VAL•💖✨

My Masterlist Requests are CLOSE for NOW: Prompt List Female. 20. I love games, anything related art, science & psychology! Living in the worlds of movies, TV shows & fantasy worlds. Fandoms :supernatural, Marvel,etc.;) 😍💖💕😘

[valsworldofcreativity]

My Masterlist

Silent Heart Break

LOVESTRUCK

Kissed By The Baddest Bidder {KBTBB}

Supernatural

Avengers

A/N :- This is 18+ blog. Not my writing. But the stuff I read & reblog.

A/N 2 :- I do NOT give anyone permission to post my work anywhere.

[holylulusworld]

Traitor (1)

Summary: You are in your hometown for a case. Dean loses your trust forever.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, betrayal, implied smut, implied unrequited feelings, hurt no comfort, mentions of bullying (past)

“This was a stupid idea.” Cursing yourself for following Dean’s idea to attend your high school reunion while working on a case, you glance at your phone again.

You are fuming. Dean left you on the dance floor half an hour ago. You feel like you're back at high school prom, when everyone was looking at you like you were an outsider, disturbing their perfect little world.

You huff. This is just great. Everyone is staring at you while you stand there, nervously clutching your phone.

“Not again,” you murmur to yourself. Instead of letting your former classmates get under your skin, you walk toward the restrooms to find Dean. All you want is to get out of here, eat cheap food on your way back to the motel, and get some sleep.

On your way to the restrooms, an odd noise catches your attention. It’s muffled, but you immediately fall back into hunter mode, listening closely for another grunt to come from the men’s restrooms. You get your demon knife out and silently push the door open.

No monster or gory scene could shock you more than what you see. Dean has your high school bully pinned to the wall, fucking her like there’s no tomorrow.

You choke out a sob. Not loud enough for anyone else but Dean to catch. He turns his head, only to see you staring at him and the woman who, once again, made your life miserable.

“Y/N, I can explain.” Dean’s voice cracks at seeing the hurt and, even worse, disappointment in your eyes. He knows right there, and then, your friendship is over. The hunter lost your trust, and there’s no coming back from this.

“Explain what, Dean?” You let out a bitter laugh. “That you couldn’t wait to fuck my bully after everything I told you she did to me? You know about my nightmares, and that I have trust issues because of her. Yet here we are.”

You turn to leave, hearing them part and fumbling with their clothes. Dean stumbles over his words, unable to tell you how sorry he is.

Sarah, on the other side, is quick to rub salt into your open wound. “Aw, did I steal another boyfriend from you, Y/N? Did you honestly believe you could come here and have a better prom like the last one?”

Dean watches you slowly turn around. Only he can see the suppressed anger in your eyes. Sarah is oblivious to the danger she’s in.

“Sarah, you shouldn’t…” He tries, but she already walks closer to poke her manicured finger into your chest. “He was all too eager to get with me. Another boyfriend stolen from you.”

“He’s not my boyfriend, but my colleague,” you hiss at her, but the tears still fall when she looks at you, a wicked grin on her crimson lips. “Dean only played my boyfriend for tonight. You won nothing.”

“Oh, my GOD! You are in love with your colleague and never told him. How pathetic!” She laughs loudly as you turn your head to look at Dean.

He looks like he got tortured in hell again. Dean lifts his hand, reaching out only to drop it when you avert your gaze and shake your head.

“You can have him for all I care. Go ahead, keep fucking him like the whore you are,” you say when you lift your head again to look at her. “That’s all you’ll ever be. A pathetic whore who tries to hurt people to make herself feel stronger, and more confident than she really is.

Sarah grins viciously, about to say something, but you reach your breaking point. You punch her right in the face, breaking her nose on the way. Sarah drops to the ground, making a scene like she always does when someone dares to fight back.

She cries and screams, tears and mascara running down her face. Her confidence and smirk long gone, Sarah stares up at you in disbelief. Your strength and speed were out of this world, and she can’t believe that the shy and nerdy girl from back then fought back this time.

“What are you without your expensive makeup, your fake lashes, fake breasts, fake nose, chin, and lips? Nothing on you is original, or even partially pretty. You are rotten through and through.” You scoff when she tries to call for Dean. “You are nothing but a pretty façade, hiding your rotten character and your dumbness.”

You crouch down to clean your hand on her flimsy dress as her husband, your former boyfriend, steps inside the room. Owen looks from his bleeding wife to Dean and back to you. He knows in an instant what happened but doesn’t say a word.

You don’t care any longer. Slowly getting up, you look at Owen. “She hasn’t changed since back then. Still a whore who cannot keep her hands from the men I love.”

“Y/N!” Dean finds his voice right when you brush past Owen to leave your bully and him to their relationship drama. “Wait! I didn’t mean to!”

“You. Didn’t. Mean. To!” You twirl around, glaring at Dean. “You knew how much she hurt me back then, and that I still feel self-conscious most of the time around strangers. Still, you broke my trust in you to get your dick wet.”

“It’s not like that,” he scrambles to explain, but you don’t want to hear the same excuse everyone else in your life had for choosing Sarah over you.

“Save it, Dean,” you say, looking him straight in the eyes. “I will call Sam and tell him to take over the case with you. I’m out.”

“Out?” Dean echoes. “What do you mean by out?” He already knows what it means but wants to hear you say it.

“I will drive to the bunker, pack, and leave. If I can’t trust you not to fuck the one person making my life living hell for years, I can’t trust you with my life,” you say, holding his gaze. “You can tell Sam why the person who took a bullet for you without thinking twice left you for good. Maybe tell him I didn’t want to get stabbed in the back by you thrice!”

Dean visibly flinches, remembering how he stabbed you in the back while being a demon. And yet, you stayed with him through all the messes he created or got himself into.

The second time was today, when you believed you could finally tell him about your feelings.

“Y/N, please don’t go. We have been friends for so long,” Dean pleads, but this time, his soft eyes and desperation won’t make you forgive him.

This time, he wasn’t possessed, bewitched, or a demon. He made his decision, and now both of you must live with it.

“We were friends, Dean,” you say, your voice hard and your eyes cold. “Now you’re only a traitor who helped my bully bring my worst fears alive. We are done, for good this time.”

Part 2

[gaybybirth]

Fanfiction

Summary: Bucky asks to borrow your laptop and finds the smutty fanfiction that you’ve been writing on your anonymous Tumblr account.

Warnings: smut, secondhand embarrassment, fingering, metal arm kink

A/N: Thank you guys for being so nice to me today and sending me asks because I really like getting asks and they helped me feel better. I finished writing this at three in the morning because my anxiety is really bad because I’m waiting for my advisor to email me back about whether or not I can withdrawal my Physics class and I’m going really crazy waiting because I have a Physics test Thursday and welp. Anyway, that’s why you have this fic; I couldn’t sleep so I wrote this. Feedback is welcome and encouraged. If you want to be added to the tag list you have to send me an ask.

“Hey, (Y/N), can I borrow your laptop?” Bucky peered into your room, making sure you weren’t indecent first.

“Yeah, that’s fine.” You unplugged the MacBook from it’s charger and handed it to Bucky. “I’ll be down in the gym if you have any questions.”

“Thanks, doll.” His fingers brushed against yours as he took the metal computer from you. The mixture of his pet name and the tingling from his touch sent a need between your legs. “Mind if I just sit in here and use it?” 

“Not at all.” You headed out of your room and to the gym, ready to work out.

Keep reading

[gaybybirth]

Let Me Show You How It’s Done

Request: Could you do a fic where buck catches the reader masturbating and it makes him really jealous, so he shows her what real pleasure feels like??

Summary: Bucky catches you while you’re touching yourself, when he hears you moan his name he loses it. 

Warnings: smutty smutt + more smut

A/N: Don’t hesitate to message or send me an ask if you want to be added to the tag list!

Keep reading

[gaybybirth]

sixty-second favor

Vampire!Bucky Barnes x PR Manager fem!Reader (NSFW) - Bucky’s POV

Kinktober '25 Schedule // More Kinktober // Masterlist 2.0 // AO3

Synopsis: Bucky’s late for a campaign fundraiser when he faces the fact that he hadn’t rationed his synthetic blood out in case of any emergency. While he awaits Shuri’s shipment after an involuntary delay, he’s stuck staring at his empty fridge, starving, without any animal alternative available. He’s sworn off humans ever since he left Hydra, but when you come in with the offer, he’s desperate. 

Warnings: Bucky’s POV // nsfw content, angst (bits of Bucky’s backstory; trauma stuff), light fluff; more plot than porn, some Hydra stuff mentioned, could be canon but -> it's vampire-esque stuff in the super soldier serum, story takes place after brave new world but before thunderbolts*, Bucky’s running for Congress still, boss!bucky x employee!reader, blood, vampire bites are an aphrodisiac, bucky gets his hair pulled a lot (and likes it), Bucky tries to fight it but he’s starving, some self-hating/self-deprecating comments, sexual tension, thigh bites, oral (reader receiving), unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, bucky cums on the reader, guilt & anxiety, aftercare

Word Count: 6.5k 

A/N: Based on a prompt left on the kinktober form! Here’s some fucked up vampire!bucky if you actually think about his backstory with it. It’s also very very tame in regards to the nsfw stuff–this is more plot than porn. 

There's a side effect of the serum. The base used–the enhanced being it was taken from in the frozen tundra before the body turned to ash–remained more intact than anticipated with the experimentations. When injected into the soldiers, the enhanced abilities were passed along with great success. However, the side effects of inhuman necessity were as well. 

One survived.

His new feeding habits will require a specific dietary change. 

The soldier is a success. A little spilled blood is acceptable. The project will continue. The soldier will be trained.

Hail Hydra. 

It was under control now. Bucky’d had it under control for years. 

Even before his time in Wakanda, he’d forced himself to switch to animal blood. He’d waited until that hunger struck such a depth that he thought he’d fall into ash, and only then did he throw himself into the woods to do what was necessary. Animal blood was suitable.

In Wakanda, Shuri helped him with synthetic blood. It was an easier switch, but still. There was an aftertaste with it. Or maybe there was a missing taste? It didn’t matter. Drinking the synthetic blood meant no person and no animal was getting hurt because of him.

The last nail in his rather thematic coffin, except it didn't sink him six feet under. He'd died decades ago, even before Hydra pumped him full of the goddamn serum. It was the line for him–monster and…whatever he was now. Someone trying to do good again. Something? Was that being too cruel, or was it just the truth?

Well, he’d managed it. Standing in his campaign office, the projections of his potential win were so outstanding that it felt wrong that he had such a landslide as even a possibility. Guess his story reached enough ears? Touched enough hearts that still beat?

He brushed his fingers over one of those ridiculous buttons with his face plastered on it. For all intents and purposes, it was comical. Hydra’s fuck up in turning him into this monster, and of all the side effects he hadn’t gotten from the serum, he was still visible on camera. Guess they’d tweaked it just enough in the opposite direction that it’d vanished. Unlike him.

