Chapter Text
With a hand plastered over the smaller man’s mouth, Steve bodily hauls him outside the house, and into a narrow back-alley.
The man struggles and tries to fight him, but all Steve has to do is rub the inside of his wrist under the man’s nose again, and he goes limp in his arms. He can’t fight the overpowering smell of an alpha in rut no more than Steve can let go of the omega. This little omega whose smell he caught even through the thick stench of fear and blood and death.
The alpha's body shakes with the memory and if the omega wasn't in heat, crazed pheromones controlling Steve's protective instincts like the sweet enthralling song of a siren, Steve would have pushed the desk the smaller man was hiding underneath and instead of grabbing him and getting them both out of the crime scene as fast as possible, he'd have taken his time. He'd have toyed with this terrified creature, excited him to the point of delirium and then...
...and then sank his teeth deep into the tender skin at the base of the omega's neck, in that place where the smell is the strongest, breaching the skin and drinking his fill. Fear and arousal are the headiest combination and their taste is addicting. He'd have drunk until he was filled with the other's essence, until he'd reclaimed what was rightfully his - and only then would he have cut a smile in the omega's throat and held the quivering, gurgling man tight against his chest to provide comfort and care for his dying mate.
If he hadn't been in heat, Steve would have already killed him.
Steve loves the heady feeling of breaking into another alpha's territory, walking all over a house filled with someone else's scent and leaving his mark everywhere. Ruining it. He loves to defy those who think they're bigger and stronger than him, who think they're a match for Steve's sharp teeth and sharper knife.
He always kills the alphas first, because there's no point in playing with them. He catches the omega first because they're easier to take care of, ties them where the show is going to take place, and then lures the alpha in there. Steve wants to destroy them in front of their mates; he goes at every alpha he makes his target, in perfect harmony with the beast lurking behind his cold blue eyes, with teeth and nails and every other weapon he can find and he doesn't stop until he's painted the walls with the unrecognizable remains of his victim.
Then comes the omega's turn. And this is where Steve finally gets to have some real fun.
Killing their alpha in front of them is a crucial point in Steve's ritual. His chosen ones are always mated pairs, and to claim a mated omega one needs to severe the previous bond. Steve doesn't believe in the concept of mating for life. If that was the case, how was he able to claim all these omegas for himself? If that was the case, how could he pretend to the title of Apex Predator - the alpha on the top of the food chain? Steve's heard of that term a long time ago, when he was still small and sickly and everyone's favorite punching bag. All the other kids had enjoyed tormenting little Steve who they saw as inferior; alphas told him he would never be one of them as they pushed his head down the toilet, and omegas stood back and enjoyed the show, calling him names and laughing. They were always laughing.
Now it's Steve's turn to laugh.
He's the ultimate predator coming for every single alpha who's got the misfortune of crossing his path and attracting his attention in any way, and he's coming with death in his wake. The book that first taught him about the existence of an Apex Predator in every animal reign was the thing that saved his life, way back then. When Steve was weak and scrawny and on the brink of giving up and throwing himself off a bridge the next time his mom let him come home from school on his own, believing all the other kids' cruel words; believing with an unshakable clarity that those who were too weak should not have the right to live and breathe on this Earth.
The day he was about to take act, right after class his classmates had been relentlessly coming after him, deciding on pursuing him to his house. So in order to escape them, Steve had run for his life, and stumbled completely out of breath and tears running down his cheeks into the local library. He had crawled under a table far away into the depths of the library and found solace, and a strange sense of calm, into a book lying on the floor, as if waiting to be picked up by little Steve.
Apex Predator - Index
There had been pages and pages about every specific alpha predator in every ecosystem, for every species. Except humans. There had been very little on the existence of a top-level alpha emerging in the midst of the human race, an individual which no one else predates. The one alpha which all the other insignificant alphas should defer to. The one which every omega would be dying to attract, and which every omega would rightfully belong to.
It'd been like a revelation. Steve had always felt deep down that he was special. Now he knew who he was meant to be. Who he already was but just hadn't known it yet. Because all those things he'd read about, he'd wanted them. Wanted them badly. The other kids had to have felt what Steve could become; had to have felt threatened, and Steve couldn't blame them anymore than they could blame him for what he would become. It was only biology. It was the laws of nature, and all abide to them.
From that day on, Steve had a purpose in life. And the training had started.
Tonight is the first time things turned south for Steve. As he holds the smaller omega so tight against his chest he knows he'll be leaving bruises, the omega's head cradled in one bloodied hand and tucked securely under Steve's chin, Steve is thinking - frenetically.
The neighbors have heard the commotion. Steve's usually been very efficient at keeping it quiet. He always makes sure to gag the omega some way or another, and once the alpha's seen him it's already too late to call for help. After years of practice, first with imaginary targets and then with live ones, Steve's reflexes appear almost superhuman.
