#omega bucky barnes | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bucks-babe · 17 days

Text

Heated Punishment

Pairing: Omega!Bucky x Alpha!reader

Summary: Omega Bucky goes into heat, but his alpha isn’t too happy with him when he tries to hide from her

Warnings: Smut, mommy kink, omega!Bucky, sub!Bucky, soft!dom reader, also mean!dom reader, Bucky gets a boner fighting Natasha, handjob, edging, cock slapping, exhibitionism?, dirty talk, masturbation (Bucky), handcuffs, sex toys (cock ring), overstimulation, turns into free use?, begging, crying during sex (I have a problem), subspace, way too much cum but I couldn’t help myself, aftercare, worried Bucky

Word Count: 4.5k

A/N: Written with the amazing @buckys-wintersoldier and this was her idea so go give her some love! She really helped me so much with the direction of this fic. I can say that's the best a/b/o story i have ever read. And I'm in love with that! You should definitely give it a try because your panties will be destroyed with so much arousal — you didn't know you have such an amount down there!

Bucky grunts, dodging another punch thrown at him by Natasha. They had been going at it for hours, pinning each other down, punching and kicking. Even though he was a super soldier, he was an omega. His natural instinct was to submit to the alpha in front of him. If he was any other omega he would have, but the years of training kept his mind clear.

“C’mon, Buck, that all you got?” He growls at her taunt, throwing his next punch into her side, too fast for her to move out of the way. She gasps, leaning over to catch her breath before flinging her head back up. “You hit like a girl.” Natasha’s words pissed him off, not wanting to be shown up by the alpha in front of him, but it was getting hard for him to resist submitting to her.

He’s never struggled this much. He had his own alpha that took care of him, but right now, the unmated alpha before him was stirring something inside of him. Natasha stopped for a second, sniffing the air before her eyes darkened. She could smell his heat. About to call off the match, not wanting to be near her best friend’s omega right before his heat, she lets her guard down, only for Bucky to pin her to the ground, straddling her.

Natasha gasps at the sudden impact on her back, even more surprised when Bucky whines, high pitched and needy. His hips buck into her stomach unconsciously, jerking back when he realizes his cock is hard and throbbing. A whimper leaves his lips, he got hard for another alpha. He didn’t want Natasha, but he couldn’t help the way his body reacted.

“I-I’m sorry, alpha, I didn’t mean to-” Shame fills his body. How could he betray his alpha like this? The only person to take care of him in 80 years.

“Bucky, it’s not your fault. You’re about to go into heat.” His head shoots up. Bucky didn’t even realize he was going into heat. Now he feels even worse. Another alpha was near him when he was about to go into heat.

Without stopping, Bucky gets up and runs straight past your room and straight into his. Not wasting a second to jump into the shower and wash away his disgust. His cock is still hard, precum steadily leaking from his tip. He wants to touch himself so bad, to give himself some sort of relief, but he can’t. He didn’t get this erection from you, not deserving to pleasure himself.

The longer he is in the shower, however, the harder his cock begs for friction, balls heavy with cum, desperate to relieve the pressure building up. One touch won’t hurt, right? His hand sneaks down his slick body slowly inching his way to his cock. He barely touches himself when the door to the bathroom shoots open. Without a second thought, Bucky pulls his hand away, turning to see you enter the bathroom, and you are pissed.

“Omega!” Bucky felt his cock pulse at your anger, finding it sexy. He whimpers, balls filling up with more cum. “You think you could get away with the stunt you pulled earlier? Think Natasha wouldn’t tell me how your dick got hard, humping her like a dirty slut? You think your alpha wouldn’t want to know you were in heat? What? Did you not want your alpha to take care of you?” Even through his lust filled haze, he can hear the hurt in your voice.

“No! I didn’t know I was in heat! Would have came to you, alpha. I was ashamed. Didn’t want you to be mad at me.” Bucky gulps, even through his fear, his cock still pulses, hot and heavy, ready for his alpha to take him.

You growl, the sound sending shivers down his spine, making his hips buck into the air and he moans. “You think this is funny, Omega?” You storm over to the shower, turning the water off and pulling Bucky out, not bothering to dry him off.

“Get on the fucking bed.” He has never seen you so mad, not at him anyway. The omega in him was bouncing around, trying to decide if he thought this was hot, or if he just wanted to be a good boy for you. Both, he wanted both. You sat him down on the edge of the bed, straddling his lap.

“Wanna be a dirty whore? Then you’re going to be treated like one.” Your hand wraps around his cock, jerking it hard and fast, not easing him into it at all.

“Fuck, alpha, so fucking good. So hard for you.” You pull your hand away but before Bucky can complain, your hand comes back down, slapping his cock, making it jolt around. “SHIT! Why did you do that?” You don’t answer him, only hitting him again, harder this time. “PLEASE.” You give him one more slap before pulling your hand away.

“You know why you got your dick slapped, Omega?” Bucky shakes his head. “Because you’re a liar. You’re not hard for me, are you? No, you got hard for another alpha.”

“Only hard for you, promise.” You don’t say anything back, only jerking his cock harder and faster than before. “Alpha, gonna cum, gonna cum, please.” And just like that, you pull away and stand, turning around and about to head to the bathroom to shower. “Alpha! Where are you going? Please! Cock so hard. Hurts. Need you to help, balls are so fucking full.”

Turning back to him, you tilt your head. “You think you deserve to cum when you’re acting like a little whore, just because you’re in heat?” You stalk over to him, like he was your prey. You grab his jaw, forcing him to look into your eyes. “Get dressed, we’re going to movie night.” Letting go of his jaw with more force than necessary, you turn and walk away. “And don’t you dare think about touching your cock.”

Bucky scrambles to get dressed, throwing on a pair of sweatpants and a shirt that was inside out, not caring that he was still soaking wet from his shower. He follows you, sneaking into the bathroom only to be caught when a heady moan slips from him. Cock pulsing with every beat of his heart. “You wanna watch your alpha shower, but you better not touch your cock. That is only for me. You hear me?” Bucky frantically nods his head, agreeing to anything you say.

He pants as he watches you strip, each piece of clothing you remove making his balls heavier. Without a glance back to him, you get in the shower, not bothering to close the curtain. With so much blood rushing to his dick, Bucky feels lightheaded, needing to sit down on the bathroom floor, looking up at his alpha, pupils completely blown.

He swears he could cum just at the sight of you, body soaking wet, soap suds making your body slick. His hand moves to his dick unconsciously, needing some relief. His cock was starting to become too painful, balls needing to be drained. “You’re getting yourself into more and more trouble, omega.” That knocks Bucky out of his stupor, pulling his hand away, still left unsatisfied.

The rest of your shower is uneventful, Bucky finally listening, even though you don’t give in to his whines about his cock and balls. Scenting him before you leave, he follows you like a lost puppy, the bulge in his pants extremely noticeable.

The two of you are there first and you walk Bucky to the most secluded area in the room, where no one could see the two of you. You cover the both of you up with a blanket, making sure that the others won’t be able to see his cock about to burst. The others arrive not too long after and you can see the other alphas take a deep breath faintly smelling the scent of Bucky’s heat, only hidden by your scent.

Bucky tries to hide himself behind you, the omega in him desperate to get away from the other alphas, only wanting to be surrounded by you. The further he crawls into you, the harder it is to resist dragging him back to your room and fucking him until he passes out.

You have to be the strong one now, making Bucky wait until he physically can’t anymore. Eventually, the other alphas settle down and everyone is watching the movie. Well everyone except for you and Bucky. Your omega is curled up into you like he was trying to live inside your skin. Usually, you would think it’s cute, but right now he is testing your will.