Though it would've made it a hell of a lot harder to give televised speeches and make non-drawn campaign posters. And he could still go out in the sunlight most times. So. The bright side of it.

There was a balance he had to keep. Not falling too far onto forcing acceptance and moving on when he was still stuck in the past and not letting it wrap around him like electric webbing to trap him. How exactly one went from vampyric assassin to totally normal congressman was still a mystery to him, but, hey, he was projected to win. 

He took a deep breath that he somehow still managed to breathe. 

Three-quarters vampire. Wasn’t quite immortal, but he was still stuck with that bloodthirst. What a shitty trade-off. 

The worst part was….

He glanced over at the locked mini fridge nestled away between his filing cabinets. He knew what was inside. Or, really, what wasn’t. Every month, Shuri had a new shipment of synthetic blood sent over for him. He’d gotten ready to grovel after the upset with all the Zemo bullshit, and Shuri accepted it. Openly. Only telling him after the fact that keeping the synthetic blood from him out of retribution and punishment was so far off the table, she was offended he’d even thought it was a possibility. 

“Really, you wound me, Barnes.”

But he’d had to be sure. 

Except this month’s shipment was late. No fault but the hold up in customs. For whatever reason, it was flagged this time around, and Bucky was…. He was good at rationing. He’d gotten really fucking good at it before with animal blood when he was on his own after SHIELD fell. He could ration. He could survive.

But it’d been two weeks of rationing when he hadn’t had to ration in years. 

He didn’t have any bottles left. Not in the office. Not at home. There was a butcher he could go to tomorrow if none came in by the afternoon, but–fuck. It was getting hard to focus. He was about to stroll into a full ballroom with no less than a hundred people, and all that Winter Soldier training of keeping his focus away from beating hearts was helpful, but goddamn it. It was as inhuman to tune into every hard heartbeat as it was human to melt at a nice smile and a sweet compliment. 

No fingers were going to snap–no code words would turn him toward the neck of a Hydra enemy. He had so much control now, it was in the palm of his hand like a physical controller. But that didn’t stop how overwhelming it got. Especially when he was starving.

He tapped the edge of his desk.

He was fucking famished.

Thump.

His brows pinched.

Thump. Thump. 

“Damn it,” he breathed.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Both hands found that sturdy edge of thick oak, and he took another deep breath. The thumping was steady yet quick. It nestled right in his ear like a new friend getting comfy, but it was always there. Always a spot for it, no matter how hard he tried to shove it aside. 

Thump thump. Thump thump. Thump thump. 

Bucky’s knuckles went white, and he had to clench his jaw. Thump thump. Thump thump. Thump thump. Thump thump. A quiet knock broke through the all-encompassing sound. The last second he had to hunch over like that in agony. He gave himself one more second to stew. The rhythmic heartbeat was strangling all of him except that hunger, but he pushed it back. Slammed a lid on it, locked it tight, and got himself to straighten. 

"Yeah?" he called. He stuffed one shaking hand into his pocket, and the other went through his hair. 

Thump thump. His door creaked open. With a glance over his shoulder, you peeked in with a smile. Thump thump. Thump, thump, thump, thump. You did a little glance over him. Quick enough, but it was your job to make sure he was presentable anyway. Nothing would've been amiss if he were normal. The quickening of your pulse echoing in his ears wasn't anyone's fault but his. 

You did a cursory look over at the fridge you both knew was empty. You helped handle getting the replacement bottles in, and it wasn’t like his condition was a secret. It’d been a major talking point in his campaign, after all. But you knew–the way your face became a wince. You knew.

But Bucky wasn’t following your eyes when you looked that way. 

You were pretty. It was one of the first thoughts he'd had when you'd walked into his office the first time around. Beyond every impressive qualification you had on your resume, and the fact that you were risking throwing away better opportunities to help him. You were brilliant, empathetic in a way that never crossed into pity, and pretty. The kind of pretty that he would’ve broken the bank trying to win you over seventy years ago. Not that he’d had all that much in the bank back then, but hey. He would’ve tried.

Listening to your heart settle from the nerves during the interview was one thing. But every subsequent racing after the fact, especially on nights like this, it was hard to differentiate which part of him he was reigning in. The vampire or the human. 

He knew which part was squashing it down. Which part screamed how wrong it was every second he happened to even get near the abyss that could be you. Not that you knew. Not that any of it was your fault. You were there to do your job, and you did it well. With an extra side of friendship Bucky was grateful for to the moon and back. 

There was so much riding on not fucking this up, he was digging his claws into it until it bled.

Metaphorically. He needed a new way to describe it. Thinking about you and blood was a detrimental issue.

One wrapped up in a tight, dark green cocktail dress. It walked the line for the fundraiser, but you could pull it off. “Pull it off” was also a poor choice of words. You just…. You looked so beautiful. And even after so many years mixed into the modern world, the amount of skin that was shown was still a little…. Fuck, he felt old. 

“Are you going to be okay for the night?” you asked, jerking Bucky back to reality. 

He yanked his eyes up from the heels that made your legs look incredible. He was barely still capable of feeling that rush of warmth across his cheeks, but it was enough. He cleared his throat and pushed his hand through his hair again. Looking over at that empty fridge gave him the cold rush he needed. 

Thump thump. Thump thump. Thump thump.

He had to ride in a car with you. It was a fifteen-minute ride in the back of the car, and when he took up most of it with just the spread of his shoulders, it…. Fuck. He scrunched his nose and pinched away the building pressure.

Thump, thump, thump, thump.

“I can go run by Donny’s and see if he’s there late. If he’s got any pig blood or–”

“I already called,” Bucky said with a soft groan. “He’s got nothing.”

Thump, thump, thump, thump. Faster. Your heart beat just a hair faster.

“Well, New York has a lot of butchers. We still have half an hour. I can call around?”

The look he gave you answered that well enough. He had. He'd spent the whole time he was getting ready calling around. Some had blood, but they weren't interested in sharing. Others weren't picking up the phone, too busy, or already closed. He should've collected more when he was rationing out the synthetic blood, but he'd been hopeful enough to think the shipment would've come in already. He hadn't wanted to risk going back to animal blood since he'd only ever used it to cook, and that was his line. Emergencies or cooking. 

Guess he should’ve anticipated this. 

He should’ve anticipated it.

“Shit.” Thump, thump. You weren’t panicking. Bucky could give you that. Your heart rate stayed the same. Quick, but stagnant. “If tonight’s going to be too overwhelming, I have a dozen excuses I can use to cover for you.”

He smiled. He shouldn’t have, but that wasn’t part of your job. Not like that. Covering for him in a PR nightmare, sure. But helping him get out of an obligation because of his own fuck up wasn’t. 

“It’s fine.”

Two words he had to say. It would be fine. He'd tear himself out of that ballroom the second something became too much. It'd probably lack some nuisance, but he knew where every camera was in there, knew the corners they didn't get, the ones that captured audio, and the ones that didn't. Had every exit memorized, every security guard's post. He'd be fine.

He’d been hungrier. Hydra had kept him hungrier.

Thump, thump, thump, thump, thump.

His head started to hurt. That was fast. The low headache of the equivalent of low blood sugar. The tiredness seeping in. Bucky shook his head and cleared his throat as if that’d do something successful. Hungry. He was hungry. But he couldn’t focus on that. No. No. He had a fundraiser to get to, and with his projected win, he had to make a damn good appearance.

“Are you sure there’s nothing else I can do?” you tried.

Valiantly, you tried. It wasn’t pity that you looked at him with, and that just made it worse. Bucky turned and gave your concern a small smile. He had to be fine. He would be fine. He'd get through the agonizing night, and then he'd get the animal blood from Donny's. After that, the shipment would come in, and he'd be settled. He wouldn't be able to feast, but the ache in his stomach and the throbbing in his head would shut the hell up.

“I’m–”

Bucky stalked toward his door to do what needed to be done. Leave. Get in that small car with you, suffer through the ride, then get through the night. Simple in words, and simple enough in forced control. He’d do it. He’d manage.

But in his approach, it hit him back-to-back. First, you in that goddamn green dress. Then, the smell of you. The subtle perfume on top before there was you underneath. The you he'd gotten when you'd fallen asleep with your head on his shoulder more than a few times during car and plane rides. When someone almost walked into you–or who nearly rode their bike into you–while you were knee-deep in Bucky's itinerary, and he had to pull you out of the way. When you stood next to him at his desk, leaning in to go over every point of his next speech, every edit, every tip.

Thump, thump, thump, thump, thump, thump, thump. In absurdly quick succession. Right in his ear. Right in his stomach.

The beat of your heart not just reaching into the pounding in his head and grasping it in a chokehold, but he could feel it. Every beat. Every drop. The rush of blood through every vein. It was like a needle he couldn't block and somehow snuck through the vibranium and pierced him like molten metal. A visceral, almost-familiar craving, not as far into the depths of primal hunger Hydra had kept him at. Steps above. Enough above that he clamped down over the animalistic vein going right to his undead heart, but still far enough down that it hurt.

That goddamn hunger.

Bucky’s knees buckled. 

He tried to lock them. He tried to reach out for the door to catch himself. He tried to do a few things in that moment that proved horribly unsuccessful. Shit. One word. One word bounced in his head as the singular coherent thought that marked the very edge of his sanity. Because his knees buckled.

And when his knees buckled, he fell. He collapsed forward in more than just a stumble, and he stumbled not into the wall, not over onto the floor. No, he went forward. Into the warm support of your hands on his chest. Into the small grunt of your bodies colliding and your half stumble back. Into the drape of his right arm around your shoulders, and his left slamming hard enough into the doorframe to dent it.

Bucky fell into you.

Right with his face near your neck. 

The only miracle was that he wasn't next to your jugular, but the fact of the matter was that it didn't matter. You caught him. You held all you could of him, and he got the rest with his arm on the doorframe. You were there. In his bubble. Warm and soft, panting as an added bonus to the burst in your pulse.

Right in his ear. You right on every breath.

You….

“Bucky, you’re starving,” you murmured. 

He barely heard it. He had the control. He did. He grabbed onto it with a goddamn vice grip, but he couldn’t move when he did that. You were a crutch he couldn’t tell was hindering or helping. But he needed to just…breathe for a little bit. Staying like that…. He had to pry himself off, but he couldn’t yet. He had to get everything in order. Had to get everything right. 

“I’ll….” He felt the sharp pierce of his fangs on his tongue for half of a second. “I’ll be fine. I just need a second. Sorry. I’m….” His hand splayed flat between your shoulder blades. The dress was held up by thin straps with a low enough back that it was just you. Nothing blocked between you and his hand. He felt every twitch, every breath, every shift. “I’m sorry.”

Thump.

Bucky closed his eyes. 

It was just you in his ears. Thump. Thump. Thump. Endlessly. Faster. Much faster. You shifted again, and an arm went around his midsection. Hooked as best as you could get it, and it felt good. Another part of him was touched as physically as he was, and his eyes clamped shut. 