The first place he lunges for is the throat. He'll lure the alpha into the room where their omega is standing bound and gagged and completely helpless, then he'll leap out like a panther, all grace and precision and death and strike the alpha's tracheae, breaking skin and cartilage with the blunt edge of his hand, effectively silencing his victim in one single blow.
Then it's only a matter of seconds before the alpha's sprawled on the floor at Steve's feet, eyes empty and unseeing, their blood coloring the strands of Steve's blond hair, clinging to his long eyelashes, spilling from the corners of his mouth and dripping from his hands.
This time's different. He's been watching the couple from a distance for the past four days, turning into their silent shadow at the movie theater, at the grocery shop, at work, and even in their house, hiding in the backyard and observing with focused intent everything that happens on the other side of the transparent curtains.
He knows that they're not mated yet. He knows that the alpha is seeing another omega and that his current omega knows and is letting it happen. They're waiting to be sure they're really compatible before proceeding to the mating - like most couples do. Usually, Steve prefers the mated pairs. But something in the smell of that omega had compelled him to pick them in the busy crowd where they'd crossed paths.
Now Steve knew what it had been; what it is now. The omega had been on the cusp of his heat cycle. Usually, omegas who feel their heat coming will stay at home and wait it out with their partners or for the unmatched ones - with the help of toys and fingers and sometimes, cold showers and lots of prayers. Steve's heard it's a very painful thing to experience a heat without a partner.
Usually, Steve stays away from omegas in heat. He doesn't like the idea of being a slave to his instincts, of servicing someone else, someone lower than him. Steve hasn't even ever had any sexual contact with an omega. When he was younger, and he hadn't had the time to fill out yet, he'd been taken forcefully by another alpha, and Steve hadn't been able to do much about it than bite on his tongue until he tasted blood, and... wait it out.
He'd waited two long years with vengeance burning inside his chest like a white-hot star, then he'd set his step-father's house on fire. It didn't matter that his mother was still inside when the smoke reached the couple's bedroom and quickly asphyxiated the pair, leaving them no chance. It didn't matter that everyone thought little Steve had died in the "accidental fire of unknown origin", too, even though the body could never be found or identified.
It'd been Steve's first victory over the world. It'd been Steve's first reclaim of something that should have been his to give in the first place. Steve had smiled at the column of black smoke rising towards the sky. He'd watched, reflections of the flames dancing in his cold blue eyes. He'd grinned, all teeth showing, and then he had laughed and laughed and laughed.
And he'd never let anyone else touch him. Or felt any desire to breed anyone, ever.
The Apex Predator wouldn't be a slave to his urges.
Tonight, they had been waiting for him. And it all went south because of Steve's rising popularity.
He's been dubbed by the media "The Matchwrecker" - in reference to his modus operandi which entailed targeting mated (and mostly male-only) couples, taking the alpha out of the picture and claiming their partner. Steve's got a copy of all and every article written about his kills. They fill him with self-righteousness and vindication that what he does is important enough to appear in the media - but he's however less than thrilled with his name. The Matchwrecker. It's silly. It doesn't sound as impressive and dangerous and superior as he feels. It doesn't reflect his true message at all.
Steve still hasn't found a way to make the media and the general public understand. But soon, they will understand, and they'll know. After enough killings, they'll have to.
But willing or not, he's made himself a name, and he should have known some people would start to get prepared just in case. These two weren't even bonded yet, but they still had to have sensed his arrival. Steve's usually good at concealing his scent, always covering it up with dirt and chemicals of all sorts, and making sure to stand against the wind.
The alpha was still waiting for him. Steve had broken into the house silent as a cat, entering the place by forcing one of the windows on the upper level. He'd trained his body in parkour for years, haunting the deserted parts of every town he settled temporarily in, so it was pretty easy for him to climb the facade and get inside.
Then he'd gone in search of the omega. He knew the couple went their separate ways after dinner, only to reunite in their bedroom in which Steve had been standing at that moment. The omega's scent had been strong - maybe too strong for someone who wasn't in the room anymore. And Steve should have distinguished and recognized the heat pheromones permeating the air, but... he couldn't exactly remember if he'd noticed it or not. Maybe he had, but captivated by the sensations of his body's response to such a powerful call, he'd decided to ignore the warning bells? Regardless, he'd followed the trail into another room down the hallway, and once he'd turned the handle and pushed the panel of the door - all hell had broken loose.
Now he's got an omega - an omega burning with need - clutching him tight and moaning softly against the fabric of Steve's blood-soaked jacket. And the neighbors have probably already called the police, who won't take long to arrive. And once they're here, the first thing they'll do is lock down the perimeter. And if Steve and the little omega haven't cleared out by then... Steve won't be able to help this little thing in need.
This omega who needs him, who is calling so sweetly to him, and who's currently experiencing pain beyond belief because Steve has failed to come up with a viable plan yet.