He finds the small crack in your disposition and you sneak your hand over, resting it on his thigh under the blanket. His entire body tenses, desperate for any type of release. You slowly move your hand up his thigh, feeling how impossibly hard your mate is. He has to bite your shoulder to stop the pornographic moan that leaves him, lucky that an action scene is unfolding on screen.

You only get a few strokes of your hand before you stop, pulling your hand away, knowing that he was about to cum. The look Bucky gives you is wild; like he was a feral animal, caged and ready to pounce at any given moment. It makes you smirk and the rest of your restraint leaves your body.

Grabbing his wrist, you pull the both of you up and leave the room, not saying a word to anyone. As soon as you get inside your room you push Bucky down on the bed, his eyes rolling to the back of his head at your display of dominance. “Strip, omega.” It was a simple order, one that Bucky had no problem following. While he was frantically throwing his clothes across the room, you head over to the dresser, pulling out one of your favorite toys - a cock ring.

When Bucky sees what you’re holding, he whines, giving you his best puppy dog eyes, hoping that you won't use it on him, at least not tonight. Not when his balls are so heavy, so full of cum that it is painful. He needs to cum in you, he can’t wait, but you’re not playing fair.

“Ah, ah, none of that now. You know why I’m using this right?” Bucky doesn’t know how it happened, but you’re naked, slowly walking over to him.

“Because I was bad, alpha.” Heat rises to his cheeks, never wanting to disappoint his alpha.

You sigh, dropping to the bed to grab his cock. You don’t even need to use any lube to work the ring down his cock. He’s been leaking precum all day. If you looked at the front of his sweatpants you would see the huge wet stain on the front. His entire cock was slick, precum still steadily dripping from his tip.

He hisses at your bare hand touching him, attempting to buck his hips up to get more friction. You just pull your hand off and slap his thigh. After he calms down you work the ring to the base of his cock. You purposefully chose a size that was just too small for him, wanting to make sure he wouldn’t cum without permission.

“No, omega, that’s not why you have to wear the ring. You have to wear the ring because you act like a bitch in heat as soon as you’re in my pussy.” Bucky’s toes curl, hips jerk, and he lets out a shameless moan making you glad Tony had soundproofed the walls.

“Please, alpha, promise I won’t cum until you tell me. My balls are so fucking heavy, need to fuck you, please.” Tears well up in Bucky’s eyes, needing some type of release. You aren’t fairing much better, cunt throbbing to be filled with his cock.

You straddle his waist, grabbing his cock and sitting down without preamble, not wasting a second to start bouncing on him. “ALPHA, FUCK M’GONNA CUM.” He could feel it, could feel the cum trying to make its way out of his balls and up his cock, but it couldn’t, the cock ring too tight around him, not letting anything get past.

“Gonna cum already? Barely been inside me.” The moans Bucky lets out completely drown out yours.

“Please, please, take it off, let me cum. Will be so good to you, please. Need it so bad. Cock hurts, alpha, please make it stop.” There was a constant stream of tears running down your pretty omega’s face, too lost in pleasure to form a coherent sentence, only able to beg you to drain his sack for him.

His hands fly to your hips, feet planting on the bed so he can thrust up into you harder and harder. The feeling of his cum filled sack slapping against your ass almost makes you cum; however, your omega knows better, he knows not to try and take control when you haven’t told him to. No matter how good it felt to be pounded into like his own personal fleshlight, you have to punish your omega for breaking the rules.

Pushing his arms off of you, you pull yourself off his cock. “Alpha, nonono, come back, need to feel your pussy, can’t be outside of it, need my cock back in, please!” There wasn’t a single thought in his brain, only the carnal need to fuck your pussy until his balls were empty and his cock was too sensitive to keep going.

Instead of listening to his begging, you get off the bed once again, heading back to the dresser to get out three pairs of handcuffs. Before you even turn around you hear the shlickshlickshlick of Bucky fucking his fist as fast as he can, trying and failing to coax an orgasm out of himself. Shaking your head, you turn around, Bucky’s eyes rake over your body, not stopping the assault on his cock until you get to the bed and grab them, placing them over his head.

“You wanna be bad? Then you’re going to have to deal with the consequences.” Bucky can’t even find the strength to protest, letting you move his hands to the headboard, cuffing one hand and passing the cuff through a bedpost before cuffing the other.

You look him in the eyes, red and puffy, yet still blown. He knows what you want. “Not too tight, feels good.” With a nod you move down to his left leg, pulling in diagonal to the post at the bottom, handcuffing it. You look up at him, only moving to the next leg when he nods. You do the same to his right leg, but this time he shakes his head. “Little too tight, alpha.” When you go to loosen the cuff Bucky frantically shakes his head. “It’s okay alpha, you don’t have to loosen it.”

You narrow your eyes at him, knowing that he’s only saying that because he’s in subspace, not wanting to disappoint you, willing to be uncomfortable just to make you happy. “Omega, you know better than that. You know that your alpha doesn’t like when you lie to her.” Bucky hangs his head in shame as you loosen the handcuff and put it on again. As you crawl back on his lap you grab his face, forcing him to look at you. “You know not to lie to your alpha, but since you’re so pussy drunk, I’ll let you get away with it this one time.”

When he looks back into your eyes, you slam yourself down again, riding him with renewed vigor. You could hear the clink of the handcuffs as he tries to pull against them, desperate to thrust up into you, or even touch any part of you. “Oh, fuck mommy, please let me cum, feel like my balls are going to burst, they’re so heavy.” With all his whining, Bucky was pushing you closer to the edge. He was slipping further and further into subspace, bringing out the most submissive side of him. The little jerks of his hips making your pussy leak more.

“Are you gonna wait for your mommy to cum, huh? Don’t you want to feel her milk you cock dry?”

A desperate whine leaves his mouth, eyes locked into your tits, just watching them bounce, mouth slackjaw. “Yesyesyes, wanna make you cum, wanna feel you around me.”

With every bounce, you grind your hips down, the coarse curls at the base of him rubbing your clit. You can feel your orgasm bubbling up, tightening a knot in your belly. “Yeah, Omega? Gonna make your mommy cum? Gonna make her cream all over your dick?”

Bucky can only nod, puff of air leaving his lips in between salacious groans. He can feel his cock swell, his knot growing at the base of him, increasing the pressure from the ring, making it painful. “Mommy, think-think I’m gonna blow.”

“Hold it baby, mommy’s almost there.” You speed up your hips, feeling the size of his cock get bigger and bigger. “My little clit is fucking pulsing, baby, fuck, you’re gonna make me cum. Gonna make your mommy so proud of you.”

It all happens at once. The swell of his cock too much and the ring holding his orgasm in place breaks, flying onto the bed somewhere. At that exact moment, his cock practically explodes with cum. “MOMMY, OH FUCK. OHSHITOHSHITOHSHIT. TOO MUCH.” Bucky was screaming, the soundproofed walls doing nothing to hide the sounds of his orgasm. “Fuck, so much cum. Mommy, why won’t it stop, can’t stop cumming, fuuucckk.”

Your pussy clenches around his cock, cumming just as hard as him, cunt trying desperately to keep his load inside even though it is futile. You can’t even make a sound, eyes rolling back, body convulsing around his, you fall onto his chest, feeling the shake of his whole body.

“Mhmmmmm, mommy, leaking so much, getting my cum all over, fuck, my balls are still so fucking heavy, need to fill you again, can I mommy? Please want to keep fucking you.” You can’t even feel your fucking toes and his cock is still rock hard inside of you.

