up your body, and you nod. You couldn’t look at him because he had seen such a private part of you, and showed Bucky, “Yes, sir.”
“Good, girl. You’re learning. Seems like you’re starting to break. Buck, you make sure Sam understands that the two of you are in charge,” Steve holds out his hand as he stands up. Waiting on you to take hold before he leads the two of you to the door.
“Steve, take it easy on her. She’s not ready,” he whispers to his friend, but Steve returns his warning with a smile. He was going to do whatever the fuck he wanted with you. You wanted to know about him, so he was going to give you the opportunity to ask. If you could focus. He’d tell you everything you need to know. He just hopes it’s the right questions.
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“Steve, I don’t want to be here,” your lip trembles as he steps out of the car. Stalking over to your side while you stare at only one thing. One cabin. In the middle of fucking nowhere. It had been miles since you even saw the las
“Steve, no!” Screaming as he opens your door. There isn’t any flight left in you. It is just complete shutting down. He holds out his hand for you to take, but you violently shake. He was going to murder you here. “Steve, don’t. Don’t!”
He gives a growl as his hands try to wrangle you out of the vehicle, and you thrash around. If you were going to die, at least you’d die trying. “Please, just…”
“You wanted to ask questions, now get out of the fucking car!” Pulling you a bit harder, you let your body turn to dead weight, and you drop to the ground with a hard thud. Blinking your eyes and coughing as you try to catch your breath.
“Would you shut up?” His voice rattles, hauling you up over his shoulder. “What exactly do you think I’m going to do to you? We’re going in the fucking cabin, and you’re going to ask your stupid damn questions.”
“B-b-b-but we’re alone! You’re going to…” dropping you onto the couch, his body hovers over you. Those blackened with ink arms caging you. He rolls his hips, and his hardening cock skims over your core, and you squeal.
“You like that, huh? You like feeling me on you?” His breath is hot on your skin as he does it again. “We’re all alone, Dovey, and no one can hear your screams when you take every inch of me.”
“I’m not b-b-begging.”
“Aw, but aren’t you?” Readjusting himself, his hand cups your covered core. The face of pure sadistic torture grins down at you. “You’re so hot and wound up you’re going to burn the cabin down, Dovey. You’ve ruined these panties, you're so wet. Quit letting your mind take control, and trust me.”
“I’ll never trust you,” it is something you felt deep within your soul. How could you trust someone that was like him? Someone that got off on your embarrassment, and enjoyed showing it to everyone. “You just want to use me.”
A flash of tattoos comes at your face, and his fingers dig into your cheeks as he grabs you tight. Forcing you to quit looking around, and look straight at him. “Dovey, if I wanted to use you, I would have had you that first night. I did you a kindness in marking you up. People know not to fuck with Steve Rogers. You’re just the stupid girl who came into my lair thinking you would outsmart me. Do you realize how many times I could have fucked you by now? I could have put the cameras on us, and let the club watch as I took the gift that could never be returned. And you’re the brat that wants to keep pushing my fucking buttons.”
You whimper as his weight starts to settle on your body. His monstrosity of a cock pressing into your center, and a flash of blinding light covers your vision, and all you can do is feel. Feel his pulse through his cock as it pounds right at your entrance, and the way his breath blows out over your face as he chuckles. You hate him.
“Sweetheart, it would loosen you up in more ways than one. You need this as much as I do. You’re denying us the ultimate pleasure when all you have to do is let me squeeze through your walls, break them down, too.”
Gulping, you keep perfect eye contact as your head twists back and forth, whispering out, “No.”
A rumble climbs up his chest, and the vibrations go right to your weeping cunt as he sits up. Putting his weight on his heels, and kneeling before you. His body keeps your legs wide, and he pulls up your skirt, watching your covered pussy as he pulls his shirt off.
He is a god amongst men. Rippling cords of muscle stretch over his chest, and it was accentuated perfectly with the most beautiful and intricate designs. The man clearly enjoyed art, but also pain. No inch of his chest wasn’t touched with a needle.