"A... A-alpha," the omega's sobs that are suddenly wrecking his whole frame are both terrifying and electrifying.
Steve stands up straighter at the omega's call, and takes a decision partially influenced by his rut. And although he should take this omega right here and right now, because that's what he needs and that's what Steve wants, they don't have the time. Steve hates having to compromise, but in this case, his body is compelling him to think of the other first. If they catch Steve, the omega will remain without a mate, and he'll suffer. He needs Steve to take them both to safety, now. And only then will Steve be able to do something about the smaller man's hard little member poking him insistently where he's started to rub himself clumsily against the alpha's strong thigh.
"Come," Steve growls in the omega's ear, and drags them both towards the bottom of the alley, ignoring the omega's choked complaints.
Steve doesn't have a car because he's been living not far from his targets' house. He rents cars when he needs to leave a city, but never leaves any traces behind, and never uses anything that requires an ID once he's settled somewhere. The public transport is one of his favorite places for tracking potential new targets, or simply walking on the streets with his hood over his head and his nose up in the air.
There's an abandoned warehouse there on the outskirts of the city, and shielded by the night, Steve and the omega find their way to Steve's hideout that he's established there with a minimum of trouble.
The place used to be infested with homeless people, but Steve has... taken care of them. Now it's only him controlling the vast space. When he pushes his captive omega head-first through the door and then follows suit, closing the heavy metal panel behind himself, he grabs hold of the other man again, saving him in extremis from falling flat on his face when he stumbles against an invisible obstacle, and pushes him further inside.
The place is still part of the grid, probably because it must be governmental property so it's still supplied in electricity by the city. There's a switch that'll turn feeble and flickering lights situated high against the walls of the warehouse, but Steve doesn't like using them much, so he doesn't turn it on. They'll also attract too much attention if he uses them too much. He keeps directing the smaller man ahead, knowing full well where he's going. In a corner of the warehouse, Steve's established his temporary camp, and that's where he'll find all the necessary tools to take care of the omega - ropes, scotch tape, some fabric to use as a gag and sedatives although his captive doesn't look like he'll need those. He's been very quiet and compliant the whole walk to his partner's murderer's house, and Steve's in equal parts grateful and worried about such an unexpected behavior.
His vision's almost as good in the dark as it is in the light of day, and the windows cut into the roof are letting in some of the moonlight, which is enough for Steve to lead them without a hitch to his camp, where he pushes the omega one last time and down onto an old plastic chair.
The smaller man goes down without a fight, and merely utters a soft little whine when Steve lets go of him and crouches before crawling inside his tent and starts rummaging through his meager belongings, all acquired in this city without any trouble. He comes out with a length of rope, a bottle of water and one of his shirts. He doesn't know if the omega can see much of him in the dim moonlight bathing the inside of the warehouse, but Steve can clearly see the way the eyes of the other man widen at his approach, and how he squirms anxiously on the chair.
He smells wonderful. Steve can't help the way his whole body responds to being in close proximity with the omega in heat. He takes hold of the other's hands and brings them palm against palm behind the omega's back before binding them with the rope and tightening it with a knot around the back of the chair until he's sure the omega can't get free even if he struggles. He considers binding his feet, too, but then thinks about the practicality of bound legs when having sexual intercourse and decides against it. If the omega decides to run, he surely won't go far before Steve catches him.
The shirt he slowly sets aside, not yet sure about gagging the omega either. He finally picks the bottle of water and splashes his face with the cool liquid, getting rid of the blood and smell of the dead alpha. He's enjoyed wearing his victim's scent like a trophy, but he refuses to keep it when he needs the omega to smell him and only him. He grabs the shirt back after he's done and dries his face and as much as he can of his short hair.
And then... then comes the difficult part. The part where he's supposed to have sex with the omega. Steve's hard cock twitches inside his pants at the idea, but something's still holding him back. It's fear, and it's pride, and he really doesn't know if he'll be able to actually do this. He's in rut, he's been ever since he caught the sweet smell of an omega in heat, and unmated at that, and his member's been hard for so long now inside his pants that he's starting to ache a little. He'll need some kind of release, soon, and he knows there's no way he'll get it if he doesn't pop a knot. That'll require Steve either touching himself and bringing himself to a lonely and painful climax, or... taking the omega, and giving them both what they need.
Under Steve's scrutiny, the dark haired man moans softly and grinds his ass hard against the chair. Steve can see him rolling his hips, trying to get some friction against the bulge in his pants, and probably also over his leaking hole. Steve can smell the sweet fragrance of the omega's slick from where he's crouching, and he keeps losing his train of thought because of it.
"Alpha?" comes a quiet cry and Steve has to bite his upper lip to keep the frustrated answering groan from escaping him.
He can do this. This is only natural, and he'll be the one in charge from beginning to end. All Steve has to do is let go, and trust his instincts to take over. Even though he hates that feeling because it'd mean a certain loss of control over himself.