Mustering up all the strength left in your body, you get up and undo his handcuffs from his hands and feet. As soon as his hands are free, they fly down to his cock, one hand wildly stroking his cock, his other hand fondling his balls, trying to tempt another load out of himself. When his feet are free, he plants them on the bed, bucking his hip uncontrollably, moaning so hysterically almost thought he was in pain.

“Please, come back, mommy. Want to cum in your pussy.” You flop down on the bed, laying on your stomach, for you being the alpha out of the two of you, sometimes you just couldn’t keep up with him.

“Use your mommy how you want, omega, make yourself feel good.” The poor thing was practically sobbing at this point, so needy to fuck you. Bucky doesn’t waste any time, hastily straddling your ass, slipping his dick back into its rightful home.

“Yesyesyes, s’goods’good, can’t stop, mommy, needed this so bad.” Without warning Bucky squats over you, slamming his hips into yours. The clap of your ass against his hips causes your ass to bounce. He watches with rapt attention, almost wailing at the sight, another load about to leave his cock. “Mommy, your ass is so fucking hot. How does it move like that, oh shit. Bout to cum again, can’t fucking stop it.”

Bucky can’t stop fucking you, not even when his knot swells, just rutting against you as much as he can until it goes down, letting him pull his cock out almost all the way before slamming right back in.

His cock dragging against your walls over and over again, stretching you in the most delicious way, is almost too much. You can’t help but moan anyway, fighting with yourself if you want to push him away or beg for more. His thrusts only get more and more frantic, desperately searching for another orgasm.

“Mommy, want you to cum for me again. Please give it to me.” He rolls his hips, each stroke hitting your sweet spot without fail.

“Can’t, omega, just want you to make yourself feel good, just want you to fill me up until you’re satisfied.” This only makes Bucky thrust even harder and a loud keen leaves your lips.

“I need you to cum, mommy. Just one more, please, just give me one more, I swear, s’all I want.” You couldn’t deny your sweet omega when he was begging so beautifully. There was no way your body wouldn’t listen to the pleas of your mate.

His hips slap against yours even faster, the coil in your belly getting tighter, feeling like it was about to break. “Fuck, ‘mega, gonna cum for you.” The only sound Bucky can get out is a breathy Uh huh.

You can feel the swell of his knot, the friction doing nothing to slow Bucky’s movements. “Yeah, mommy, I want your cum, need your cum, please.” His begging was the final straw, your orgasm washing over you. Blinding white pleasure thrums throughout your body, pussy clenching so hard that Bucky’s knot pops, locking him to you as he pumps his cum in your welcoming hole. “Mommy, you’re making my cock feel so fucking good, giving you so much cum, can’t stop it.”

You can’t even hear Bucky’s whines and groans as he rides out his final orgasm of the night, too lost in your own pleasure, blood rushing through your ears, barely feeling Bucky collapse on your back, legs no longer able to hold himself up. You don’t know how long it takes for the both of you to come down, but by the time you do his knot has deflated, yet his cock stays buried in the warmth of your cunt.

The weight of his body is soothing, helping to ground yourself after such an intense session, but your omega is pure muscle and soon you’re struggling to breath. “Can’t breathe, ‘mega, need you to roll over.” Bucky whines and rolls the both of you over on your sides, keeping his cock nestled inside of you.

You know that Bucky needs to be held and taken care of no matter how much you just want to lay down and sleep with him. Bucky whines when you leave his arms, cock slipping out of you. “It’s okay, omega, let your alpha take care of you, just gotta get you cleaned up.” The pout on his face makes it almost impossible for you to leave him, but you have to in order to clean him up.

As quickly as you can, you head to the bathroom, trying to ignore the copious amount of cum leaking down your legs. After peeing and cleaning yourself up, you grab the softest washcloth and wet it with warm water and walk back to the bed to find Bucky still pouting and waiting for you.

A small giggle leaves your lips as you climb back into bed. Before you move to clean him up you look at him, silently asking him for permission to touch his spent cock. Of course he does, nodding his head in confirmation, just wanting his alpha to take care of him. He tries not to wiggle too much when you bring the cloth to his sensitive skin. You move as fast as you can while still being cautious of overstimulating him even further, not wanting to draw it out, throwing the rag somewhere across the room so you could pull him to your chest after getting under the covers.

“Alpha?” Bucky’s voice is soft and timid, slightly muffled by his face in the crook of your neck.

“Yes, omega.” Your voice is welcoming, trying to ease his worry.

“Were you really mad at me earlier? With what happened with Natasha.” You could feel his whole body tense, worried that he was a bad omega.

Pulling him up to look him in the eyes you can’t help but to feel your heart break at the uncertainty that covers his face. “Of course not, omega, I know that it was just your body’s response and you didn’t actually want her. I would never blame you for something you can’t control. But I would like it if you came to me to help you, not hiding away from me. But if I did anything to make you feel less than I need you to tell me. Did you not like it when I talked to you like that?”

Bucky frantically shakes his head no. “No, alpha, I loved it, I just-” His eyes break off from yours, heat creeping up his face.

“Oh, ‘mega, is your brain feeling fuzzy right now?” He gets this way sometimes, when he is so deep in subspace that nothing makes sense except for his alpha, knowing how much he was loved and cared for.

Bucky only nods, not having the energy to speak. “That’s okay. Just lay down with me and get some rest. I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

“Could I have a kiss, please.” A small smile crosses your face, eyes scrunching up. How could you say not to your perfect omega. Leaning up, you give Bucky a gentle kiss, conveying all the love you feel for him, all the love that you can’t put into words. That was all Bucky needed to lay his head down on your chest, wrapping his arms around you, cuddling you like a teddy bear knowing that he was safe from everything and everyone when he was in your arms.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes smut #bucky x you #bucky imagine #bucky smut #sebastian stan x reader #omegaverse #omega bucky barnes #omega!bucky #alpha!reader

420 notes · View notes

sarahowritesostucky · 3 days

Text

📖"Breeding the Winter Soldier"

Rated: Explicit

Word Count: 7893

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes

Tags: a/b/o, Omega Bucky, Alpha Steve, Hydra wins, dark AU, forced mating, breeding program, coerced sex, restraints, heats/ruts, forced to fuck, past Bucky x Brock, HTP adjacent, mind control, anal sex, hurt/comfort (mostly comfort)

A.N.: this was written all the way back in 2017!

Breeding the Winter Soldier

“Looks like they gave Cap his assignment,” Rollins chuckles from where he’s sitting, boots propped up on the observation room’s control panel. “Doesn’t seem too happy about being told he’s gotta breed ‘im.”

Brock scoffs lightly, unable to help himself from lighting up out of frustration as he stares through the one-way glass window at their prisoner. Smoking isn’t allowed inside the facility, but that’s never stopped Brock. “This is bullshit,” he complains around the cigarette between his lips, tossing the spent match to the floor as he gets a good first lungful of nicotine. Beyond the window, Captain fucking America—or what used to be Captain America— is pacing, pacing, pacing, distressed at the news. Brock seethes quietly. “Project Genesis is mine. He was supposed to be mine.”

And now Steven Grant Rogers is the one they want instead. The superior choice, apparently, for siring little super-soldiers. Brock had broken whatever he’d been holding when he’d first heard the order come down—a coffee mug, he thinks it was. The order strictly reassigned him as handler only to the asset, the one to supervise the project. Supervise. Brock cringes at the restriction of the word. He’s been the asset’s commanding officer for going on five years now. Unofficially, he’s been his alpha for two. He’s the one who knows the asset, understands him. He’s the only one who knows how to make him work right, how to get through to him. He’s the one who cares about him, who satisfies him through his heats. And now Hydra is forcing him to give that all away?