While you’re in a trance with his tattoos, Steve undoes his pants, and gives them a little tug down. “Oh my god!” You screech as his monster dick flops out of his pants. The only thing not covered in tattoos, and right at the tip. “You’re pierced?”
“If it scares you that much, our first time, I’ll take it out. It’s quite pleasurable for you,” Steve wraps his fist around the base, and gives the growing member a few pumps, “You can’t take your eyes off it. Have you ever seen a dick before?”
“Yeah. Plenty of times.”
“Tell me whose dick you’ve seen, little bird.”
“Why?” You look up at him, unblinking. There is a fire that is burning all the way from the pit of his stomach to his eyes. Looking almost demonic as his pupils spread out so wide.
“So I can kill them. No dick that has touched your body is going to stay alive,” he tilts his head to the side, smiling when you finally look up at his face. “I am very serious, sweetheart. Tell me. Their names.”
“I don’t know — I don't know their names,” he tenses in front of you, and you cover your eyes. “They were on the internet,” the walls of the cabin rattle with his booming laughter. While you’re trying to melt away, he runs the tip of his length over your panties, and you flinch. Trying to sit yourself up, but he pushes you back down.
“You mean to tell me I wasted showing you my cock, and it’s the first in life one you’ve ever seen? Dove, no wonder you’re on edge. You just about came undone from my tip at your panties, or maybe it was the piercing. You like the way this feels, my sweet little angel. Come on,” standing up, he fully gets undressed, proving that yes, he was pretty much covered in tattoos. His face and his dick are the exception. “They’re too pretty, darling. Let’s go.”
“Where?” It’s a struggle to sit up with the high emotions you have been feeling. Wobbly legs keep you from standing too quickly. There’s a dizziness that you feel in every part of your body.
“Bucky packed you a bathing suit, put it on, or join me in the hot tub naked. You need to relax,” there was a shift in his voice. Typically there is some grit to it. As if it was constantly filled with anger. Now it sounds — normal. He stands watching you as you try to process what it is you wanted to do. “Do I need to turn around for you to change? I wouldn’t advise running. There’s nobody here for miles. And if you run again, my patience and kindness will be gone, and I can’t promise what I will do.”
“Can I go get my bag?” He nods his head, gesturing for you to go out to the car, and you take careful steps. Counting each inhale and exhale as you walk to the car. Looking back at Steve who remains calm. He dares you to run just so he can capture you in his snares, but you won’t.
This time, you want to listen. Especially if he was going to grant you with asking questions. Bucky sucked at packing your bag. A shirt, panties, and the skimpiest bathing suit you owned. At least he remembered a toothbrush. Feeling a bit more irritated now, you walk back into the cabin, and gawk at Steve.
“Can you turn around?”
“Good girls say please.”
“And I didn’t,” giving you a crooked smile, he turns around. Giving you the smallest privacy to undress.
“I bet it feels nice to get out of those wet panties,” you ignore him. It did feel nice. Everything had started to stick to you, and it was like peeling wet clothes off. “That skin would look really pretty with a needle in it.”
“Why are you like this?” Looking up, you notice a mirror pointed right at you. Steve saw everything. Saw you undress, and didn’t look away.
“Tell me I didn’t make you so wet that you had to use your clothes to wipe your honey off your legs. We’re getting in a hot tub, Dove, it’ll wash right off.”
“Do you ever give privacy?”
“No. But you do have some nice tits. Let’s go,” Steve reaches back to give you a little tug, but you shake your head no, pointing at his dick. “Oh, I don’t get in the hot tub with clothes on. The anaconda will be underwater, you won’t be able to see him.”
“Clarence,” he scrunches his face up as you walk past him, and out on the back porch, assuming that’s where this hot tub was. You just need to not have that thing staring at you right now. “That’s what I’m going to call your penis; Clarence.”