Inhaling deeply, Steve goes down on his knees, and crawls slowly closer to the omega. He's never done this before, never touched anyone else unless it's to exact pain and death. All he's ever done was biting and claiming the omegas, before taking their lives and watching them exhale their last breath. He'd left his marks on them, because he enjoyed it, and because it's a statement of who the omegas belong to. He kills them because only death is able to quench the dark greed eating at Steve when he's standing in front of an omega he's claimed.
But he can't kill this one, not for the duration of his heat and Steve's own rut. That'll be a week, give or take, and it's a week Steve'll have to spend in very close quarters with another person, and that idea only is already enough to make him feel out of balance. Steve hasn't spent such a great amount of time with another human being in a very long time; enough to make him nervous. The omega will live for as long as it takes for Steve's rut to burn out, and then he'll sink his teeth into that delicate neck and bring the omega a well-earned death. The "play" part of Steve's ritual will only last a little longer, this time, that's all.
When he's close enough, Steve puts both palms on the omega's quivering thighs, and watches the other's eyes flutter closed.
"Please... alpha," he pleads so meekly, submissive behavior calling to every single one of Steve's answering dominant instincts.
Steve leans over and smells the omega, who whines in response. Steve slides his knees closer, opening his legs to give his cock some space inside the confines of his pants, and pushes his nose right against the omega's crotch. He inhales the pheromones, loudly, brushing his nose over the bulge a couple of times before nipping the fabric with his teeth. Above him, the omega's sent into a frenzy by the alpha's teasing, mewling and pleading and tugging against his restrains, legs shaking but held firmly down by Steve's hands.
"Shhhhhh," he whispers against the omega's member he can feel pulsating underneath the fabric.
The omega mumbles something incoherent before going completely limp under Steve's hands. Steve reaches back and pulls out the knife from its sheath strapped around his right ankle. He brings the knife to the omega's lap, and grins wide when he catches the shock sparking inside the other man's big watery eyes.
"Please, don't kill me," the omega pleads, and Steve hums in reply.
The omega starts crying, softly, and Steve does nothing to reassure him. He likes the power he holds over the omega, and isn't about to give any reassurance away about the way he's decided to handle this situation. He'd rather let the omega believe he could die at any moment. It'll only heighten any moment they get to spend together, Steve thinks as a dark smile tugs at his lips.
Forcing the omega's legs open a little bit more, Steve applies the sharp point of the knife against the edge of the omega's pants. He can hear the man above him hold his breath, and he can smell his tears sliding down sweat-dampened skin. Steve starts cutting through the seams with a calculated precision, and it doesn't take long for his sharp knife to cut a large opening in the omega's pants, and then the soft cotton briefs underneath.
Turning the knife in his hand so that the pointy side is now facing down, Steve grabs the two sides of the opening and tugs hard. The omega doesn't make a sound as Steve tears through his clothes like an animal would do, but he's started breathing again, short panting breaths filling the air.
Steve peels the omega out of the torn garments in silence, ordering him to move his legs this and that way with a simple slap applied directly on nude skin, and the omega seems to understand the meaning every time. And Steve's starting to understand why he's been so compliant. The omega's head is lolling against his left shoulder, and he's drenched in sweat. Although his gaze is always trained on the man between his legs with the knife in one hand, his eyes are glassy with lust and he looks on the verge of loosing consciousness altogether. He's been experiencing the first stages of his heat for a little over two hours now - those are the strongest ones - and he still hasn't been offered any relief. He's in a haze of lust mixed with painful arousal and a constant high fever; right now he'd be ready to do anything if it'd get him Steve's cock buried deep inside him.
When he uncovers the omega's leaking cock and takes his first sniff, Steve can feel himself loosing another small part of his sanity to his rut. The air's permeated with the smell of pure arousal and need, but mostly with the sweet smell of an omega in heat, all ripe for the taking. Steve used to think he loved biting unwilling omegas, but for some inexplicable reason, this feels a hundred times better. The anticipation of biting a very willing, very eager partner almost makes his brain short-circuit. Maybe it's the knowledge that, for the very first time, Steve's wanted there. He's craved like a glass of water in the middle of the desert. It's a brand new feeling, and if Steve's not careful he could come to crave it, too.
When he ducks his head and takes the omega's small cock inside his mouth and sucks the bittersweet juices leaking profusely from the slit, he's distantly aware of the man moaning brokenly and in relief above him. He's scratching the omega's thighs with his three weeks old scruff every time he bobs his head, and that gets him even more delirious little sounds of delighted pleasure. This is familiar, in the way he's watched many of his victims perform the act while he prowled outside their homes, planning his attack. But it's also not because he's never... heard it. And his victims are usually bound and gagged, because he can't leave them any chances to call for help, and alert the neighborhood of Steve's presence. He likes them quiet, only allows the sound of muffled screaming.