His mate is going to be so confused.

Rollins tells him to chill. “I’m sure they’ll still let you fuck around with him once he’s pupped a few litters.”

“That’s not the fucking point!” Brock roars, angry but not at Rollins. Jack seems to know this, as he doesn’t move at all from his lazy posture in the chair. “He’s my omega. I’m perfectly capable of breeding him, if that’s what they want.”

Rollins shrugs. “You ain’t got that super soldier sperm.”

“Captain. Hail Hydra.”

Steve looks up from where he’s been eating his breakfast and frowns at the sight of Rumlow. It’s strange and upsetting to see people that he knew from before. People who he’d thought were the good guys. Brock looks the same as he did a year ago. Same haircut, same face, same tactical gear that he used to wear when he was on Shield’s Strike team, when he was Steve’s friend. Only now there is no Shield, and there are no friends. Now they all belong to Hydra whether they want to or not.

“Hail Hydra,” Steve mumbles into the cold milk of his cereal.

“Gotta come with me, Cap,” Rumlow tells him. “Today’s the day.”

Steve looks up at him, eyes angry and tired. “I’m not doing it,” he says. He’s fucking not doing it. They can’t make him.

“I’m not in the mood for this today.” Rumlow calls in the four guards that he’s brought with him and has them stand there with their stun batons as a warning for Steve. Before, they never would’ve been enough to keep him subdued. But that was before. Steve knows it’ll be no use trying to fight them off. He lets his spoon drop into the cereal bowl.

They take him down to the wing where they keep Bucky, to a room with a bed, a minifridge and an exam chair. It’s a heat suite, where they intend to force him to do this, Steve supposes. Bucky’s not there. There’s a tech waiting for them and when Steve lays eyes on the prepped syringes he tenses, tries to turn around. He winds up with a stun baton jammed to his neck and the next thing he knows he’s restrained in the chair. The tech is bringing a needle over and Steve pulls with all his might against the mag restraints. They don’t budge. “Relax,” Rumlow says. He’s standing beside Steve. “It’s just something to help you.”

“Help me how?” Steve asks, afraid. He’s already drugged up six ways to Sunday. Drugs to keep him weak, drugs to keep him dazed, drugs to keep him calm. If he didn’t heal so rapidly his inner arms would look like pincushions by now. The injections erase who he is, erase any possibility of a fight, let alone an escape. He doesn’t want any more injections.

“Something to kickstart your rut,” Brock says. He points to the other needles, one by one. “An aphrodisiac. A benzo to lower your inhibitions. Hormones to increase the chances of conceiving.”

Steve sneers. “I’m not doing it. I’m not hurting him.”

“You sure as hell better not,” Brock tells him, and there’s something about the way that he says it that has Steve paying closer attention. Steve takes notice of how tense Rumlow seems, upset almost. He smells the sour tint of possessiveness rolling off of him. “He’s mine,” Brock says. It’s obvious he’s not talking about his role as Bucky’s handler.

Steve squints for a moment. “…No,” he says, eyes widening. Rumlow smirks when he sees that Steve is finally figuring it out. “You’ve had him.”

“Wow. Took you long enough Cap. Thought you would’ve at least smelled him on me, all the times I fucked him before passing you in the hall.”

Steve grits his teeth, fury building in him in a way that he didn’t think was possible, not with all of the mood stabilizers Hydra’s got him on. “You fucking raped him?!” The tech comes over and jabs Steve while he’s distracted, not that he can move much in the restraints anyway. The needle stings going in, but the anger coursing through him is worse than the cold flush of medicine through his veins.

Brock looks at Steve with contempt. “I’m his handler. He hasn’t been raped since I started caring for him.”

Steve pants in his seat, feeling his temperature start to climb as the drugs work into his system. “Is that what you call it?” he sneers. “You think you’re taking care of him?”

“I know you’re not happy about this,” Brock tells him. “But let me tell you something: neither am I.”

“What are you talking about?”

Brock tells the tech to get out of the room. He orders the AI system that they stole from Stark Industries to stop monitoring them. Once they’re all alone he tells Steve, “He’s mine, Rogers.” Steve growls at him and that makes Rumlow roll his eyes. He drags a stool over to sit right in front of where Steve is restrained. “What you’re participating in? It’s called Project Genesis.”

“Yeah, trying to make baby supersoldiers, I get it,” Steve snaps. “I’m not doing it.”

“It’s the only fucking reason you’re alive right now,” Brock tells him. “And it’s the only reason he’s not gathering dust in some cryo vault.”

Steve can’t suppress his frown. “What?”

Brock sighs. “You’ve both been decommissioned. Hydra is a major world power now. One or two enhanced assets aren’t worth our time anymore. An army of supersoldiers, however, is. That’s what he’s still useful for.”

“You son of a bitch.”

“Yeah? How do you think I feel?” Brock snaps. “I was the one who was supposed to breed him. Was working on it just fine till they brought you in. I’m sure you think he’ll be happy to see you but let me tell you, he won’t.” Brock can smell the change coming over the other alpha, can smell his body ramping up for a rut. Beneath the scent of sex hormones is the sour tinge of chemicals. It makes Brock want to curl his nose and bare his teeth in a challenge, or maybe turn away to escape the smell altogether. “He doesn’t know you Cap, and you’re just going to scare him if you come at him acting like he should be glad to see you.”

Steve glares at him. “He does remember me. He knew me on the helicarrier.” Bucky had known him. He had.

But Brock shakes his head. “No. He only has bits and pieces Rogers. He’s my omega. I bonded to him years ago.”

Steve growls and pulls at his restraints again. “No!”

“Calm the fuck down!” Brock leans in closer. He looks mad. Smells mad too. “This isn’t about you or me. It’s not up to us. Do you think I’d let you touch him if it was?”

“He’s not yours,” Steve grits out. “And I’m not going to touch him.”

Brock huffs. “You wait till those drugs kick in, you’ll be singing a different tune.” He looks at Steve seriously. “And just so you know, he’s already in heat.”

Steve’s eyes widen at that. “What?”

“Yeah. He’s hot and aching and he knows what his mission is. He’s not going to fight it,” Brock says. “But he’s expecting me. He’s expecting someone that he knows to help him feel better. And he’s going to be confused when I bring him in here and tell him that he has to let another alpha fuck him. A stranger. So I need for you to calm down. I don’t want him scared. You and I are going to talk to him together and you’re going to be gentle with him.”

Steve can feel arousal building in himself, and it’s strange to feel that while he’s sitting there next to Rumlow, being told all of this. The chemically-induced rut is coming on fast. “Shit,” he curses, head falling back to the chair behind him. He can feel himself firming up beneath the thin cotton of his sleep pants and he hates that he can’t hide it from Rumlow. “I can’t do this. Please don’t make me do this.”

“Get it together Cap,” Rumlow snaps, unhappy.

“Fuck you!” Steve spits.

Brock sighs. “I was hoping you’d shut up but I can see that’s not going to happen. He crosses the room only to return with a gag in his hands. He forces Steve’s jaw open and presses the ball gag in, saying nothing about the fight Steve puts up. Once it’s secured and Steve is heaving angry breaths at him, Brock says, “I’m going to get him now. If you care about him at all you won’t make this worse for him than it has to be.” He gets up and leaves through the room’s only door and Steve is forced to wait long minutes, panting and sweating at the oncoming rush of a forced rut.