“Clarence? Why not something like The Hammer or…”
“Clarence,” it’s what it was going to be. If he wanted you to look at it, you were going to give it a name that wasn’t so imposing. Steve walks past you, and settles himself into the pool. Giving a soft moan at how the heat was working out his own tension.
“Is it hot?”
“It is, but it’s not as hot as your tight little cunt. How’s she feeling?” Don’t answer him. Allow him his cocky little comments, and do what is asked. Make this easy and unpainful, and you’d feel better for it.
You wait on Steve to settle back into the water, and his eyes roam over your body hungrily. Watching as each inch of it gets swallowed by the heat, and he chuckles when you sit on the opposite side of him. Looking at anything that wasn’t Steve. He cracks his neck, and uses his thick fingers to trace around his lip, and he just smirks at you.
“I don’t like people who go behind my back.”
“I didn’t,” you finally meet his gaze, and it’s hard to look away. He is even sexier with water lapping up against his skin. The same skin that was setting your body ablaze. He had seared into every part of you, and your body craved him. Needed him to touch you.
“Didn’t Bucky tell you that there would be consequences?”
“Yeah, but…”
“I’m talking,” he interrupts, wading over closer to you. Both hands plant themselves on either side of you, and he stands up out of the water. His giant cock wet and bouncing right at your face. “You continue to talk over me, and I’ll slip something in your mouth to keep you quiet. Bucky warned you about the consequences of taking him into your apartment without me. You disobeyed. You chose to ignore him. Playing your stupid fucking childish game of being too naive to realize what you acting up does to me.”
He removes one hand from the back of the hot tub, and grips his cock. Rocking it right at your lips, but never touching you. “I can see it in your eyes how curious you are to know what a real cock feels like. I can show you.”
“I’m not begging,” you cross your legs, clenching them tight together. Refusing to let your pussy get you in any more trouble.
“Yet. Your body is, but your mouth is stubborn. Maybe I should give her a little taste. Come on, suck my dick and join me in the underworld.”
“Continue your threats.”
You whimper when his low growling laugh vibrates at your core. Wondering how he was able to make you feel him in a place he had hardly touched. “What do you want to know about me? I’ll give you five questions to ask, so you better make them count. That is going behind my back, little bird. You want to act all innocent, but you want to know what makes me tick. Why did I become who I am? So ask.”
“Why? Why do you do this?”
“I’m going to count that as two. Be careful next time,” sitting beside you, his hand runs up and down your thigh, and without realizing it, your legs start pulling apart. Giving him ample space to get to your cunt.
“I do this because I can control what’s out there. These streets ran rampant with cheap drugs cut with who the fuck knows. I sell pure. It costs more, but you won’t die from a damn accidental overdose because your drug of choice was laced with something. Three more.”
Your mouth drops open when his hand settles as high up on your thigh as possible sliding down, and rubs over the apex of your thigh, but never where your body truly wants it. You even lean back further, granting him more access, but his fingers don’t drift around. “How…why the playground?”
“You really fucking suck at this. There’s two more. You’re down to one question after this.”
“You’re fucking distracting me!” He grabs you up, placing you in his lap. Your body facing the same way as you. Using his legs to lock your own in place. Moving your bottoms to the side before pressing his dick right in between your pussy lips. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry!”
“You want to say fuck, you better make sure my dick is so deep inside you that you feel me in your filthy little mouth. I will not give you another chance, Dove. I mean it. I won’t wait for you to be blubbering, and crawling on your knees as you beg for me to be inside. I will take it. Is this your tactic, Dove? I don’t want to take. I want you to fully give that to me. You are so hot and slippery, you’re ready, but are you ready for me to have you down on your knees?”
“Please…” what were you asking him for? Why was he able to make you melt and repulse you simultaneously?
“Please just put it in there?” You shake your head no, and his mouth attacks your neck. Kissing and sucking at the sensitive column, while your hips buck up and down. Allowing his sinful dick to roam through your folds. His tip knocks against your clit, and you lean your head back against Steve.