But in this completely isolated place where nobody can hear, and nobody can witness Steve's darkness, he's decided to see what kinds of sounds he can get this omega to make, and the result is more than Steve's expected. It's empowering, it's terrifying, it's a whole new dimension on top of the usual sensations, and Steve catches himself thrusting once against the chair, too excited to control his impulses. He needs to mate this omega, he needs to spear him on his cock and pop his knot deep inside his hot little ass.
He slowly licks up the omega's hard member, gives it one farewell lick under the head and lifts his head from his lap.
"Oh... alpha, fuck me, please?"
The tears are still spilling freely from the omega's eyes, and there's saliva clinging to his lips when he begs Steve.
Steve is past any rational thinking at this point, the taste of the smaller man on his tongue and his delicious smell filling his nostrils and clouding his brain. The alpha stands up on slightly shaky legs, and shrugs his pants off without letting go of his knife. He cuts through the other man's sweater and throws the piece of ruined fabric on the ground. Then he does the same to his undershirt, and takes a moment to admire the way the omega looks all naked and bound under the moonlight, abandoned by civilization in this remote corner of the world that Steve's claimed as his own territory.
He's making those delicious sounds again, between panting and sobbing and Steve wants to reward him for being so breathtaking, so he purrs something that sounds like "good boy," and gets rewarded with another, louder sob.
Steve takes off his soiled jacket, then his blood-stained shirt too, not as indifferent as he'd like to the way the omega's interested eyes roam all over his impressive build, every bit the Apex Predator he prides himself of being. After puberty finally hit him, it almost knocked little Steve off his feet with how powerful the changes happened in him. By that time Steve had adopted another identity and already started roaming the country, finding odd jobs where he could and appealing to the hospitality of small town folks who never suspected who they had let under their roof.
Steve knows the way he looks - he's built himself a body worthy of belonging to the top-alpha, and it's no surprise that the omega is having trouble not drooling all over the place. Steve lets him look his fill, faintly amused at the way those big eyes that he can't really decide if they're blue or gray in the dim light flutter open and shut like he can't really decide if he wants to keep looking or not. Then Steve flips the knife and comes at the omega once again.
"No," the little thing chokes but this time doesn't even try to struggle, just sitting with his legs wide open, cock still hard and leaking although he sounds like he's scared to death. "I'll be good for you, I swear! I'll-I'll be so good!"
"You'll be," Steve agrees with a smirk.
Then he reaches with the knife and watches as the omega closes his eyes and keeps them tightly shut, getting ready for the bite of the steel. Steve's smile grows wider when he dips his hand behind the man and cuts the knot holding the man's bound hands tied to the back of the chair. The omega must feel the give because he opens his eyes and looks up at the alpha looming over him with a look of pure confusion.
"Up."
The omega takes a moment before the curt order can reach his lust and terror-fogged brain, and then he's scrambling to obey, eyes always trained on Steve's knife. Once he's standing up on unstable legs, Steve grabs him by the neck and turns them around so he can sit down on the chair, and then apply pressure on the smaller man's neck until he gets the message and carefully sits down in the alpha's lap. He seems hesitant about his bound hands, then eventually chooses to leave them on top of his head.
Underneath Steve's naked ass, the bottom of the chair is wet with the omega's slick. Steve hums contentedly and gets comfortable on the seat.
He brings his knife to the omega's exposed throat at the same moment that he feels more of that hot slick pouring from the omega straddling him with his legs splayed wide open, and coating the alpha's thighs in the omega's sweet smelling nectar. Steve shouldn't like the way he's starting to smell like the little omega, as if he's the one being claimed in this, but he can't exactly think straight and prefers enjoying the knowledge that he's got such a willing partner for once.
"F-f-f-fuck," the other man stutters, and he holds Steve's gaze with teary eyes and a quivering mouth while the alpha drags the blunt edge of his knife around his throat, mimicking a throat slitting.
On a sudden whim, Steve wants to taste those quivering, glistening lips, so he traces a line from the omega's Adam's apple to his cheek, and commands: "Kiss me."
The omega goes a little cross-eyed when he tries to follow the knife's path.
He mumbles, "t-t-there's no need to-" but he's brutally cut off by Steve who grabs him by the neck again and pushes him down with enough force that he probably hurts the omega. The other does cry out in pain and shock, but the sound is again cut off when his open mouth crashes against the hard line of Steve's mouth.
The moment their lips meet, the omega's lapping at Steve's pinched mouth like he's found a lollipop, and it takes Steve quite a few licks before he tries opening his mouth and meeting that little tongue with his own. It's hot and wet and it doesn't take long for Steve to invade the omega's mouth, stroking their tongues together and rubbing against the roof of the omega's mouth, which elicits all kinds of mewls and grunts from both of them.
Steve doesn't realize he's shut his eyes until he feels a pressure on his shoulders and neck, and has to open them to see what that could be.