The campaign had been all handshakes. But hugs? He held you a little tighter.

The last hug he’d gotten was from Sam, and that already felt like an eternity ago.

“You can’t go to the fundraiser like this, Buck,” you muttered. 

You’d switched up from Mr. Barnes the first time you called him that and he’d physically recoiled. So he was Sergeant Barnes before his early PR stuff, Future Congressman Barnes when you were congratulating him with a cheeky smile he tried not to like, and all other times Bucky. Buck was the exception when it was just the two of you. It could be talking about the campaign, or the list of movies and music you kept updating for him to get through, pointing at each title with a wider and wider smile while you described each one. The smile that made that broken heart beat harder and harder when he said he’d watched something you’d recommended. 

There was the one time you’d called him James. He’d shown you his old ID he’d managed to track down. You’d held it up to the light and gave it a wry smile.

“Yeah, I see where the ladies' man rumors got started, James.” You’d handed it back with a wink. 

You were simultaneously a lifesaver and the bane of his existence. His campaign would've been nothing without you. 

And there you were holding him up in his office, keeping him from collapsing into a heap of pathetic hunger.

He should’ve planned better. He should’ve.

You shifted in his arms again. The sound of your dress against his shirt was like a syncopated hum that breached past sound and became a weird vibration in his chest. Hyperaware of it in ways that made sense and no sense at all.

“I’m going to text Marcy and tell her Sam called you away for some emergency reconnaissance. Alright?” Your fingers curled around his shirt. Being nestled underneath his suit jacket just made it worse. So much worse. You were so warm and soft. 

“I won’t ask Sam to lie for me, and I’ll…I’ll have to for that,” he managed to push out. He wasn’t going to put this on Sam. He’d go. He’d get through it. He just needed…. “I just need another second. I….”

Fuck, you smelled good.

Your throat bobbed. You shifted again, pulling a little more on his shirt.

"Listen," you said hesitantly. The kind of hesitancy that came with an edge in your voice that brought Bucky right back to the edge of reality. The kind that made his heart beat like yours. Something was off. “I….” Your pulse ticked faster. The strength Bucky was getting back in his knees started to waver. “I know you stick with synthetic, but it’s been two weeks. If…. If you need to….”

His desk. 

The doorframe splintered under the force Bucky used to push himself away from you. He went staggering back in one blink, the rush of whatever was thumping in his head either you or him, he couldn't tell. But he collapsed against his desk, his vibranium hand seconds away from breaking the edge while he stared at your wide-eyed look.

“I didn’t mean to–”

“I know,” he breathed. His right hand raised, and he saw how it shook. “I appreciate the offer, but I can’t.” He forced out every word. His brows pinched so hard that it was beginning to hurt. The idea of feeding off of you was off the table. Even just a little bite. A little taste. A little bit of you on his tongue…. 

His weight shifted. The edge of the desk obliterated in his hand. He slammed his further back, angling him with a tension along his spine, and he kept his other hand up between you.

Fuck, he was so hungry.

His stomach rumbled loudly. He could feel it–the paling, the cold, the slow twist of nothing in his stomach. 

He needed to feed.

He needed a taste.

He wouldn’t hurt you. He wouldn’t do it. He wouldn’t. 

Would he make it until morning?

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Bucky breathed, leveling a look at you that must’ve…. The way your heart skipped was something. His vision was blurring into a tunnel. Come on. He clenched his jaw to steady himself, but it didn’t do much. His focus fell to you in that blinding hunger. “I haven’t…. I told myself I wouldn’t from a person after I got out.”

“I know.” 

A soft answer, but a direct one. You didn’t flinch back, only tugged your dress down and gave him a patiently concerned look he didn’t deserve.

“But to be frank, you look like shit, and I don’t think you’ll make it out to any wilderness like this to go after any animal by yourself,” you said, taking a very small step forward. 

Bucky couldn’t see the office anymore. He heard the click of the door shutting behind you, and that was it. It closed off everything into a blurry shadow except you. Just you, walking toward him, small step by small step, telling him you’d stop at the first resistance. Resistance Bucky should’ve had. Resistance he was trying to have. But as you grew closer, it was just a tightening of that tunnel around you. An imperfect circle that became just the outline of you.

You stopped just out of arm’s reach.

“I trust you, Buck.” You didn’t move. Didn’t flinch. Didn’t do anything but look at him with sincere concern he didn’t deserve. “So if you need to, I’m offering. If it’ll help you get to morning, and then we’ll have a delivery from Donny’s in as quick as possible, and we’ll never talk about it again.”

He shouldn’t. Bucky felt the cold sweat taking over. He shouldn’t. He drew his eyes from your heels all the way up every curve until he settled on your jugular. The thumping of your racing pulse was faster, faster, faster, faster the longer he stared. Your chest heaved, and the nerves were hidden so well, but there. The same way during your initial interview.

He was…so hungry.

What were his options? Suffer until morning and see what kind of consequence awaited him? If he went any longer while this hungry, he was tipping back toward how Hydra…. How they’d…. Donny’s delivery wouldn’t come in until the late morning or early afternoon, and who knew when Shuri’s shipment would get back to him.

If he waited, it’d be worse.

He was still coherent, just focused.

It was his only option.

The dread was a thump of his heart. 

It was his only option.

With a hand weighing a thousand pounds, he reached up and pulled at his tie. You were his only option.

“Take off your dress,” he muttered. Your heart skipped more than one beat. He tossed his tie over his desk. “There’s no clean way. It’s…. You look really pretty. I don’t want to ruin your dress.”

You nodded after a long moment. The process of his agreement came with a lingering nod, and then you were reaching back for the zipper.

“Will it hurt?” you asked. The dark green went loose around you. 

Bucky shrugged his coat off and worked down the buttons of his shirt.

He nodded once. “For a second.” His blood rushed horribly through varying parts of him, worsening his hunger. “But then it’ll feel good.”

Possibly really good. But you were just a snack. This was a favor. You worked for him first and foremost.

This was just a small favor. Bucky wasn’t going to linger. Sixty seconds. He’d drink from you for sixty seconds at most. 

He pulled his undershirt off. Green became a puddle at your feet where your heels were slipped off. Processing his words came with another stutter of your heart, and Bucky almost lost it. It was ironic that there was a crave to turn off the human parts of him only out of sheer desperation to not notice that. Yes, he needed it to ground him, but unbuckling his belt while looking up at you in your strapless black bra and matching underwear was almost enough of a distraction that he’d forgotten his hunger.

Just for a second. 

Then you hesitated with a look down at yourself, the clear question unasked, but Bucky just undid his belt, kicked his shoes off, and stopped at his underwear. Getting a little messy under the clothes was doable. Odds were, you weren’t going to go to the fundraiser, but he’d have to. So he just had to stay relatively clean.

But he still….

Your chest heaved as he straightened, eyes shifting over you from head down to your feet just once more. Nearly naked, shaking a little, pulse through the roof. But Bucky had to bite you somewhere inconspicuous. He still couldn’t fully grasp it–the careful step toward you that took almost every ounce of his control to keep his head steady while softly giving you his hand to take. He wasn’t a monster. He wasn’t going to hurt you. 

He had to bite you somewhere nobody would see. So, your neck, wrist, and collarbones were out of the question. The green dress was how you normally dressed for functions like that, so anywhere on your back was a no-go, too. So he just had your stomach, but with the waistbands of your skirts and pants, that felt cruel to bite anywhere there. You wore low-cut blouses sometimes, so anywhere lower than your collarbone was also marked off.

So. 

Hips would be awkward with your underwear. 

Your hand closed gently in his.

Well.

Bucky walked you back toward where the cheap rug no longer covered the basic white tiling. It’d be easier to clean up. Colder and more uncomfortable for you to lay on, but….

He found the strength in his knees to walk. To guide you back to that tile you already flinched at when your feet touched it. It’d warm quickly. Though, since Bucky ran cold, it was possible the way you were already shivering might never end.

Still, he helped you down onto your back. 

“I….” He squatted in front of you, eyes dropping to your thighs. His heart skipped. His hunger raged. “I need to do it where nobody will see–”

“I know,” you said quickly. “Buck, I handle any and all scandals. I know.”

Your legs parted. You made as much room for him as you could. 

He needed to give you a hearty raise. 

His stomach clenched in agonizing anticipation. Sixty seconds. He hadn’t fed from a human in so fucking long. Sixty seconds. He wasn’t going to overdo it. He wasn’t going to hurt you. He wasn’t going to fuck this favor up.

Sixty. Fucking. Seconds.

He pressed his left hand underneath your knee and lifted your leg back. Staring up over you was a mistake. Driven by hunger made for a lot of different cravings. Seeing you drop back to your elbows with such a nervous disposition in what he’d describe as black lingerie was…. And the fact that you were letting him take a literal bite out of you? Bucky hooked your leg over his shoulder, skin to skin, feeling your heel press into his shoulder.

“Sixty seconds,” he said, your thigh next to his cheek.

It quivered. You quivered. He didn’t let his eyes drop to where they wanted to. Where your legs were parted for him to practically look at like a welcoming guide. 

You chewed your bottom lip, but held a determined expression.

You nodded.

Bucky returned it.

Sixty seconds.

He pushed into your leg and dropped his mouth right to your inner thigh. His other arm went over your other hip to support himself. The warm touch of your thigh to his mouth was a match against the side of the box. The hitch of your breath at the inadvertent kiss was the initial drag. Parting his lips and pressing his fangs against the tender skin was the flick of the match. The pressure sparked it. The piercing of your breaking skin was the start, and the rush of your blood across his tongue was the bursting flame.

Sixty…seconds….

You gasped.

Blood dripped out of the puncture wound, and at the first decadent taste of you, Bucky's grip tightened, and he buried his face into you. Your elbows buckled in a second. One brief flash of pain, and then you were on your arching back, digging your heel into him, writhing. 

Delicious.

Starving made anything taste good, but you were something else. You were the chocolate cake his parents scrounged up enough money to make sure he had for his sixteenth birthday. The first beer he’d had. The shitty food he and Steve shared at Coney Island. 

You. You. 

“Bucky,” you whined.

You. You. You! Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. He felt your heartbeat in his mouth. On his tongue. Blood dripped down onto the tile and smeared across your thigh. It went up over to your hip as he readjusted his position and licked higher, licked over the wound that made your whole body shudder. As he shifted back and lifted both legs over his shoulders, he dove in harder. He lifted your hips from the ground a little, angling you back, lapping up at the wound as blood smeared across you.

Sixt..y…. Se..c..o..n..ds….

It exacerbated his hunger for a brief second. A torturous reminder of who he once was, of what this represented years ago. Decades ago. What the taste of human on his tongue meant– 

He pulled off, panting. The brief flash of blood was every faraway memory that wasn't as far away as he'd thought. It was every death on his hands. Every day he’d been kept hungry. Every order…. 