The asset is relieved when its handler comes to retrieve it. It entered its heat hours ago and has had to wait, alone and aching, in the little room. “Come on James,” the handler says when the asset stands from its little cot, and the asset remembers that this is supposed to be its name. He’s never heard it before—not from anyone besides his handler. It's probably invented, but he likes that he uses it. Even if it’s made up, it’s something special between just the two of them.

Now they’ll go to the other room, the one where they always go when he is to be bred. James looks forward to it because he knows it’ll make him feel better. Brock (that’s his handler’s name. He’s allowed to use it when they’re alone) will give him everything he needs, will knot him and hopefully fill him with pups. That’s their mission. So far they’ve been unsuccessful but the asset thinks it’s because his heats used to be so unpredictable. Now he’s been out of cryo long enough that he’s cycling regularly again, his body ready for a pregnancy.

The asset has never thought about reproducing. An assassin doesn’t think of such things, a weapon certainly doesn’t. But James does. James doesn’t mind his new mission. He hasn’t told his handler, but he secretly prefers serving Hydra this way over what he used to do. This way he doesn’t have to go into the cold. And they don’t wipe him. And there’s someone who cares for him—his alpha. Deep down, he secretly likes the idea of having a baby, something that’s his that isn’t garbage or government-issued. Something that’s all his. He doesn’t tell his handler about this either.

They enter the other room and there is someone else there. It’s a man, an alpha. He’s restrained and in rut, that much is clear right away. The asset is nearly knocked back by the abrupt smell of him. Brock notices and laughs, reaching to grab him by the arm and pull him closer. “Easy babe.”

The asset scans his eyes over the man on the chair. He’s big. Tall and muscled, with blond hair and handsome features. He’s clearly upset. He struggles against his bonds as they approach, making useless sounds through the gag in his mouth. The asset looks questioningly at Brock. “Who is he?” He’s not really supposed to ask questions unprompted, but over time he’s learned that it’s okay with his handler, with Brock.

“His name is Captain Rogers,” Brock says. “Former SHIELD operative. He’s an enhanced like you are.”

The asset nods. He was unaware that there were others like himself. There used to be a program, but it had failed. He can remember helping, being tasked with training a group of men and women to make them stronger, better. But they’d gone wild and had been eliminated. The mission had failed.

“We have new orders,” Brock tells him, and this is when he takes his hand, squeezes it reassuringly. James purrs at the contact, moves to begin removing his clothes as is expected of him. But Brock stops him. “Wait, babe.”

The man in the chair growls at the pet name and James whines. He doesn’t want the other alpha to be there. He wants to be naked, in a bed, under his mate. “I’m hot,” he points out. “I need to get undressed.”

“You can,” Brock tells him. He pets the side of James’ face. “But I’m not going to be here with you.”

The asset frowns in confusion. “What?” He doesn’t understand. This is the breeding room. James is in heat. It’s their mission—they’ll be punished if they don’t complete it. The asset tilts his head, baring his neck, trying to show his alpha how ready he is. “Alpha please,” he whines. He’d hit the floor and present if not for the other alpha in the room. “I’m in heat. I need it.”

Brock shushes him, gentles a hand down his side. It feels good but it’s not nearly enough. “I know baby, I know. You’ll get a knot, just not mine.” The asset is confused again, but only for a second. His eyes dart over to where the other alpha is bound. Brock sees this and he nods, “Yeah baby, you’re going to mate with him.”

“What?” A low noise of distress leaves James’ throat, unbidden. He’s not supposed to make noises like that. But Brock never punishes him for such mistakes, not when it’s just the two of them. “No. You’re supposed to do it. You’re my mate,” he says, feeling scared. He’s not supposed to argue with directions. “Alpha?” he says, trying to press his nose into Brock’s neck, trying to ignore the other man in the room. “The mission,” he urges. “Breed me. Put pups in me.”

But Brock just kisses his temple and sets him back firmly. “Sorry babe,” he says. “It’s orders.”

Steve tries to speak through the gag but of course it’s no use.

He is forced to sit there and watch as Rumlow comes into the room with Bucky, holding his hand, for Christ’s sake. Bucky doesn’t seem to mind at all. He makes a pleased sound whenever Brock touches him, and when he calls him pet names. Steve feels his guts lurch at the obvious show of affection between them. He feels jealously flare up in his core like a rabid animal, wanting to kill the other alpha for touching Bucky, for trying to claim the omega that should be his.

That, he knows, is his rut talking. It’s gotten worse in the past ten minutes since Brock left him here, tied to the exam chair and gagged. Steve’s skin itches and his pulse throbs. Between his legs, he’s hard. And now that Bucky has come into the room, now that Steve can smell him, it’s so much worse. Bucky smells like damp, cloying earth. He smells like dark, cramped spaces and tangled up bodies. He smells like something Steve wants to bury his face in and not come up for air from. Steve takes one look at him and feels the urge to chase him, catch him, pin him down come unbidden. All he can do is wiggle ineffectively in his bonds.

In front of him, Brock is telling Bucky that he has to mate with Steve. Steve’s heart clenches when Bucky looks over to him, tense and afraid. His eyes do not hold recognition. Steve listens as Bucky pleads and whines to Brock, calling him his alpha, begging him to breed him instead. And Brock fucking comforts him, pets him and gives him a kiss and tells him it’s okay. Bucky looks like he never wants to leave Brock’s side. Steve clenches his eyes shut at the sight.

“Rogers.”

Steve’s eyes open. Brock is standing right in front of him. Bucky is still hanging back, looking unsure. “You see?” Brock says, and he’s not bragging or gloating or anything. He’s just trying to get Steve to listen. “He’s used to being with me, Cap. He doesn’t know you. Now are you gonna behave if I take that gag out? Not going to upset him?”

Steve glares at Rumlow, but after a moment manages a terse nod. The gag gets removed, and Steve takes a moment to swallow the spit in his mouth, lick his lips and crack his jaw. “Thanks,” he grunts, not feeling at all thankful.

Rumlow nods, chucks the gag away. “I’m not going to let you up from that chair yet,” he tells Steve. “That I’ll do remotely, once I’m out of the room.”

Steve sneers. “What? You afraid to be alone with me?”

Brock raises his eyebrows. “First of all, I’m not alone.” He nods back to Bucky. “I’ve got him. Don’t let his role in our breeding program fool you; he’s still perfectly capable of ending a man with his bare hands. If I give him the order to, that is. Secondly, I’m not going to let you out of that chair while I’m in the room because you’re in rut. A rut that we chemically engineered to match his heat. You’re geared up to attack any alpha that comes near him.”

Steve scoffs. “I’ve got better control than you, animal.”

Brock looks back at Bucky and calls him over, but he calls him James, and that rankles Steve more than anything else yet. “Come here James,” Rumlow says. He holds out his arm and Bucky comes over obediently. “This is Steve. He’s not a big fan of mine, I’m sure you can tell.”

“Bucky,” Steve says urgently. “Bucky I’m not going to hurt you. Okay? Don’t worry.”

“Who the hell is Bucky?” Bucky murmurs to Brock.

Brock glares at Steve. “I told you Cap. He doesn’t know any of that.” Brock pulls Bucky closer, encourages him to go up and touch Steve where he’s restrained to the chair. “Go ahead babe. You heard him: he won’t hurt you. Have a look at him.”

Bucky does. He inches closer until his leg hits the side of the chair. He reaches forward with careful fingers, as if Steve is a wild animal that might bite. Bucky’s eyes are cold and calculating as they pass over Steve, no recognition to them. Not like Steve wants. “He’s healthy,” Bucky murmurs, almost as if he’s afraid to say it. “Strong.” Behind, Brock chuckles a little.