“Easy, baby. You’re going to make yourself pass out before we get to the good part. That’s my playground. I have fond memories of bullies throwing me around the yard. If it wasn’t for Bucky, I would have died there. I promised myself that not only would I survive, but I was going to be bigger and meaner than any of those pieces of shit, and they would all cower just hearing my name.”
“Steve. Steve!” He is only holding his dick up against your body, it is you that is moving, grinding on him and searching for more, and terrified to have it. But he feels like heaven. He hadn’t even entered inside of you, and you are a mess.
“One more question, Dove. Be a good girl, and ask your pathetic little question since you need to know about the big bad drug lord that is following you around, and becoming more and more obsessed with you. Go on.”
“Why me?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” He is marking every inch of your neck with his filthy mouth. Yet again making sure that everyone knew that you were taken. And he would kill someone that would just look at you. Willing to murder anyone who’s cock you had seen. Even online porn couldn’t prepare you for this.
“I love challenges. I have this pretty little bird that is dying to be fucked deep and hard, but because of her upbringing or some shit, is denying herself pleasure. You need someone like me,” his voice starts going up an octave, and you grind on him faster. Harder. Both of you are needy and searching for something.
“That’s it, Dovey. I’m…I’m,” he holds your lips apart with two fingers, and presses his spongy tip in your entrance, and as soon as you are screaming at the intrusion, his cum spurts through you. Most of it spilling out, and mixing with the water, but some of it is a glorious warmth that you loathe.
He holds you in place, keeping you from squirming around as he looks down into the water, “I could do it you know. You’re breathing heavily, and this isn’t even the painful part. I’m getting tired of you acting like a little bitch. Do you see how easily I can take, Dove? Do you see that I have you right where I want you, but I’m giving you enough grace and power to tell me when our first time is?”
“But…you’re inside me…Steve, I wasn’t begging.”
“And I’m not fucking. I’m not even an inch inside. Enjoy my seed in you, Dove. Pretty soon it’ll be second nature to take my cock, and be filled with me. You wanted the consequences, this is it. But next time, it’ll be so much worse.”
“Just fuck me then,” you spit out, but he lifts you off him, and stands up. This time rubbing his tip over your pouty lips. You notice the bit of change in him, but keep your mouth shut. Letting him paint you with the remnants of the two of you.
“I’m no longer hard, and you’re not begging. But soon, Dove, soon you’ll wake up to me thrusting into you. You’ll sit on my lap, warming my cock while I distribute the drugs. You will be on all fours at the table, letting me inspect that greedy cunt before I plunge into her, and Bucky gets to see me fill your belly with my child. Get out of this tub, and let's go to bed.”
“Why are you so mean?”
“Why are you?” The audacity! You aren’t mean. “You’re mean to yourself, and I never said I was nice. Get out of this fucking tub, and let’s get in the bed.”
He doesn’t even turn around to look at you as he walks back into the cabin. There was no escape, and you are coming to realize that everyday that you are with him. Were you the problem here? Would it be so bad to let him inside of you?
Questions abound quickly in your mind, and you couldn’t process them long enough to answer. Allowing your body to go on autopilot just for tonight. Even if you are angry at what he just did. But are you? Are you really denying something that was living in between heaven and hell?
“Get in the bed,” Steve growls, pulling back the covers. “I have on underwear,” you gulp as you look around the room. Bucky hadn’t given you much thought to pack your clothes. Barely anything was in your bag.
“Here,” Steve says, tossing you a shirt. And you’re just stubborn enough, and still pissed at him from earlier. Undoing your bathing suit top you let it fall to the floor. Letting Steve angrily stare at your curves, and peaked nipples before letting the bottoms fall.
“You’re pushing me, Dovey,” he growls out. Stunned, and refusing to move. Your skin still damp from the tub. Water drips creating a trail right between your legs. “Dove!”
“Now, you know how it feels,” you’re sure you will pay for that later, but at this moment, it feels like you are taking the power back. You’re choosing to show him your body. Letitng him see how hard your nipples are with desire.