He freezes momentarily when he notes that the omega has lowered his bound hands to rest behind Steve's neck, bringing the circle of his arms around Steve's shoulders. It's like they've been brought closer together by this simple gesture that shouldn't change so many parameters but does anyway. It suddenly feels more intimate, inside the omega's embrace. Instead of being afraid by this unexpected level of intimacy, Steve suddenly wants to get even closer.
"What's your name?" He asks in a hushed tone, applying a suddenly hesitant hand against the curve of the omega's ass and pulling him closer.
Their hard cocks brush against each other when Steve pulls them practically flush together, and the man's bound hands are digging into Steve's neck and clutching him even tighter. Steve doesn't stop him when he rolls his hips experimentally against Steve's thighs and hard cock, and moans deep in his throat.
"Bucky," the omega moans in turn, and his flushed skin colors a little more.
"Bucky", Steve repeats, and he kind of likes the sound of that.
Bucky appears confused again as he stops moving in order to carefully study the alpha, and Steve can't blame him - he's not doing any better. He wants to grab this beautiful omega and pound into him within an inch of his life. He wants to bring his knife to that beautiful throat again and cut deep into the soft skin, and paint them both in Bucky's blood from head to toe. He wants Bucky to belong only to him and no one else, and he wants it to be known by all and always. He wants to claim the omega in every ways possible and have Bucky want it too.
He...
...he'd better start with one at a time, or else he'll never get to fuck Bucky.
With no warning whatsoever, Steve throws the knife on the ground and grabs two handfuls of Bucky's ass cheeks and lifts him like he weighs nothing, arms bunching and showing all that strength Steve's truly capable of.
"Oh, wow!" Bucky yelps as he clings to Steve as best as he can, and then Steve drops him onto his cock, impaling the omega completely in one slick slide.
Bucky's cries and his own growly moan fill his ears. Steve knows he's large - larger than an omega and even larger than most alphas, included. But Bucky's beautiful and his greedy hole opens up and swallows him down with so little resistance, it shows for how long the omega's been past ready to take a cock inside him.
"Alpha, you feel so good," Bucky babbles, his bound fingers finding a way to run through the short hair at the back of Steve's head.
Steve's enamored with the fact that Bucky's been calling him by his status since the beginning, recognizing him by smell only and accepting him completely as his alpha. When he starts moving inside of him, Steve doesn't hold anything back, anxious to give his all to this wonderful mate he's found himself. He's never done this before, but he's had it "done" to him, so he knows the general idea of how the act of fucking should happen. So it's not hard to apply it now, and with the pheromones from his rut guiding him through the claiming of his omega.
His omega.
Yes!
"Alpha, alpha, please, alpha, more!"
Bucky's endless chanting is filled with need and awe in equal measures, and he meets every one of Steve's powerful thrusts up his slick channel with his own little thrusts. It feels like a challenge, like he's not getting enough from Steve and needs to put his own effort into the equation, and it just won't do.
With a resounding growl that makes his whole chest rumble, Steve lets go of Bucky's ass and grabs the edges of the chair. With that new, more solid leverage, he surges up with his pelvis and delivers a series of powerful thrusts.
"Ah, ah, ah, ah!"
Bucky can't even call for him properly anymore, can't even form the word "alpha" before he's gasping for air as he bounces forcefully up and down Steve's cock.
"Ah, ah, ah, ah, alpha!" Bucky suddenly cries out and clenches around Steve's cock with more strength than Steve's expected him to have.
The omega comes warm and wet against Steve's stomach, and the alpha doesn't hesitate for a second before burying his nose in the hollow on the left side of the smaller man's neck and biting so hard he feels his own jaw ache when he clenches hard.
"Ghhh-ugh, fuck!" The omega, incredibly, twitches all around Steve as he erupts once again and paints Steve's abs with more of his seed.
Steve keeps his teeth embedded deep into the smaller man's neck, only letting go when he feels little droplets of blood flowing down his tongue. With a possessive growl, Steve grabs the omega's head and keeps him in place as he sucks and laps at the punctures his teeth have left on the otherwise unblemished skin.
Steve hadn't planned on bonding with the omega so quickly, saving that for their last time before he's got to take his life, but he hadn't been able to control his urges - and maybe he knew he would have no chances of resisting an unmated omega in heat, taking him so good and deep and always crying for more.
Bucky's heat is only starting, though, and Steve knows their coupling is far from done. He's still hard inside of his spent omega, and he can feel that he's about to pop his first knot. There's a dull ache under and around the tip of his cock, and his balls are so drawn up tight against his ass that he just knows that this is it. He's ready to shoot his load while in rut for the first time.
"Breed me, alpha," Bucky quietly encourages him, eyelids drooping as he licks one corner of his lips and looks every bit the satisfied and well-fucked omega that Steve's made him.
Steve opens his mouth, hoping for something - maybe a kiss - and Bucky dives in with a whine and lets Steve take possession of his mouth for the second time, no hesitation or fear this time whatsoever.