“Yeah he is. Don’t worry though. He won’t be rough on you.” Brock meets Steve’s eyes over Bucky’s head. “I have it on good authority. He’s going to be real gentle.”

Bucky doesn’t react to this, and Steve feels as if he can hardly breathe as Bucky continues to examine him. He touches Steve’s arms, his legs, his chest. Steve is still clothed, but the touches ramp up the desire that the drugs have kickstarted. In his pants, he’s hard as a rock. Bucky leans down and sticks his nose into Steve’s neck, scenting at the glands there. It’s all Steve can do not to moan where he’s sitting, all he can do not to try and thrust his hips up the way his body wants to. After a long inspection, Bucky seems to make up his mind about Steve. He stands back and away, looks to Brock. “He’ll sire good pups. I understand why he’s been chosen.” He nods once to show his obedience in the matter. “I’ll complete the mission.”

Brock smiles at him. “Good boy.”

“Buck you don’t have to do anything these sacks of shit tell you to—”

“Cap,” Rumlow warns, “That ain’t the way. He WILL do what we tell him to. And if you’re resisting, he’ll take you by force. That how you want this to go?”

Steve grimaces at the threat, imagining the absurdity of Bucky raping him. “He should have a choice,” Steve tells Rumlow darkly, hating the man with every fiber of his being. “Does this make you proud?” he asks. “Treating him like a thing? Violating him?” Steve forces himself to meet Rumlow’s eyes in an imploring manner. “You said that you mated him. If that’s true, is this really what you want for him?”

Rumlow shakes his head, looks at Steve as if he’s incredibly thickheaded. “You just don’t get it, do ya Cap?” He walks over, takes a hold of Bucky’s neck and pulls him in for a deep kiss. Steve watches the display with horror, especially once Bucky brings both of his hands up to cradle Rumlow’s jaw. Brock pulls away from Bucky, their lips separating with a pop, and he glares at Steve. “This isn’t about ‘want’. It’s about following orders.” With that he pushes Bucky up to stand close to Steve, turning away before either man can stop him. “Now just shut up, lay back, and get him pregnant,” he throws over his shoulder as he walks out the door.

James tries not to feel anything when his mate leaves the room. He tries to slip back into the mindset of the Asset, a place where feelings are irrelevant. Brock has explained the parameters of the mission, has given the soldier his orders. Now James will execute. He tips his ear towards the door, his enhanced hearing helping him to pick up on the sounds of many intricate locking mechanisms being set. He flicks his gaze back up to the body of the other man—the man they’ve chosen to sire his pups.

James wants to sneer, feels like maybe he does. He shuffles uncomfortably in place, wetness already growing sticky and cool where it’s seeped into the back of his pants. He wonders if Captain Rogers can smell it. Stepping close to the chair where he’s restrained, James examines the mag cuffs that hold him in place. They’re similar to the ones that his handlers use on him. It makes James wonder just how strong this man is. Brock had said he was enhanced. He tilts his head in curiosity.

“… Bucky—”

“Directive clarification,” James calls out to the room, ignoring whatever the Captain had been about to say to him. James doesn’t wait for a response; he knows they’re being watched. “Am I to mount him like this?” he asks, not particularly caring either way. He shouldn’t care about this stranger’s comfort during the act—he’s not Brock. The soldier has his orders and James has no choice. He has to do it. A quick glance shows him what he can already smell: Captain Rogers is fully erect beneath his clothing. On the chair or in a bed, he’ll be easy enough for James to take inside of his body. But a crackle comes through the speakers in the ceiling, echoing Brock’s voice into the room:

“Use the bed if you want. He’s been chemically subdued so he shouldn’t be able to put up much a fight. Releasing mag cuffs in three, two...”

In the next second the restraints on the chair click open, and James turns back in time to see Captain Rogers pulling his arms away from the chair. He sits up, swinging his legs over the side. His bare feet touch the floor but he remains perched on the chair’s edge. For the first time, James realizes that the Captain is dressed in sleeping clothes. A standard issue tee shirt and cotton pants are all he wears. “Bucky,” he says again, holding out an arm in James’ direction. It is unclear if the gesture is meant to beckon James closer or to keep him at bay. James is not unaware that, omega or not, he presents a threatening image to most men. With this in mind he narrows his stance, draws his shoulders down to seem as small and nonthreatening as possible. Hopefully this will keep the Captain from trying to do something as counterproductive as running, or fighting.

“I realize you don’t recognize me, but don’t be scared. I’m not going to hurt you. My name’s Steve.

James blinks at him. He takes stock of the situation. Captain Rogers—Steve—has been made aware of his role in the breeding program. He’s been given his orders just like James has, but he’s resisting. James can smell it on him, the warring scents of desire and disgust. James steps closer, tilting his head to the side once he’s just in front of him. “Smell that?” he asks, being sure to keep his eyes cast down. The Captain’s hands are clenched tightly by his sides as James bares his neck in a submissive gesture. “Come on,” he says as gently as he can. “Alpha?”

“Don’t,” Steve bites out. He sounds pained. “Don’t call me that Buck.”

James bites his cheek, thinking he may just have to use physical force if this man won’t listen. “You’re in forced rut,” he says, trying again. “That can’t feel good.”

Steve huffs an abortive laugh. “Yeah.”

“You’re flushed,” James tells him. There is perspiration all along the collar of Steve’s tee. “And you’re hot. Burning-up-inside hot. Believe me I know how it feels. When you’re so desperate that you’re miserable?” He reaches for the hem of his own shirt, pulls it quickly over his head. He knows that the movement makes his scent burst into the air. Now his top half is exposed and James has to hold in the sigh that wants to come at the relief of having that much less clothing on his body. He tosses his shirt aside. In front of him, Steve’s nostrils are flaring. “It doesn’t have to be like that,” he tells him, “You can have me. It’ll help.”

Steve’s fingers sink into the chair’s cushion, little bits of foam padding ripping out and falling to the floor. His scent is soaring—a deep, rich scent like copper and burnt wood. James grits his teeth at the sudden urge to drop and present. He slowly reaches out with his flesh hand and touches Steve’s thigh. “Why are you afraid?” he asks. It’d be nice to know. Everyone always seems to know more than he does…

“I can’t hurt you like this Buck. I just can’t.”

James shushes him, ignores the continued use of that nonsensical name, Bucky. “You won’t,” he soothes, pulling lightly at the fabric of Steve’s pants in an effort to get him to slide off the chair. “I’m in heat. I’m ready. It won’t hurt.”

Steve scoffs, but he does allow himself to be moved. Standing barefoot, they come eye to eye. “That’s not the kind of hurt I meant.”

James ignores the clench his heart gives as he thinks of Brock. He wonders if his alpha is watching from another room, observing them through a little camera. He hopes not. “Come here,” James says, pulling Steve forward. Steve’s hands find their way to his hips, and James feels more slick rush out of his body at the contact. He whimpers without meaning to. “Scent me,” he says, tilting his head again. He’s pressing up against Steve, their bodies connected from thigh to chest. He can feel the alpha’s erection and he’s certain that Steve can feel his. But that hardly matters as Steve releases an answering growl somewhere in his throat. His head dips down and he buries his nose in the crook of James’ neck. James’ breath leaves him in a satisfied puff. He’s been in heat for nearly twenty-four hours with no relief until now. He’d been expecting Brock, his mate, but the mission has changed.