Pulling only his shirt on, you crawl onto the bed, tapping the other side, “Aren’t you going to get in?”
“You didn’t put panties on.”
“But you have on underwear. Seems a fair trade,” he grouses something under his breath, but crawls in behind you, pulling you completely flush with his body. Easing a thigh in between your leg, and pressing it firmly against your core. “Steve?”
“It’s my turn to ask questions,” he ignores your hands that try to push his hard leg away from you. Tense in his embrace, but he starts melting into you. Snuggling his face right behind your ear, and you hate the hold he has over you. “Why are you a virgin?”
“Because I haven’t had sex.”
He growls right up next to your ear, and you bite your lip. Hoping that he couldn’t feel how amazing that sound felt. “Why haven’t you had sex?”
The real question. You didn’t have a smart remark to get you out of it. He wanted the truth, and you weren’t ready to give it to him. “Because…”
“Because why?”
“That’s three questions, Steve.”
“I don’t care about the others. Just answer that one,” you wiggle around, wanting to actually give him the attention he wanted, but his hold is too great. “What are you doing?”
“I want to look at you while I answer,” immediately he lets you go. Waiting on you to flop to the other side, but he still pulls you in tight to him. Lifting your leg to throw over his hip. “I’ve never had this.”
“Yeah, I know. You’re a virgin. I’m sure if you laid like this with a — boyfriend,” the taste of that word is rotten in his mouth. No one deserved you. He didn’t deserve you, he was just desperate enough to capture you and make you his.
“No…not even that,” he cocks up an eyebrow as his features soften. He was beautiful. You had a crazy feeling no one ever saw this soft side of him. He had spent years creating his drug lord persona, that he forgot what being a lowly human was like.
“Boys aren’t interested in me. All my friends had them, and I…I was the third wheel. Or the fifth. But you get the point. No one has ever told me that I was — that I’m beautiful.”
He lets out an exasperated breath, and drifts closer to you. So close his lips brush against yours when he whispers your name, “You’re beautiful. And I’m no boy. I am a man, and you are mine. You don’t have to worry about all the boys that didn’t see you. The boys that didn’t realize what diamond that they had in front of them. And I won't have to worry about murdering them.”
“I’m thankful for that.”
“Look at me, and tell me that you’re beautiful,” it’s a strange request to make, but when you open your mouth nothing comes out. You were taught not to lie, and you didn’t fully believe it yourself. You had spent most of your life invisible, and no one ever noticed you, until this man came out of the shadows, and was trying to bring you into his own world of darkness.
“Say it. Tell me that you’re beautiful. Dovey, please,” you can’t. You shake your head no, letting your eyes start to close as you try and fight away the tears. He wasn’t going to see you cry. “You’re beautiful. And if I have to be the one to tell you that everyday for you to realize that you are, I will. Maybe that’s my purpose. You’re beautiful. You’re gorgeous. And sexy. And kind. And I want to corrupt you and bring you over into my darkness. Make you my whore, so you realize how irresistible that I find you.”
“Stop. Please, don’t…” he hears the crack in your voice. He would kill everyone that dared to make you feel unworthy. You were worthy. You were everything.
“You’re beautiful, darling. I have perfect vision, and I have seen a lot of women. None are as spectacular as you. Close your eyes, relax in my embrace because I’m never letting you go ever again. You’re stuck with me. I don’t want you to lose your fight, but just for tonight. Let’s call a truce.”
“Fine,” you mumble, finally letting his warmth envelop you as you relax in his embrace. It is an oddly satisfying and safe feeling. You were close enough to smell his musky cologne that lingered on his skin. His heartbeat creating a perfect rhythm to lull you to sleep, “Just for tonight.”
“Yes, yes, of course. Next time I’ll make sure we fall asleep with your cunt squeezing my cock,” insufferable asshole. You started to feel something. Not your body, but you. And then he opened his mouth. But at least it meant you weren’t falling. And you wouldn’t. Not with him.
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