“Buck.”

Warm fingertips. 

He looked up and there you were, on one elbow, hand under his chin, pupils blown from the effects of the bite, and yet there. A gentle cupping of his cheek and a brush of your thumb moving a bit of fallen hair out of his eyes. 

You twitched in his hands. Your hips shifted. Your heart was pumped full of adrenaline.

“You can take more,” you breathed. “You haven’t hurt me. I’m fine.” Your eyes drift from his. They went up along the side of his face and into his messy hair. Right where your fingers pushed through and–oh. Bucky’s eyes shut at your grip. “You can…. You can take more. Take more.”

Had it been sixty seconds? He shifted, pushing your legs back more. More, more. At the pull of his hair in your fist, he was falling. Not into Hydra, no, your hold seemed to keep him at the limits. Grounding him, he pinned your knees back, the trembling in your thighs a sudden draw of focus that he lost himself for another moment.

That wasn’t blood dampening your underwear.

Just a few more seconds.

Bucky lowered himself down to your other thigh, closer. Higher. The hair you didn’t hold draped over your underwear.

Your eyes were half-lidded when your gazes locked. 

Bucky nipped at the tender skin along the inside of your thigh until he settled right where he wanted to be. And with a small nod of your head….

He bit.

Your gasp cracked through the silence, and Bucky fell.

It wasn’t out of consciousness. He was still present. With every drag of his tongue, every lick of the wound, every lean with the pull on his hair, Bucky didn’t give up the reins. There was no monster trying to crawl out. He’d handled that part of him. He had a grasp on the Winter Soldier, and he’d never come out. Not like this. Not to hurt anyone, especially not you.

So he was still conscious when that thread snapped. 

He knew it was a mistake you’d both face in the morning. Feeding had the same effect as being fed from, and he saw the same reaction in you that he felt in him. His sixty seconds and then some were up. You still kept him there, just a little longer, just a little more, just a few more drops to satiate that hunger.

That hunger that grew.

That hunger that bred.

He knew you two had the exact same thought when you pulled on his hair and whined his name. When you glanced down with an empathy that wasn’t just for him, but he matched it. Felt it as you pulled his hair harder. Pulling him toward you. Pulling him–

He should’ve broken it off. He had the practice, though it felt fucked up to call it that. But he did have it. He knew better. He knew. 

And Bucky still….

Your bra and underwear were somewhere. His was with them. Blood was in places more than some wet wipes would help with. And it wasn't red lipstick smeared over your mouths, cheeks, and down over your throats. Everywhere. You were sticky messes that almost cracked the tile floor.

It didn’t mean nothing. It could’ve. But Bucky wasn’t flippant about this, and he wasn’t flippant about you. This wasn’t nothing. Not a single second of it was.

He cupped your cheek as your back arched and you wrapped your arms around his neck. Your heels dug into him harder and harder with every thrust. The wet squelching was just your bodies coming together aimlessly. 

Bucky hadn’t been with someone in so long. It…. Just the hug earlier. Then this? This. He tasted you on his tongue while he brushed off the urge to bite your neck. But it wasn’t blood. He’d tested the waters with a kiss–a searing, melting kiss that only brought him back down your stomach, between your bitten thighs, and old habits came back in a blink.

Peeling your underwear off and diving his tongue into you fed a whole different hunger.

When your hips lifted and you yanked hard enough on his hair to actually hurt while you came….

Again. Bucky rutted into you, savoring every wet, warm, clenching faded memories coming rushing back into a new. You. It wasn't about the old, left in the sands of time. But he hadn't had it, and then there was you. For some reason, there was you. You were too much. You were too damn good at the job. You were too nice of a friend even when you did work for him. You were too good.

And there you were fluttering around his cock and throwing your head back while sputtering out his name again.

Climaxing.

Again.

For him.

Because of him.

Well.

The tile cracked as Bucky slammed his left fist down. Splintering into dozens of pieces, his orgasm rushed at him without forgiveness. It tore from one consciousness into the other, and he kicked at the hard ground, aching for a bed under you–you deserved a bed or a couch or something beyond this, at least–and that was it. His limit. His eyes-rolling-back, thigh-tensing, milking-thrusts limit.

Bucky hung his head in the crook of your neck and kissed you.

He barely got his cock out as he came, pumping his shaft and looking down as you did. Both watching as he came over you. Lower than your belly, but certainly not on the floor. Hot cum spilling out over your cunt, dripping down onto the mess gathering on the floor. 

“Fuck,” he grunted.

Fuck.

He collapsed back onto his feet, not meaning to pull away from you like that, but it was so much. Watching you push up to your elbows again, as fucked out as he was. Cunt…covered. Glistening. 

Bucky wiped a bloodied hand over his face, and you brushed the back of your hand over your mouth. 

Clean. His hunger wasn’t completely eradicated, but he was back to his wits. Fuck. There was a first aid kit in one of the cabinets. And some wet wipes, too. Then towels to clean up. And…and…. Bucky pulled his underwear on and managed to find strength in his legs to get around his office. You weren't bleeding excessively, and he really hadn't drank that much from you, so you were okay. You'd be okay. But you'd both….

He reached into his gym bag tucked away in the closet and grabbed out his towel. Full-sized. He draped it over you like a blanket, giving him one last fleeting glimpse of the handprints smeared over your breasts, sides, and down to your hips. It was all a blur, but in the best possible way. A montage of you. Of pleasure. Of want.

Bucky knelt down with the kit and started at your thighs, first.

Water! You needed water, too. 

He bandaged one thigh before opening up his mini fridge. Underneath the empty shelves, he had water. He opened it for you, and you took it with a crooked smile and a shaky hand.

“Bucky,” you breathed.

He patched up your other bite wound. Cleaned up around each. Cleaned up higher, working through autopilot to make up for this. To clean you up from him–

“James.”

He held a wet paper towel in his hands, just about to clean you up between your legs. Your soft smile was waiting for him with patience. With a tiredness in your eyes that wasn’t just from blood loss. 

“There’s no scandal here,” you said carefully. “If that’s what you’re freaking out about.” 

Your pulse was steady. It only took a short listen to know it. It was steady. It was strong. And you sat up with only a soft wince to cup his cheek. Bucky dropped the paper towel.

“I promise.” 

Goddamn it.

Bucky couldn’t help the little lean into your palm.

You tasted so good. You felt so good.

You were so good.

How you wound up working for him, entangled with him…. He was trying to do good. He would do good. But it still didn’t feel worthy enough for you yet. 

You smiled. Fuck. He felt the small smile tug at him, too.

You–

A shrill ringing cut through the silence.

It rammed into him hard, but he wasn’t the only one who winced. You did, too, at first. Then came the wide eyes and the panicky pulse.

“Shit. Shit!” You put both hands over your face. “The fundraiser.”

Sixty seconds.

Bucky reached back for a new paper towel. 

He was devastatingly late and staring down at his blood-covered self and the broken tile on the mess of the floor.

Late and at risk of completely screwing his campaign. 

Fuck.

He needed to get that shipment in from Shuri ASAP. This couldn’t happen again. It wouldn’t. It wouldn’t. 

He promised then and there. 

It wouldn’t.

He just had to abide by it. He had to.

[ransoms-kitten]

the chief's mate.

Summary: your newly wed husband orc Bucky has to leave for war immediately,his best friend and the chief of the clan steve offers to take care of you in the mean time.

Warning: (poly relationship?) cheating? Kinda. It's complicated.Smut. Smut . Orc stucky is a warning. MINORS DNI. 18+ .

"but Bucky you can't leave me here...alone i don't know anybody here except you" you plead with your orc husband. It was true you were very new to this clan, and you were not an orc so you had no idea on what to do here and you were pregnant above all.

"I have to go my little witch, for my clan, for my chief steven,for my loyalties lie with him, understand me please" he pressed a kiss to my forhead.

"but..."

"he will take care of you in the meantime, anything you want he will do that for you and our unborn child.." that were his last words as he left for war.

anything you want.... those words lingered in your mind, what did he mean by that . Surely not 'anything ' ,you understand they were best friends and shared everything but not...no way it's not possible y/n ,stop with your fantasies.

Although the chief orc ,the blonde man was making it hard for you to think of anything else.

With the way he would unexpectedly show up to your cottage, asking you if you were doing well, checking on you, resting his hand on your growing belly,kissing it. Last night he even offered to massage your shoulders as you told him youw were feeling very tense.

He didn't do a good job of keeping his hands to himself either, always lingering around you, always brushing past you. Even now as he was talking to one of the maidens sharon ,his left hand stayed around your waist, he was explaining her on how he wanted the feast tonight,it was the feast before the orc mating season, of course it had to be huge .

You just stood there breath heaving, you could feel sharon glaring daggers at you, it was very clear the she wanted the chief, but he always seemed to ignore her , choosing to focus on you instead.

"and that is all sharon you may go " says steve.

"oh alright and what about y/n..." she asked accusingly.

Steve glared at her ,"what about her?" He gritted through his teeth.

"well, uh what will she be contributing to the feast, it's not like her husband is here to hunt and bring meat for the ceremony,nor does she grow any crops ,neither can she cook soo what exactly is she doing-"

"shut up you will not talk of my best man Bucky or his mate that way, Bucky has done so much for this clan and as his wife she can just stay her and enjoy everything, don't ever talk about her like that." Steve said sternly.

"oh im sorry chief steven i" sharon started say.

"apologize to her" said steve

"I'm sorry y/n" she murmured a fake apology as she left .

"you shouldn't have said anything steve its fine.." you say to him, he pulls me closer ,hands going lower on your back till it reached your ass, he gripped it gently.

"what do you mean ,she will disrespect you and Bucky and i should tolerate that , never."

"hmm alright calm down chief" you place a hand on his chest. He moves your hand to his lips and kisses it. You blush at that, you know he's probably being chivalrous.

"i am calm my sweet witch, you're here aren't you, you keep me calm"

"hmm good to know . "Your eyes linger on his lips you knew it was wrong.

Later that night ,you were laying in your bed , unable to sleep, both from the absence of your husband and because your needs haven't been taken care of in a while.you were frustrated.

Just then steve enters your cottage "y/n...?" He calls for you.

"yes steve.."

"there you are sweets.." oh fuck why was he here now.

"what ...do you need something chief?"

"no I came here to check on you sweets, ...still have trouble sleeping?"

You nodded .

"i bet it's lonely for you without Bucky next to you."

"uhmm yes" you look anywhere but at him

"would you mind if I ...kept you company?" Steve asked .

"uhmm you mean..."

"I'll lay next to you, that way you can sleep peacefully."

Say no say no. "yes I guess that would be nice."

So steve got under the covers with you

Steve's arms hold you tight against his chest under the covers, his strong muscles enveloping your body in a comforting embrace. As he lies there in bed with you, his head starts to slowly lower, his nose gently nuzzling against your hair as he processes the situation"A baby... You and Bucky... you're going to have a child together... I just can't believe it. I just...I'm still trying to process the idea of it all..."