His body has already decided for him, he realizes. It doesn’t matter that this isn’t Brock. Doesn’t matter that it’s a stranger who’s been selected to put pups in him. James’ body recognizes this Steve for what he is; a strong, virile alpha.

The Asset grabs Steve with his metal hand, pushing him towards the bed before the other man can protest.

Steve stumbles over his own feet, not having been prepared for the rough grab and push of Bucky’s metal arm. He falls gracelessly back onto the room’s bed with a grunt. Bucky doesn’t give him time to recover. He’s there in a flash, one hand planted in the center of Steve’s chest and the other yanking down his pants. Bucky tosses them to the floor and reaches for Steve’s shirt. But Steve isn’t having it. He grabs Bucky’s arms and attempts to fight him. They grapple for all of three seconds before Bucky has him pinned, and Steve is panting furiously. The drugs make him so much weaker than before. With Bucky’s metal arm in play he doesn’t stand a chance. Begging is all he’s got left, it seems. “Please,” he says, staring imploringly. “You don’t want to do this.”

Bucky ignores him completely. He rips Steve’s tee shirt down the front like it’s paper, pulls it off of him and throws it somewhere in the general vicinity of where the pants had gone. Leaning forward over Steve’s now-naked body, he gives a very un-omega like growl. “Stay down.” He stands up and divests himself of the boots he’s wearing, then his pants.

Of course Steve doesn’t listen. He manages to prop himself up by the time Bucky’s taking his underwear off, and the scent that hits Steve then is so strong it makes him clench his eyes shut. “Fuck.” He can’t look at Bucky, he can’t or he’ll lose his shit. The bed dips and Steve jerks as Bucky pulls him to lie down again, too much naked skin pressed up along his own. “Bucky, don’t—” He’s cut off by lips crashing down on his own. Bucky wastes no time in forcing his way, mouthing and biting at Steve to make him open up. His hands pull at Steve’s hair and he fucks his tongue lewdly into his mouth. A garbled noise that probably would have been a moan had it been allowed to form leaves Steve, his hands grabbing the first part of Bucky they can find—his hips. Steve pulls on Bucky, whether to bring him closer or push him away he’s not sure, but he winds up tugging the other man fully atop him, and the second Steve feels him start rolling his hips downwards, he’s lost.

Bucky breaks the kiss, pulling away. Steve opens his eyes to see the omega staring at him, eyes a hard grey. He’s still fucking downwards, rubbing himself off against the crest of Steve’s groin, and his breath has become harsh. “This is our mission,” he breathes, sounding rough and desperate. “We have to. You have to.”

Steve feels sickness rise up and mingle with the desperation of his rut again. “No.”

“Yes.”

Steve repeats the ‘no’ several times more as Bucky continues to writhe against him, but his hands don’t loosen their hold on Bucky’s hips, and he doesn’t try to push Bucky off of him. “I can’t.”

Bucky makes an angry sound in his throat and yanks Steve’s head back with the grip he has on his hair. It’s his metal hand and it hurts. “You don’t have a choice,” he says. Steve growls at the dominant gesture, his hindbrain urging him to put the omega in his place. But Bucky leans closer again. For a second Steve thinks he’s going to kiss him, but he doesn’t. He puts his lips to Steve’s ear, the dark length of his hair falling around them. “Don’t make me take it,” he whispers, sounding desperate. His hips have not stopped moving. “Please. Alpha. You’re supposed to give it to me. Take me. Don’t make me do it.”

Steve groans. There’s nothing worse that Bucky could have said. He’s in heat, and Steve’s in rut, and now he’s calling Steve Alpha and begging Steve to mate with him the way that he wants it; to take him the way an alpha should take their omega. Steve opens his eyes to find Bucky staring at him once again, only this time his eyes are soft and his brow is pinched—pleading. He looks more like the Bucky that Steve remembers, and Steve can’t ignore the urge within himself to make that pleading look go away, to satisfy.

He flips them over. The only reason he’s able to do it is because he takes Bucky completely by surprise. Bucky’s eyes go wide for a moment, assessing a threat, before he realizes the move for what it is and he relaxes and purrs. Steve doubts himself immediately. He brings his hands to Bucky’s face, pleased when he’s not pushed away and Bucky fucking bends his neck to expose himself. “Alpha,” Bucky whines, but Steve’s not having it.

“You listen to me,” he says angrily, using the last goddamn piece of himself that he has left to convey seriousness in his tone. Bucky stares at him obediently and Steve swallows. “They don’t wipe my memory, got it? You may not remember me, but I remember you. And I won’t hurt you. I hurt you, you have to tell me. If you want to stop, you tell me. Got it?”

James frowns, even in his lust-ridden brain he knows he does. This stranger—no, some distant and unreachable part of his mind corrects, not a stranger—Steve—is referencing the wipes, is telling him that they’ve met before. James can’t disprove such a claim. He wonders if this Captain Rogers was once his handler, or possibly a target. He wonders if “Bucky” was his call sign then. Steve is still staring intently at him, waiting for his answer, and James shakes his head to get the thoughts to go away. They’re not important, not relevant to the mission. If his promise is all the Captain needs, then it means nothing to James to give it. “You won’t hurt me,” he says again, thinking that the alpha above him is stupid to imagine that he could, but adds, “I’ll tell you if you do.”

That seems to settle it for Steve. He comes down and kisses James’ forehead, leaves his lips to linger there in a manner that makes James distinctly uncomfortable—as if they are old friends, or family even. “Okay,” he says quietly. “Turn over.”

James flips, never having obeyed an order so quickly. He tries to push himself up to present but with Steve’s heavy weight at his back he can’t do it. Behind, he can feel the alpha’s hardness pressing between his cheeks and it makes him whine needily. This may be a mission, but he’s still been left wanting and unfulfilled for close to going on twenty four hours now. There are no feelings of doubt or discontent with the situation that James needs to force down to be a good soldier. He’s allowed to want this, and he does. “Alpha,” he urges when Steve doesn’t move to penetrate him. “Please. Now, please.”

He can feel the exact moment when Steve gives in. His hands are clamped tightly on James’ wrists to keep him still, but when James nearly begs to be fucked it seems to push the alpha off whatever edge of hesitance he’s still managing to hang onto. James can feel Steve’s cock on his ass as he allows himself to thrust at last. The teasing slide is made easier by the slick that’s gathered there. James groans in frustration, rubbing his face into the bed and fairly suffocating himself as he waits for the other man to get on with it and get inside of him. He’s aching for it, for the stretch and pressure of an alpha’s cock, for a knot. He knows he’ll start yelling in a moment if Steve doesn’t DO SOMETHING.

But he does, and James doesn’t have to yell at him after all. Steve presses up onto his arms, the sweaty warmth of his chest leaving James’ back. He positions himself, bumping against James’ hole, and it’s a relief that he forgoes the unnecessary gesture of using fingers first—James is sure he would snap at him if he tried. Steve presses inside, entering him slowly but never stopping until he’s fully seated, his hips flush with James’ ass. It’s not hard to take him in. James’ body is slick and ready for it and he groans lowly into the bed at the sheer relief of it. “Yesss,” he hisses, and turns his head as much as he can to look back at Steve. The man looks about as gone for it as James feels, and a dark thrill shoots through him at the thought that he’s about to be taken just the way he wants to be. Fucked and bred just the way his body is crying out for. It may not be Brock, but James has decided not to think about that. All he can think about in his current state is Steve; the smell of him, the feel of him, even the sounds he makes, it all feels too perfectly satisfying. Maybe it has something to do with the barrage of drugs the techs had shot him up with yesterday. Maybe. He’s not supposed to care though, and he doesn’t. He tries to thrust his hips backwards, wanting movement and having no idea how the other man can bear to hold so still now that they’re connected. There’s nowhere to go with Steve pinning him down at the hips, but he knows the Alpha feels him squirming, recognizes it for the request that it is. “Move,” James says, sounding more demanding than a good omega should. “God just…”

Steve has a hand in his hair and his nose in his neck before James can finish the sentence. A very low growl, almost a feeling more than a sound, is coming out steadily from his chest. It makes goosebumps break out on James’ arms. “Are you telling me what to do?” Steve asks.