Kissing is starting to really grow on Steve, especially if he's doing it with his omega, and a part of his brain wonders why he's never done this before? And forgetting for a moment about the bound and gagged faces of the many dead he's sewn behind him. All he can think about is Bucky, who's very much alive and warm and present inside Steve's arms, with his hot and slick body lovingly enveloping Steve's cock and bringing him steadily to his own climax.
"Alpha, please!"
Steve finally comes and he can't help his smile as he moans and bucks into his omega, filling him up with his seed and popping his first knot ever inside that snug heat.
"Yes, knot me! Breed me! Alpha, yes!"
Bucky flutters around him, around the sudden extra girth of him deep inside the omega, and he's spilling for the third time without a sound. Steve can feel all the muscles go slack as Bucky crumples against him afterwards, his small cock crushed against Steve's abs where it's still twitching and drooling a lasting trickle of come.
Steve's arms have somehow found their way back around his omega's body during their fucking, and now he's holding tight onto the smaller body, and finds that he's very reluctant to let go.
Not before he makes sure...
"Who do you belong to?"
Bucky moans, then simply exhales loud and hot against Steve's neck.
"You, alpha."
When Steve opens the door, a big, scruffy alpha's waiting for him with a baseball bat and doesn't even wait for him to enter the room before he's lunging at him with his improvised weapon. Steve's only got a fraction of a second to decide if he's ducking or meeting the impact head on, and he settles on the former.
He ducks away and runs down the hallway, the sound of his steps soon followed by those, heavier, of the other alpha.
The alpha's older, thus slower than Steve, and when Steve throws himself into another room he's got time to close the door behind him and turn the key into the lock before the alpha's throwing himself against it.
"Open this goddamn door, you son of a bitch!"
Steve frowns, something strange grabbing his attention. There is a strange smell in this room, and he recognizes it as the omega's scent. He thought it was leading into that other room, but it'd apparently been a trap. Here it doesn't smell that strongly, as it should be, but Steve still thinks he can hear... maybe... a heartbeat?
The alpha shouts and bangs against the door, and just keeps shouting and Steve turns his back on the annoying man on the other side and sniffs the air carefully.
He was wrong: the smell gets stronger the farther he gets from the door. Steve takes a bunch of steps into the room and it's enough for him to discover by smell and hearing only the omega hiding underneath the desk pushed against the wall.
"Open the door! I'm gonna break your fucking face if you don't open this, now!"
They must have noticed Steve trailing them, at one moment or another. Steve must have made a mistake, somewhere along the road, and his preys had grown suspicious enough that they'd been expecting his arrival. Steve doesn't know if they've called the police yet, but by the look of it, and the lack of threats about the cops, Steve surmises this alpha's... what, decided to catch The Matchwrecker by himself? And then what, kill him?
Oh foolish, foolish little man.
Decision this impudent fool and his partner won't live long to regret, however.
With a last, curious look at the desk, Steve turns back on his heels and goes to stand on one side of the door. He flattens himself as much as he can against the wall, then reaches for the key.
The moment he unlocks the door, the enraged alpha irrupts inside the room, stumbling on the carpet before righting himself by grabbing the desk with one hand. He whirls around with his bat in hand, ready to swing-
-only to shudder, shock making beady eyes go round. The alpha staggers, and looks down at Steve's hand that's nestled right against the middle of his chest.
Slowly, in order to let the man see, Steve takes out his long knife, the blade coated in dark ruby. Once it's all out, Steve grabs the man's wrist, the one still holding the bat, and strikes with his right hand, slashing the man's throat open from one ear to the other.
Red spurts out of the deep gash and hits Steve in the face, rains over his clothes and paints psychedelic lines on the white walls. Steve closes his eyes and waits it out; listens to the heavy body drop, baseball bat falling out of the dead man's grasp with a dull sound before rolling away, leaving large imprints in the pool of blood.
In the resounding silence that follows, Steve doesn't even have to strain his ears to hear it - a rustling of clothes, followed by a shaky intake of breath.
A wicked, blood-red smile appears on Steve's face.
"Come out, come out..."
"What's your name, by the way?" Bucky asks, watching the alpha's every move around the improvised camp from the inside of the tent, where he's lounging wrapped in a couple of woolen blankets. "I presume it's not "The Matchwrecker"?"
Steve throws his omega an unimpressed look, and goes back to collecting his knife and sliding it back inside its sheath still wrapped around his ankle. Morning has broken outside, and it's gotten a little less dark inside the warehouse. He's only put back his pants on, knowing that soon as he wakes up from his nap, Bucky'll be rearing to go all over again, so it's better if Steve has less clothes to take off. But Bucky's awake now, and he seems content with lying there looking adorable and so very fragile under the pile of covers. And now he's asking questions that are making Steve feel awkward, and uncomfortable. This is his first conversation in... some time. He's a bit rusted when it comes to platitudes.