"hmn yes it is very exciting steve"

Steve's hands start to slowly wander over your body as he holds you against his chest, his body still pressed against yours under the covers. His hands are gentle and slow as they move over your body, slowly tracing over your arms, your back, and your sides in a comforting manner.

You couldn't help but moan at his touch, you hope steve didn't hear it .

As you let out a gentle moan, Steve's body goes taut again for a moment, his arms holding you against his chest as he absorbs the sound. His hands continue to gently wander over your body as he replies in a low grumble"Hmm? What was that dove?"

"uhh nothing" you tried to brush it off.

Steve lets out a grumbled huff at your response, still holding you against his muscular chest in a tight and protective embrace. There's a hint of teasing in his voice as he replies "You don't want my attention, hmmm? Then....why did you let out that sweet sound?"

"uhh don't be ridiculous, I don't want your attention..."

Steve's long fingers rub your clothed pussy, which was only covered by a thin layer of clothing. "Your pussy needs it , I'm sure ... she's been very lonely." your wetness grows and coats youre clothing, steve is very aware of the effect he has on you.

"no steve ...uhm we can't" you begin to protest, your words die down as steve kisses your neck, lips trialing down your spine.

"shh sweetheart,i know this is what you need, and this is what I promised Bucky , that I'd take care of your every need.."

"I'm sure he didn't mean "every " need..."

"oh yes, every need ...can't let my best friend's wife go unsatisfied now can i?" Steve's fingers travelled to your nub rubbing it skillfully, making you grind shamelessly. "That's it little dove let me take care of you...let me hear those sweet sounds." You couldn't help but moan, steve overstimulated you until you were on the edge, and just as you were about to come he removed his fingers, making you whine.

"tsk what was that little witch? You want more..?" He knew exactly how to play this.

"yes...yes I need to come please, " you begged patheticallly .

"then spread those pretty legs for me, I'll make you come" you did as he asked.

Steve's long orc tongue licked your pussy , making you wet before he started fucking you with it., it didn't take long before you came all over his face. "Fuck now that's what I want little witch," he said licking up every last drop. Of your release, he wasn't done yet he went back to his ministrations again.

"steve please...i can't , we can't - bcuky" it was like a post release Clarity for you knowing this is wrong.

"shh - I know this is what Bucky wouldve wanted , little witch, don't tell me what my best mate would want." He said continuing to abuse your poor pussy with his big tongue but not it felt good that's why you had a hard time explaining to hi.m this was was wrong.

"steve - uhhh ughh"

"shh just enjoy it little witch , I know you need this, and I need you, " he said making you come for the second time .

This time he gathered all your cum with his fingers, pulling down the loin that was covering his modesty, his cock was hard , not as thick as Bucky's but it was longer., he pumped it a few times , lubing it up with your release.

"not sure if you can take me little witch, I'm sure Bucky used your hole so good it's stretched enough but I have a couple more inches than him" how does he know that?

"steve -"

"tell me you want me - tell me you need my cock my sweet witch and I'll give it to you" he said already running his top over your pussy, making it flutter.

"yes please Steve need your cock" you say trying lift your hips to meet his, steve chuckled at your eagerness.

" be more specific, what part of you needs it ?"

"my pussy my pussy needs it," you say as you watched him pump himself once again

"this needy cunt needs my cock huh? Need your chief's cock because you're husband isn't home?" God why does he have to say it.

"yes yes please chief need your cock splitting me open"

"of course sweets I'll give you my cock, after all I'm the chief and need to take care of my clan, especially my best friend's pregnant mate, can't let her go unsatisfied can ?" Steve slowly fucks his length into you, you could tell he was patient and careful you can see it in his face.

"god you're so tight, didn't know witches we're this tight, you know I'm only used to orc cunts this is - fuck look at how you're gripping me" he said as he almost got all of him inside you.

You moan his name. "So good sweet girl, taking me like a good little mate." He encouraged you as you managed to take all of him, steve slowly began rocking in and out of you in a rhythm that was the most pleasurable to you, something you've never experienced your whole life.

"you look so pretty my little witch, so big and round ,growing Bucky's child, ...can't wait till you bear mine..." The sound of his cock pounding into you filled the room. Steve slipped his fingers on your clit, rubbing your nub skillfully making you cum, he didn't stop he fucked you through your orgasm, his veiny cock slamming deep into you.

" you're so good for me little witch, you came so fast, taking my cock like a good orc wife." You moaned at his words, it had been months since you've been touched like this, since bucky left, you needed this.

"fuck I'm gonna empty my seed inside of you little witch, is that alright?" You're suprised he's asking you this while he's so fucking deep in you.

"yes ,yes steven you may " he spilled his hot cum in you, filling you to the brim, he pulled out of your dripping cunt at once. He used his fingers to push the oozing cum back into your hole. "I'll always take care of you my little witch, both you and Bucky belong to me , don't you forget that." You nod.

You laid there in bliss as he cleaned you both up. Steve wrapped his arms around your stomach pressing kisses to it. " Don't worry little orcling, your father's going to be back home soon until then i will be here to take care of both of you." He whispered into your stomach.

[blackmarketfruitrollups]

A/n inspired by the winter storm currently trapping me in my home.

"I'm so cold." She moaned, miserable. "I can't even feel my toes."

He tossed a few more logs on the fire, then turned to where she was huddled on the couch. He pulled the wool blankets higher around her shoulders and leaned down to peck her on the forehead.

"Your nose is looking pretty cold, too." He observed.

She nodded sadly. "I guess I'm just going to freeze to death."

He chuckled, stroking her hair lovingly. "My silly little wife."

Turning towards the little table next to the couch, he picked up her mug of tea, pushing it carefully into her hands.

"I'm going to go get my mug." He hummed. "Then we can keep reading our book, how does that sound?"

She smiled up at him, significantly warmer as the fire grew, the light from it licking up the walls of their cozy cottage.

"You mean I can keep reading our book to you." She spoke into her mug.

He shrugged, guilty. "Is it a crime to enjoy hearing your voice?"

She flushed, then shooed him away playfully. "Hurry up and get your tea. Then we can cuddle while I read."

"Whatever my wife wants." He hummed, smiling.

"And would you grab me more socks on the way please?"

[thebunnyslibrary]

Spring Fever

Pairing: Orc!Bucky x Bunny Hybrid!Reader

Summary: If you go out in the woods for the first day of spring, be careful who you run into

Count: 4k

Warnings: Mosnterfucking, Dubcon, Bondage, Aphrodisiac/Potion use, Manipulation

an. Happy Spring y'all! It's been forever since I've posted but the DND brain rot got me inspired... I also have something for Loki I hope to post soon.💚 Thank you all for reading and reblogging 🌳🌸🏹

Being a princess was every little girl’s dream. But if they knew the heavier side, they might dream twice. Yes, there were parties and fancy foods and lots of pretty things, but then were days like today.

When you’d awoken in your chambers that morning, the sunlight streaming in your window made you smile. Winter was finally releasing its grasp and giving way to spring. Your bunny nature was twitching to enjoy nature and all its wonder’s, but instead you were stuck inside with another stuffy tutor, not paying attention to another stuffy lesson. You weren’t even sure what this lesson was supposed to be about, something regarding how to greet a visiting noble.

“Princess, are you with us?” your tutor had to snap you back to reality. Your head was always more in the clouds than in your books. Part of your hybrid nature, your mother said. And something that would pass once you wed, your father explained. Talk had already begun about whom you’d marry; talk with everyone but you, that was. You nodded at your instructor, but your attention was drawn back to the forest. You had to break free.

You’d managed to sneak away from your lessons, hoping to find some flowers to press in your journal. But now you were lost. It was your own fault; you’d been chasing after a beautiful deer, hoping to get a quick sketch of it. But you’d only gotten yourself lost and worse alone, having snuck away with no royal guard or anyone knowing where you were headed. You tried to think and remember, but everything looked the same to you.

“Well, hello there, little bunny.” A deep voice spooked you and you whirled around to see …him.

You’d never seen an orc before. And you certainly didn’t imagine they could be…so handsome. Tall and broad like a great mountain, his skin had an olive tinge to it. He wore leather trousers and only a leather vest on top; revealing a chest covered in tribal tattoos and a necklace of beads and bones dripping from his neck. Your eyes lingered on his left arm because when you saw it, you were astonished to see it was made entirely of iron, but moved as if flesh and blood.

“Poor little thing lost in the woods,” his voiced purred. He reached out to stroked one of your ears, something no one had ever done before. And when he did it shot a jolt of excitement to your core.

Long chestnut brown hair was pulled back into a bun, no braids or beads to be seen. Something you’d heard about their culture. His face was more human in nature, with a stubbled chiseled jaw. But with great tusks protruding from his bottom lip and a smaller set from his upper; you were reminded of his true heritage. A great silver ring through his nose gleamed in the light of the day. You shivered, but chalked it up to the early spring chill, cursing yourself for forgetting your cloak.

“You…saw the deer?” You asked, not understanding his meaning. He chuckled, his shoulders shaking.

“Adorable. Yes, little one, I saw the stag. My hunt for the day.” He leaned in close and you were surprised to find instead of the foul stench the maids always gossiped about, he smelled of leather, and the woods themselves, with something soft underneath. Lavender? Your nose twitched and you were surprised at how gently the orc’s metal arm cupped your cheek, cooing at you softly. You should be fighting back, but your thighs pressed together.

“But I’ve just found myself a much better prize. A little princess wandering through orc territory…during mating season.”

Before you could react, the great orc threw you over his shoulder. You were stunned into silence and you tried to squirm or punch at him to get him to let you go. That was until his iron hand smacked you soundly on your ass. You’d been hit once or twice as a child but the feel of the metal on your flesh gave you pause. “Behave, little rabbit. I’ve got no problem turning you into my stew for the night.” His voice was teasing, but you couldn’t help be scared there was truth in his mockery.

He marched for some ways, quietly except for the occasional whistling. You were worried to say anymore, the rumors of what you heard happened to girls kidnapped by orcs swirling in your mind. But the way he’d treated you confused you; he told you he’d planned to mate with you. And rather than scaring you…it actually excited you. Even thinking back to the smack on your ass had you squirming.

“Twitchy little bunny, aren’t you?” the orc spoke. And you squeaked, realizing he’d been paying attention to you.

“N-no.” you denied, softly. He merely chuckled in response. When he finally brought you into the encampment you were, very surprised. You’d always thought orcs were a brutal, loner race who slept in the dirt, or so your parents told you.

Instead, you saw tents made from great animal pelts that were dyed or painted beautiful colors and designs; Some were not much smaller than a cottage in your kingdom’s village. And you looked around as small children ran back and forth, laughing and playing. But you also saw as the deeper into camp you were brought in, the more people were staring at you.

Eventually, you were lifted off the orc’s shoulders and came face to …well, much taller face, with another orc who had blonde hair braided in a strand with the sides of his head shaved and a scruffy beard. He was standing outside a tent that seemed the size of two put together.