Against the bed, Bucky’s mouth splits in a smug grin. This is what he wanted, what Brock would’ve done. At the height of his heats, all the asset wants, all James wants, is to be taken. To be held down and owned. James strains to look back over his shoulder. The angle is awkward but he ignores it, fixing Steve with what he hopes is a challenging stare. If he has to goad the alpha into a more feral headspace to get things done, then by god that’s exactly what he’ll do. “I came here to get fucked, so yeah, I am. Move,” he bites out, hoping that it will spur Steve into action. It does. He pulls out, ignoring James’ cry of protest. His big hands slide down to his hips and he gets onto his knees behind him. James follows, pressing back and presenting. He can feel Steve’s hands pulling him apart, baring his hole. There is silence and James knows without having to look that Steve is just staring at him. The thought of it makes him shudder. He presses his face into the bedding and whines.

“God,” Steve exclaims softly, dragging a thumb across his leaking hole. “You’re soaked.”

James cannot stop whining low, needy omega sounds. Then he feels the blunt head of Steve’s cock at his entrance and he moans. “Yes,” he hisses, though it’s muffled against the sheets. He presses his ass back harder, and that causes Steve to pop inside of him. The alpha grunts in surprise, but then he’s right back to thrusting, this time faster. Just as deep though, and god, if that isn’t exactly what James wants. “Oh, hugn—oh!” The noises he’s making are obscene but James hardly notices. They seem to drive Steve on, his hips slapping harder each time he moans particularly loud.

It goes on like this until James reaches for his own cock. He only gets a couple of strokes in before Steve is knocking his hand away. James cries out indignantly but then Steve pulls out, flips him over and pushes right back in. He wraps his hand around James’ cock, hips working at the same pace as his hand. He’s staring down at James with a burning intensity, breath heavy with his efforts. “Mine,” he growls, giving a calculated twist on the upstroke.

James’ eyes roll back in his head. “Ugh, fuuck.” It’s incredible and nothing he’s used to. No alpha has ever done this for him before, always leaving it to him to take care of. He can hardly thrust into the grip very well when he’s being fucked as hard as he is, but damn if he doesn’t try. “Please,” he groans, grappling at Steve’s shoulders for something to hold onto. He hardly knows what he’s asking for. The alpha is sweaty above him and James’ hands glide over the muscles in his back. “Please, Steve,”

Steve’s eyes shoot to his at the use of his name. Something raw and more intense than what they’re doing now passes through them, and before James knows what’s happening he’s being kissed. It’s not gentle. It’s plying, and insistent, and needy. God, is it needy. Steve is kissing him like it’s the answer to something and all James can do is go along for the ride.

“Bucky,” Steve is grunting at him when he finally parts enough to speak. James knows he’s speaking to him, so he opens his eyes to the nonsensical name. He doesn’t really care what this man calls him, so long as he never stops. “Buck I’m gonna,” Steve tells him, brow sweaty and pinched. “I have to.”

James groans, feeling how true the alpha’s words are. His knot is growing, tugging more insistently with every thrust. When it feels like Steve might pull away at the last second, James wraps his arms and legs around him in a fierce hold. “No,” he begs. “Inside me. I need it.” He’s not thinking even a little bit about the mission now, only the ache inside him. It’s an ache only a knot will fix, and he whimpers this to Steve as he holds him. “Knot me. Alpha, please. Want to feel it. Fill me up. Breed me.”

Steve makes a filthy sound and shoves forward, groaning long and low into James’ ear. His knot catches, fully blown as he climaxes. His hand has stopped moving over James’ cock but it hardly matters now. He’s rocking his hips shallowly, pulling his knot taut against James’ rim, pulsating it over his prostate again and again and again. James doesn’t need anything else to make him come spectacularly.

“Why do you torture yourself like this?”

Brock doesn’t turn around from the observation window. He figures Rollins is just here to taunt him anyway. “Nobody asked you to come in here,” he says quietly, attention still fixed on the pair in the next room.

“Yeah well…” Rollins comes up and stands right next to Brock, eyes taking in the same sight. “I was curious.” When Brock says nothing, he adds, “Looks like they’re finished.”

Brock scoffs and turns abruptly from the window, putting his back to it. “They’re not fucking finished.” Idiot, he wants to add. He scrubs his hands over his face and it occurs to him that he needs to shave. “That was just round one.” Brock doesn’t know about Rogers, but he is intimately familiar with his own omega’s stamina during a heat. “They’ll be in there for a good two days at least.”

“And you’re just going to stand here and watch?” Rollins rolls his eyes. “Stupid.”

“I can’t do anything else,” Brock snaps, irritated at his friend. “You’ve never been bonded. You wouldn’t understand.”

“No?”

“No.” He sighs. “You think what? It’s just jealousy?” He shakes his head. “I could handle that. But this… It’s like a physical ache.” He turns slightly to glance through the window again, thinks better of it, and turns back around. “Can’t stand it.”

“Can’t do anything to change it.” Rollins points out. “You never should’ve gotten so close. He’s just a thing, and at the end of the day he’s Hydra’s thing, not yours.”

“Yeah.” Brock really doesn’t have it in him to argue that point. He wants to, but he doesn’t. It isn’t like he doesn’t wish he could set the poor SOB free. But that’s never going to happen, and playing house with his bonded for the last six months has just been wishful thinking. “They still going at it?” he asks, unwilling to turn around and look again. He wasn’t exactly getting off on the sight before.

Rollins looks. “Naw. Resting.”

Brock grits his teeth, can’t keep the image of that goddamn super soldier, tied to his mate, out of his head.

“You think it’ll take?”

“Christ Rollins, you just don’t quit. Of course it will.” Pretty soon he’ll have to see the soldier, heavy with a litter of his pups. He hates it. Hates it more than anything.

Rollins shrugs and claps a hand onto Brock’s shoulder. “Don’t stay in here.” Another glance back. “He’s obviously not going to hurt ‘im. Leave them to it. Come and have a drink with me.”

Brock looks at Rollins then and really considers him. He calls him his friend, but the truth is the two of them are just the same as the Winter Soldier—property of Hydra. It’s taken years for him to realize it, but it’s true. Still, Rollins is offering him a drink now, and even more than that, a temporary escape. It’s the closest thing to friendly Brock’s ever gotten from the other man, and he figures it’s the best he’s going to get for a while. He might as well go. Because Rollins is right; he never should have gotten so close.

Brock sighs and nods at Rollins. Tells him, “Yeah. Yeah I think I will.”

Masterlist

🍵Extra funds? Consider tipping your local starving artist smut author!

💖To be added to any of my tag lists, please use This form (it's easy!)

✍🏻Commissions: reach out via Tumblr DM or contact here

@scottishrosefury, @not-that-syndrigast, @lolitsbuckybarnes, @kathy-2005, @stuckysgal, @thenewmissescullen, @sapphirebarnes, @Yoruse, @autumnrose40, @alexakeyloveloki

34 notes · View notes