"So?" Bucky prompts him again.
And Steve erupts like a goddamn geyser, without a warning sign, unable to put a lid on all these conflicting emotions regarding his mate.
"IT DOESN'T MATTER!" He bellows, and watches Bucky curl up on himself at the outburst, eyes turning opaque with fear.
Steve forces himself to breathe. He still hasn't decided if he prefers Bucky when he's getting all comfortable and cocky in his presence, or if he likes this fearful omega better.
"The only thing," Steve continues, this time in a more controlled tone, "the only thing that matters is that I'm your alpha. I like it when you call me... that," he adds, not really sure why.
Bucky emerges a little from under the covers and gives the half naked alpha a thoughtful look.
"But, if you don't give me your name, how would you know it's you I'm calling in the middle of sex? I mean, it could be any alpha. It could be-oh!"
Steve jumps on the smart-mouthed omega before he can finish and grabs him by the throat, dragging him like this out of the tent and away from the comfort of his makeshift bed. He holds him up in front of him, toes barely touching the ground and face turning red with the lack of oxygen. Bucky's eyes are jumping from Steve's own to his mouth and back to his eyes again. There's panic etched in the overwhelming white of his wide open eyes, and Steve tightens his hold just because he can and watches Bucky struggle for just a little longer.
"I'm... sorry," the dark-haired man gurgles. "Alpha!"
That last admission is probably what saves him. Steve releases most of the pressure around his omega's throat, and listens to him cough and gasp.
Unfazed by Bucky's state - he's brought it all on himself, this would teach him a lesson - Steve pushes the buck-naked omega on the hard ground and throws the omega's legs over his shoulders, unbuttoning his own pants in a couple of deft movements, holding his straining cock and directing it into Bucky's slick hole.
"N-no," Bucky complains, and strains his neck to drop small kisses on Steve's firm pectorals, quickly zeroing in on his hard nipples. "Please, I'm sore."
Steve grabs the dark curls and tugs Bucky's head back. He smiles when their eyes meet, Bucky's red-rimmed and afraid. In the light of day, Bucky's eyes appear dark blue and glinting like the surface of sunlit water.
"I'm not."
Steve enters Bucky slower this time around, gradually, a certain reluctance to inflict any undeserved pain on his omega. He wants to cherish and protect the other man, but he also needs him to show him some respect, and remember his place. The admission that he could be thinking of another one while receiving pleasure from Steve is more than just insulting.
It stings. It smarts in that place inside his chest where Steve is starting to feel things for Bucky, and the only way Steve knows how to react towards people who cause him pain is to cause them even more pain in return. Steve hopes Bucky's learned his lesson this time, because he'll surely be in a lot of pain if Bucky ever mocked him like this again, and force Steve to do something very categorical. Like breaking the cocky omega's neck.
Steve's chest would fill with so much pain if things came to this before he's had the time to get his fill of Bucky.
"Alpha," Bucky whines looking all contrite underneath him, hands reaching to tug Steve closer.
Steve drops Bucky's legs and goes willingly down to lay fully atop his omega. Bucky sighs happily and wraps his arms around Steve's shoulders and his long legs around his middle, holding onto Steve for dear life.
"I wasn't serious about the other alphas," Bucky tells him, and Steve has to close his eyes because he doesn't want to hear any more about "other alphas"; not when he can see his mark coloring the side of his bond mate's neck. "Alpha, you're... you're the only one for me, I swear!" Bucky chokes out, sounding desperate now.
"Shhhh."
"Alpha..."
"Tell me when you're about to come, baby," Steve orders, the endearment escaping him without his notice.
It doesn't go unnoticed by Bucky, who trembles under him and nods in understanding.
Steve braces himself on the cold floor and plows into his omega's body with a kind of abandon he's never experienced before. Everything's brighter and tastes sharper when he's inside Bucky, and soon enough he's ready to coat the insides of his sweet omega with his hot seed.
Bucky's delicious smell of omega in heat has started filling the air gradually around them, and Steve knows he's nearing his climax, and certainly another round of delirious, heat-induced arousal.
"A-alpha," Bucky warns as Steve keeps thrusting inside him, stroking him inside and out with his body, giving all of himself so he can watch his mate reach his peak.
"Are you close, Bucky? You want my knot?"
"Yes!"
Steve kisses the glistening lips of his omega and wraps a hand around his neglected little cock. He starts stroking him in a rhythm opposite to his thrusts, drinking all of Bucky's affronted cries and pleading moans that never fail to make Steve so hot.
"It's Steve," he confesses, wondering if Bucky will even hear him.
Bucky closes his eyes, grips his alpha impossibly tight inside of him and comes with a single, strangled cry.
"Steve!"
And this simple word feels as real as an omega version of the bonding mark, branding the skin right over Steve's fucked up heart.