“Well Bucky, I see you’ve found a little toy.” The blonde orc spoke.

“A little rabbit lost in the woods. Thought I’d bring her home and make her comfortable.” The one you now knew as Bucky said.

“She is rather cute.” The blonde orc commented, eyeing you and you really wished you were wearing your cloak. Your dress was modest, but your corsets were leaving you feeling very exposed.

“You’ve got your own mate Steve.” Bucky said, giving him what looked like a friendly shove. “Where is Sam anyways?”

“Out hunting. Good thing too, since our other chieftain seems to get distracted. Though I can’t blame you.” The way Steve eyed you made you feel as if you were standing stark naked before him. But you realized, he was probably imagining it. “If you’re ever interested in sharing, let me know.”

Bucky looked at Steve, then you and winked. Steve headed off and Bucky dragged you into the tent. The first thing you noticed was the warmth. A small fire burned in a pit, but the pit had a metal grate and a chimney leading up and out of the tent, like an outdoor fireplace.

“Keeps the cinders from flying away. You’d be surprised what can be accomplished with some iron.” The mention of iron drew your eyes back to his arm. You realized it was rude to stare a moment too late and looked back to his face to see his bright blue eyes watching you.

“I uhm. I was. Just. Curious.” Your voice was soft and timid, scared to upset the man holding you captive. But he didn’t seem to wish you harm…yet. He sat down on a log near the fire and patted his leg; you walked over timidly before slowly climbing into his lap. You balanced yourself by placing your hands on his shoulders and had only just gotten settled…when you felt Bucky’s fingers playing with your tail. You let out a squeak, making Bucky growl in his chest.

“Mmm, a curious little rabbit I’ve found, have I?” he mused. “I was born of a wood elf mother and an Orc Father. When I was younger, I saved our tribe from starvation one winter when I killed a great buck with only a stone knife. But I lost an arm. My mother, went to lord Stark of the Fae to plead for healing. When he learned how I lost the arm saving the tribe, he granted me this mechanical magic. I was given two names that day.” He spoke in orcish and explained it meant “The Winter Soldier. But everyone just calls me Bucky. Now I am an orc chieftain and you little rabbit, shall call me husband.”

His story tugged your heart strings. He had gone to great lengths to protect what was his. Far braver than your father, a king who barked orders at knights instead of doing things himself.

“You should be honored, little rabbit.” Bucky used is other hand to stroke one of your ears. “A princess like yourself, who wandered onto my lands, be thankful that a great chieftain like myself has chosen you. Rather than some sniveling, third cousin your human parents would’ve chosen for you.”

An orc's bride? You’d been told your whole life, that when you grew up your duty would be to produce and sire as many heirs as possible for your betrothed, a man whom you hadn’t met yet. Not the pleasure you’d been feeling that was soaking your panties.

“What…what does being your wife, entail?” you asked. Bucky’s face broke into a grin that both comforted and unnerved you.

“I’m so glad you asked, princess.” Without another word, he pulled you in for a deep kiss. Your logical brain told you to struggle and fight but the feeling of his arms wrapping around you killed those thoughts. He was so strong. But as you felt yourself being lifted up and carried towards the bed of furs you felt…secure, safe.

“Did your mother explain HOW you would preform your queenly duties?” Bucky asked, his mocking tome returned. You shook your head.

“My mother told me my nurses’ maids would explain it on my wedding night,” you said. You had a general idea of how it all worked, having read a few romance novels that left you feeling something between your legs, but not knowing how to relive those feelings.

“Good. Then I get to take my time with you. And learn exactly what makes my little bunny squirm.” With that he reached up and ripped at the front of your dress exposing your breasts. His fiendish gaze made you squeak and instinctually go to cover yourself. But before you could, Bucky had gathered your wrists together and tied them tight with a leather chord.

“My poor little bunny. You should get used to being exposed before your new husband. You’ll only wear clothes outside of my tent and I tell you that will be a very rare occurrence.” While he pulled your dress off more with his metal hand, his flesh one tweaked and pulled one of your nipples. The other was under assault from his lips and tongue. It was strange new…and exciting. Every ministration had you pushing your body up into his. Like he was a bard and you his instrument.

“Such pretty noises you make, princess. I wonder how soaked you are between your legs.” His hands switched places and the cold iron of his hand only added to the intensity but you were suddenly aware of his other hand between your legs. Fondling your womanhood with a surprisingly gentile touch. “Just as I thought. Absolutely soaked. But just to be sure.” Bucky’s face left your chest, leaving a trail of kisses down your body, over your belly and down between your legs

“What…what are you doing…?” You asked, genuinely confused

“Oh, little bunny… I am going to show you pleasure you prudish humans are too scared to give one another.” Before you could ask what he meant you felt his tongue lick a long stripe up your pussy and encircled your clit.

“This, my little bunny, will be the focus of all your pleasure.” His tongue flicked your clit a few times, making you moan more than the whores you’d caught the guards with once or twice. Your moans were genuine, passionate; having no idea your body could feel this level of pleasure.

Bucky’s arms wrapped around your thighs and every now and then he would take a break from slurping your cunt to place kisses and scrape his tusks against your thighs. “My cute little chubby bunny. Can’t waiting to have these thighs wrapped around my head. Gunna have you sitting on my face whenever I want.” His promises were driving you wild just as much as feeling his tongue licking and sucking all over your pussy.

He was feasting on you as if he was a starving man and you were a banquet. His iron hand kept fondling your breast, squeezing it and rolling the nipple between his fingers. Every now and then he’d give a harsh pinch and tug, making you moan and press your hips against his face. The pain mixing with the pleasure in a cocktail of ecstasy. And it was all building towards something.

“Bucky…” you panted out… “I feel…” But just as whatever you thought was happening happened, Bucky pulled his face away, a drop of your juices running down one of his tusks you licked your lips at the thought of licking it off. “Hang on princess, I have something that’ll make you feel even better.”

Bucky stood up from his position and went over to an old leather trunk, pulling out a small jar. Before he rejoined you in bed, he shed himself of the leather trousers and your jaw dropped at the cock between his legs, jutting up proudly to his rounded, stout belly. You’d seen a few in paintings and tapestries but this… “You’re so…big,” you gasped.

“Don’t worry, bunny. This’ll make sure I can fit my fat orc cock in your little bunny cunt.”

As he stepped closer, you could see jar contained a pink substance; something Bucky dipped his fingers in and suddenly was rubbing in circles around your already sensitive nipples. At first it felt cool, but as the moments passed, you felt a warming starting to engulf you. Spreading from your breasts through your whole body.

And it only got. More intense as Bucky pushed two fingers in to you. The warmness started to turn into a need, a carnal desire. Bucky’s fingers were so large it took a moment to adjust but when he did, it felt amazing. “That’s a good little bunny.” He praised, which only made your tail twitch as you squeezed your thighs together, trying to get some relief for your poor clit.

“Please. Bucky. I need…” you panted.

“You need…” Bucky climbed back on the bed kneeling between your legs. He leaned down; his face so close to yours you could practically feels his words on your lips. “Tell your husband what you need, little bunny. Do you need to be my little bunny slut? To have your cunt filled over and over again by my thick orc cock?” His words drive you even crazier with want and desire. Feelings you’d never experienced and now they were in overdrive.

“Yes…please….”

Without another word Bucky pulled away his fingers before pushing his cock deep within you, making you scream as your toes curled and you were sure you were being split in half. He gave you a moment to adjust before he started a slow pace. His metal hand went between your legs and fondled your clit. His flesh hand was pressed into the mattress near your head as he kissed a trail between your breasts up to your ear.

“Gunna give me lots of little babies? With your ears and my good looks the whole tribe is going to fawn all over them…” Everything your parents ever told you meant his words should scare you; carrying his children? But instead, the way he spoke only made you…giggle? Yes, you were smiling at the idea of yours and his kids. “Yes, Bucky.”

“Such a cute little bunny…” Bucky purred, reaching down to hoist one of your legs up further, driving his cock further into you. You’d already been denied one climax, your second was approaching fast.

“Bucky please…” you choked out.

“That’s it, little bunny. Scream for me. Scream so the whole camp knows how good the chieftain fucks his little wife.” His pace became harder, fucking into you with wild abandon. “Cum for me, little bunny.” And you did, hard. Your climaxing crashing over you in waves of ecstasy as you screamed and moaned at the feeling. Above you, bucky stilled and you moaned more at the feeling of Bucky cumming in you, feeling it leak past you and dripping out of your pussy.

“Messy little bunny.” Bucky teased and your face heated up. Your breath hitched at the sight of Bucky pulling a dagger out from under the bed. “Relax, little bunny. I would not damage my bride.” Instead, he cut the leather cord binding your wrists. “At least not without taking care of her afterwards.” He pulled a large pelt up around you both, and it was there in his warm embrace you fell asleep, his cock still buried in you.

You’d always thought of sex as a chore, a duty to continue a bloodline. True, you knew couples to be affectionate and love each other. But the way Bucky made you feel mixing ravenous passion with just a dash of pain made you shiver with excitement. But you knew nothing about orcs.

When you awoke, you were surprised to find yourself alone. A lit fire made the place surprisingly warm, and a comfortable moan turned into a wince you looked down to see bruises littering your neck and shoulders. That would explain how sore you were. And you were sure there were more bruises to be found. Between your legs was especially tender, but you didn’t feel bad. In fact, you felt great. And even more so, you felt free. You laid there, listening to the crackle of fire and the sound of the breeze outside tent and smiled.

He didn’t seem aggressive but you knew nothing about being a …what had he called it. Chieftain’s wife? Surely it was like being a queen and you could do that. You had been in training, after all. And one of the main reasons you hated lessons was that your ideas were always shot down, called too flighty or gods forbid, empathetic.

“Well now. The Chieftain’s Wife.” You looked up and saw… a human woman? A redhead wearing a purple tunic and black pants. Her hair was plated into a single long braid, with beautiful silver beads braided in. She had two daggers around her thigh; the sight of which made you freed but she held up her hands “Relax, princess.” You sat up, only to squeak in realization you were totally naked, quickly covering yourself with the top pelt.

“How…how do you know who I am?”

“My name’s Natasha. I applied to be a member of the royal guard. But got rejected cause I’m a woman. I left the kingdom and wound up here. Sam, our second chief was impressed by my skills and allowed me to join his tribe. I even found my own mate. The local healer, Bruce.”

“What are they like?” you asked.

“I’ll be honest, little brutish. Though you've probably figured that out.” Her words made you smile. “But they have a respect for nature and live more in harmony with it than our kingdom ever could. I found a freedom here I never thought possible.” You pondered her words. Freedom. Something you never thought you’d have a chance at. Every moment of your life planned out for you, including the betrothed husband Bucky had taunted you with. Bucky...

“What is the chief like?”

“Smart. He handles a lot of the strategic moves. That’s why he chose you for his mate

“But, my parents…”

“He’s aware. Which is why I’m here. I’ve come to escort you home, if you choose.“

“I think you would be a great Chieftain’s Wife. I was friends with some of the guards and they’d sometimes mention how sad the princess looked. How your ideas were often rejected or ignored because a queen is beautiful but silent. Not here. If you speak your mind to Bucky; I promise, he will listen. He already talks about how beautiful you are.” That thought made you smile.

You thought for a moment. “And if I stay?” You asked.

“Would you teach me how to shoot a bow and arrow?

“Of course. In fact, my lover Clint…”

“Wait. I thought Bruce was your husband?” You asked.

“He is but the orcs are rather…generous in their love.” A slight blush made Natasha’s cheeks turn as red as her hair. “It’ll be between you and Bucky to discuss but there’s been quite a gossip around you, bunny.” The little wink she gave you made you feel even warmer. “And if you ever need someone to talk to, Bucky has also asked I be your security.

“I appreciate that. Thank you, Natasha” She gave you a polite nod and left. A few more minutes later, Bucky came in, shirtless but in trousers. And you noticed his hair was still in the same bun, but now some of his hair braided on his left side two beads, one silver, one red.

“My cute little bunny. How are you feeling?”

“Sore.” This time, it sounded like you were teasing him.

“I'd say I was sorry, but it’d be a lie. I can try to be gentler next time, but I don’t think that’s what you want. You bit your lip at the thought.

“No, I don’t think so.” You admitted quietly. Bucky smiled and sat down on the edge of the bed.

“I have something for you.” He reached for your hand you gave it freely. Bucky opened his own hand to reveal a beautiful gold ring to match the one around his tusk. In his hand was also a silver bead, with a tiny wolf carved into it.

“It’s beautiful, Bucky.” You said.

“Not nearly as beautiful as you, my little bunny.” he smiled, stroking your ear. But one question still lingered I your mind. “What was that pink stuff, Bucky?”

“A powerful aphrodisiac” he explained. “Makes you feel amazing and I knew your tiny body would need a little helping taking my cock. Just a little lubricant. Amazing how people can ignore the simplest things that would fix their problems.” His words had you squirming again. He leaned into kiss you, kicking off round 2.

But what Bucky didn’t tell you, was how the lubricant would bond your hearts together. You and Bucky were connected. And if your parents tried to take you away from him, it would kill you. Even offering to take you home had just been illusion; you’d never leave him. But what it did matter, you got your freedom and he had a cute little bunny to play with. And Natasha had been all to willing to help, taking revenge on the king and queen.

**3 MONTHS LATER**

Your mother paced nervously back and forth. They’d received your letter and your father had immediately wanted to mount an army, but your mother had managed to convince him to hold off, suggesting instead to write a return letter, wanting to see you first. They had received a response, stating you would return to see them…with your husband.

When you entered the throne room, your mother finally sat in shock. One side of your head had been shaved, with part of your remaining hair in a braid that matched the great orc’s you held hands with. When you lived in the palace, your mother forced you into more “feminine” colors, pinks and purple, but now you a dress of greens, browns. Far more fitting to camouflage in the woods. You carried a bow on your back and tribal tattoos winded down your arm; coming to a shape at your wrist that when your parents looked to your hands, they saw a matching on the orc’s flesh arm.

No longer were you the princess of their kingdom. But the chieftain’s wife of a great orc tribe. You were wild. You were free.

[jtargaryen18]

Okay, I love fantasy and the mention Bucky was an orc got my attention. I had no idea what I was walking into but what a great story. I could easily picture all of it because it was so well written. I love princess Bunny for her adventuring spirit and her willingness to keep an open mind. What a treat ❤️ And Bucky? He was brutally hot. 🌶️🌶️🌶️

[mcsiggy]

whats with those tumblr screenshots with the water filter.

stop making the posts wet

[thisistrashking]

[mcsiggy]

oughggh....

[mcsiggy]

They censor me................ because of my wet post :(

[potentiallymature]

POTENTIALLY MATURE CONTENT

[fablehaven-rulez]

how???

[witchywithwhiskey]

baking spooky sprinkle cookies with your clingy orc best friend

pairing: orc!bestfriend!bucky barnes x human!female reader

summary: your orc best friend is clingy, and when you invite him over for your annual halloween movie marathon, the innocent touches you've grown used to turn into something more.

warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), monsterfucking/teratophilia, smut, piv sex, unprotected sex, multiple creampies, orgasm delay, slight come inflation, multiple orgasms, an absurd amount of cockwarming, light bondage/restraints through body harness, size kink/size difference, brief breeding kink, dirty talk, praise kink, very light degradation kink, pet names (baby doe, pet), friends to lovers, happy ending

word count: 5,000

a/n: my first halloween fic of 2025 is my entry for @darkficsyouneveraskedfor's Orctober challenge!! i used the prompts "size difference" and "baking comfort foods" and combined it with my favorite-favorite trope of friends-to-lovers. i may have written plenty of friends-to-lovers fics with Bucky, but this one is slightly different because he's an orc 😅 anyway, hope y'all enjoy!!

halloween fics masterlist

When you befriended the orc that had moved to your small town—the first monster to do so—it had seemed like everyone needed to warn you about what could happen. Some cautioned that orcs were quick to anger, while others insisted they had a cruel streak.

Then there had been the groups of middle-aged women who, with eyes as wide as saucers, asked you in hushed tones about what would happen if, god forbid, he forced you to carry his children.

They warned you that you’d never recover. 

As gently as you could, you’d assure them you were just friends—keeping to yourself that you secretly wished you could be more with your orc best friend.

It was tedious, listening to the town and their outdated ideas. Thankfully, as the months and years went by, the warnings waned. Meanwhile, you grew closer with your best friend, and you learned something nobody had warned you about: Orcs were clingy.

Or maybe that was just your orc best friend, Bucky Barnes.

It seemed like he couldn’t go five minutes without touching you, whether that was settling one of his big hands on the small of your back while the two of you wandered through the town’s harvest festival. Or the way he hooked his heavy arm around your shoulders and tucked you into his side when you went out for drinks with friends.

Truthfully, you hadn’t realized how touch-starved you were until you’d met Bucky. You enjoyed the brush of his warm palms, the teasing touch of his ghosting fingers and the steady weight of his heavy hands too much to tell him to stop. 

It helped that Bucky’s touches were always innocent. His hands never drifted anywhere inappropriate, and it never felt like he was trying to coax you into something more. Even though sometimes you wished he would.

Still, as innocent as it was, Bucky’s wandering hands often drove you to distraction. While you’d accepted it as part of your life with him, and you enjoyed having the clingy orc as your best friend, it could be inconvenient at times.

Case in point: It was the morning of your annual Halloween movie marathon, and you were busy in the kitchen of your little cottage on the edge of town, trying to bake some spooky sprinkle cookies. 

Bucky had arrived bright and early, a tray of hot, steaming coffee and a bag of pastries in hand, to “help” you with the task. However, all he’d managed to do was finish his own drink in record time and stand behind you with his hands on your hips while he watched over your shoulder as you measured out ingredients.

The problem was his hands didn’t stay still. His fingers slipped beneath your sweater, pressing into the warm skin of your belly above the hem of your leggings, and the feeling was so surprising, so distracting—so good—that your hands shook and you spilled flour all over the countertop.

“Bucky,” you whined, staring at the wreckage in front of you and huffing an annoyed breath. “You know the rules,” you began, shooting a glare over your shoulder at the big orc. “Keep your hands on the outside of my clothes while I’m handling easily spillable things.”

You grabbed his thick wrist—not for the first time marveling over the fact that your fingers didn’t even come close to closing around it—and yanked his hand out from under your sweater. Out of habit, you set his palm back on your hip and grabbed a damp kitchen towel to begin cleaning up.

Bucky, at least, had the decency to look chastened. He plucked the towel from your hand, sweeping the loose flour into his palm while you lifted your mixing bowl.

“I’m sorry, baby doe, I wasn’t thinking,” Bucky murmured, his tusks protruding more as he pouted a little.

Heaving a sigh, you let the frustration dissolve as you exhaled, and you gave him a smile. It was impossible to stay mad at your best friend when he sounded so remorseful—and when he helped you clean up the messes he caused you to make.

“I forgive you, just try to be careful, Buck, please,” you said, turning back to your mixing bowl and beginning to sift flour in again.

Bucky slid in behind you, and you paused, waiting for him to get comfortable. He wrapped his thick arms around your front and tucked his chin on top of your head, rumbling a pleased sound in his chest. You could practically see the contented smile on his face.

Only once he’d settled did you continue what you were doing, muttering, “Sometimes, I think you’d live inside me if I let you.”

Your words had a sudden, and more severe effect on your best friend than you’d anticipated.

Bucky’s arms tightened, his whole body going taut, and he rumbled a deep sound in his chest, almost like a purr. Desire slid like warm chocolate down your spine, and you quickly set your sifter aside before you could make another mess.

“Don’t tempt me, baby doe.” 

You went still, confused by the shift in the mood of the room and what you’d done to cause it. You’d worked hard to keep your feelings for Bucky bottled up, but it felt like you’d accidentally let some spill free along with the flour. It also felt like he might return your feelings.

“Wha-what do you mean?” 

As if to explain, Bucky pressed his hips flush to your body, and you felt the thick ridge of his cock dig into your lower back. He was so hot and hard, you gasped, gripping the edge of the counter and instinctively pushing up onto your tiptoes to press your ass into him.

“Buck.” His name on your lips was a pitiful whine, dissolving into a wanton moan when he lifted you off your feet, slotting his cock between the cheeks of your ass through your leggings. 

“I’d love to live inside you, baby doe,” Bucky murmured. “I dream about it—dream about having you impaled on my cock, strapped to the front of my body to keep you there, while I go about my day.”

Your best friend rocked his hips, grinding his thick cock into your ass, and all you could do was tilt your head to the side, giving Bucky access to press wet, suckling kisses down the line of your neck. When he nipped you teasingly with his tusks, you mewled desperately. 

“I want to make you my permanent, pretty little cocksleeve, pet,” Bucky went on, his voice growing deeper and darker, his hands beginning to wander, groping your soft curves as he spoke. “Want you to be so used to being full of my cock, it feels strange when I’m not inside you.”

“Oh—oh my god,” you gasped, heart racing in your chest. Heat suffused your body so thoroughly, you had the distant, wild thought that you’d left the oven on too long. “We’re just friends,” you said dumbly, knowing even as you said the words that they were a far-cry from the simple truth. “We don’t do that.”

“But you’ve thought about it, haven’t you?” he murmured teasingly in your ear, and the heat in your body rose to your cheeks. “You’ve thought about what it would be like for me to slide my thick, orc cock into your sweet little human pussy.”

He said the words so assuredly, you wanted to proest—but you couldn’t. Because it’d be a lie. 

Of course, you’d thought about it. Of course, you’d thought about being with Bucky. He was so kind and considerate, and so big, you couldn’t help but be curious…

“I’ve thought about it endlessly, baby doe,” Bucky confessed. One of his hands drifted down to your belly, until his fingertips just barely brushed the top of your mound over your leggings. “I’ve thought about filling you with my seed, about you growing round with my youngling.”

A tremor of desire shivered down your spine, your nipples tightening with need beneath your sweater. Leaning into Bucky’s hulking form, your head fell back against his shoulder, letting his voice flow over you.

“I can smell the way you slicken when the townsfolk try to warn you away from me,” he rumbled, his fingers teasing the waist of your leggings. “I’ve tried to be patient and wait for you to come to me, but I’m losing my mind here, baby doe. Tell me I’m not alone—please.”

Bucky’s final word sounded like it was ripped from the very depths of his soul, and it cracked you open.

A helpless, pitiful whimper slipped from your lips and you shuddered in your best friend’s arms as you let yourself feel everything you’d stuffed down deep for so long.

“Bucky,” you started, turning in his arms to face him. Pushing up onto your tiptoes, you wound your arms around his neck, practically climbing his massive body to look him in the eye. “You’re not alone—I feel it, too.”

“That’s my girl,” Bucky murmured seconds before capturing your lips in a kiss. 

All the emotion you’d bottled up surged forward, rushing to the surface, and you kissed Bucky with all that you had, your best friend meeting you with his infinite passion and desire. For long, blissful moments, you reveled in each other, exalting in the joy of finally coming together.

When you nipped at Bucky’s lower lip, he chuckled deep in his chest, sending delightful shivers of pleasure down your spine to settle heavily between your thighs. And when you ran your tongue teasingly over his tusks, he groaned so deep, you felt yourself growing obscenely wet, your body aching to be filled.

“Are you going to let me have you, baby doe? Are you going to let me touch you in all the ways I’ve been dreaming about for years?”

“God, Bucky, yes, please,” you gasped. “I’m yours, touch me however you want. Just fill me up. Please.”

The orc let out a low groan, ducking down to grab you around the backs of your thighs. He hauled you up until your legs circled his waist, your center settling deliciously against the impossibly thick girth in his pants.

“We’ll get there, but it’s going to take some work, baby doe,” Bucky murmured, carrying you out of the kitchen and into your living room. He sank down onto your orc-sized couch, pulling you on top of him.

Your thighs were spread obscenely wide across Bucky’s lap, his massive bulge hot and hard against your already drenched core. You were so distracted by the devastatingly perfect feel of him, of his mouth on your skin as he kissed your jaw, that it took a moment to understand his words.

“What do you mean work?”

A husky chuckle ghosted over your neck and you shivered. Bucky grabbed your hips and dragged your slit slowly up and down the imposingly long ridge of his cock.

“Feel that, pet?” Bucky rumbled in your ear, his voice gruff with desire. “It’s all for you, but we gotta make sure you’re ready for me, yeah? Don’t wanna hurt you.”

Your pussy gave a hungry pulse, and a soft, needy whimper slipped from your lips. Your fingers curled into claws in his t-shirt, tugging uselessly at the fabric that was in the way.

“Want to feel you, Buck—really feel you.”

Your eyes found his, pleading wordlessly with your best friend. His hands slid beneath your sweater again, dragging the hem up until it snagged on the lower curves of your breasts. He paused, raising his brows in a silent question, and you nodded eagerly.

Agonizingly slowly, Bucky undressed you, a reverence in his gaze as he peeled away the layers of your clothes like he was unwrapping the most precious of gifts. When your sweater and bra were discarded, he hauled you up his chest so that he could lavish your tits in worshipping, suckling kisses. 

The orc rumbled a groan deep in his chest as he sucked on your nipples, the vibrations reverberating delightfully through your body until you were grinding down on his stomach. You could feel the hard-packed muscle beneath a layer of softness, and it drove you wild, humping against Bucky like he was a firm pillow between your thighs.

“Fuck, baby doe, I can feel how wet you are,” Bucky muttered, his words muffled against your bare skin. 

When you looked down, sure enough, you’d left a wet spot on his sweater, the fabric dark with your arousal. Heat rose to your cheeks and you covered your face in embarrassment, mumbling a scandalized, “Ohmygod.”

But Bucky only chuckled, gently prying your hands away from your face and bringing your mouth to his for a sweet, slow kiss. You melted into him, your arms winding around his shoulders, fingers carding lazily through his soft hair. 

“Should I take my shirt off, baby doe, let you really mark me with your scent?” Bucky teased, his tusks practically twitching with mirth as he tried to keep the smirk off his face. 

“Mean,” was all you said before kissing him again. “But yes, take your shirt off.”

Another laugh rumbled in Bucky’s chest but he did as you asked. In half the time it had taken Bucky to strip you of your sweater, he undressed himself and the rest of you. When you settled back on his lap, it was skin-to-skin and the sheer heat of him—the delicious scent of him, like earth and air—was so overwhelming, you moaned loudly. 

Bucky captured your mouth in a decadent kiss, swallowing down your sounds of pleasure as he rearranged the two of you on the couch. He reclined into the cushions, half-laying down while you sprawled on top of him, the monstrous ridge of his cock wedged between your thighs. 

When you broke from the kiss to catch your breath, you couldn’t help but satisfy your curiosity, casting your gaze down between your bodies to Bucky’s cock. When you saw him, your eyes went wide—not from fear or apprehension, but from excitement.

“Don’t worry, baby doe, it’ll fit,” Bucky murmured, misinterpreting your expression. He brushed a soothing kiss to your temple.

You gave an impolite snort and looked at your best friend. “Oh, I know it will,” you said, a smirk curling the edges of your mouth. “It’ll just take some work, right, Buck?” you asked teasingly, but you didn’t give your best friend a chance to answer.

Planting your hands on Bucky’s pecs, you rolled your hips in a slow, delicious slide, dragging your wet pussy up and down the shaft of his cock. Your lower lips were split obscenely wide around his thick girth, but you were so wet, dripping with so much arousal, that it wasn’t long before you were coating him in your desire.

“Jesus—fuck, you feel so good leaking all over my cock,” Bucky growled, his blue eyes dark like an autumn night as he watched your pussy grind against his cock. “Good girl, get me all nice and slick—it’ll make it so much easier to stuff your sweet little human cunt full of my fat cock.”

“Oh god,” you cried, your entire body shuddering with want. Before you could think to stop them, words tumbled from your lips. “I want your cock so bad, Buck, want you to split me open, want you to ruin me for anyone else.”

“Baby doe.” The pet named was a guttural growl, and when you glanced up at Bucky’s handsome face, you found him staring at you like you’d hung the moon in the sky. “You’ve already ruined me for anyone else.”

Your mouth dropped open at the confession, but your best friend wasn’t done.

“I’ll never want anyone else but you, baby doe,” Bucky rumbled, his voice laced with emotion. “You’re the perfect mate for me, and you can have me however you want me—whether it’s as friends, or something more. My heart and soul are yours.” 

“Oh Bucky,” you cried, dragging his face to yours for a kiss. You kissed his passionately, letting him feel every bit of the love and devotion filling your chest. “I’m yours, Buck, I’m all yours—forever,” you promised, gasping for breath as you stared into his sapphire eyes. 

“Mine,” Bucky growled, his gaze darkening with a possessiveness that called to something deep in your soul. You grinned at your best friend—your mate—and echoed the word back to him.

“Mine.”

Before Bucky could capture you again in another long, heated kiss, you sat back, lifting up until the tip of his cock nudged at the tight, dripping hole between your thighs. The orc snarled hungrily, his hands grabbing your hips and helping to line you up. 

Holding Bucky’s gaze, you began to lower yourself on his cock, gasping when the blunt tip pushed into your tight channel. 

“Oh god,” you mumbled, eyes rolling back in your head at the sheer stretch of him. He was so big that you were panting, your cunt throbbing with pleasure. 

“Take it slow, pet, relax—don’t hurt yourself,” Bucky warned, and you blinked until you could focus on him again. 

It was grounding, staring into the eyes of your best friend, of the orc who knew you better than anyone else in the world. When the sting between your thighs eased, you lifted up, feeling the tip of Bucky’s cock pop free from your hole; then you pressed down again, taking another delicious inch of him.

“Good girl,” Bucky rumbled, his eyes going dark and hooded as he watched you. His gaze was admiring as it swept down your body, lingering on your curves. “You look so fucking gorgeous taking my cock, I could watch you all day.”

You huffed a half-hysterical laugh. “It better not take that long to make it fit,” you quipped breathlessly, rising up and sinking down on him again, taking even more. “God, Bucky, you’re so big,” you whined, tears springing to your lashes.

When you blinked the tears from your eyes, you found Bucky smirking smugly at you, his tusks proudly on display. 

“Want some help, baby doe?” he asked, his voice dripping with so much male satisfaction, you had to roll your eyes. “Want me to stuff that tight little cunt with my big cock?”

A soft, keening moan slipped from your lips, and your pussy pulsed around Bucky’s hardness, even more wetness gushing from your dripping hole. You couldn’t hide your body’s reaction, and he chuckled, sounding even more delightfully satisfied.  

“I’ll take that as a yes.” 

Still, Bucky paused, his gaze catching yours as he waited for your assent. You nodded your head, feeling a bit like a bobblehead, and urged him to take over.

Your best friend’s big hands cupped your ass, using his considerable strength to lift you up and pull you back down on his cock, inching deeper. Bucky spent long, luxurious minutes working his thick cock into your pussy, the delicious torture of him stretching you open seeming to go on forever.

All the while, he kept up a litany of praise, cooing about how good you were doing for him, how you were taking his cock so prettily. And when the tears that caught in your lashes splashed onto your cheeks, he tipped your face toward his so he could kiss them away. 

It was so perfect, you almost never wanted it to end. But there was an insatiable creature buried deep in your bones, and it craved the feeling of taking Bucky to the root. You needed to be full of him, to be so filled by your best friend’s cock that it left no room for doubt about who you belonged to.

“Almost there,” the orc purred after what seemed like an endless age. He kissed your bee-stung lips, his tusks nipping playfully before he pulled back to look at you. “You can take me all the way, can’t you, baby doe? You can take every inch of my cock?” 

“I can take it,” you said, hiccuping a sob while your hands gripped his bulging biceps. “Give it to me, Buck, gimme your whole cock. Stuff me full, show me I was made to take your cock.”

Bucky’s eyes flashed with something feral, and in the next moment he was biting out a command, “Deep breath, baby.” He waited until you filled your lungs with air, and then he yanked you down on his lap until your ass was flush with his tree-trunk thighs.

A piercing scream ripped from your lips, filling the cozy living room of your cottage as your mind went blank and pleasure—sharp and so deliciously sweet—tore through your body. There was an edge of stinging pain that cast the pleasure in much starker relief, overwhelming you as you succumbed to sensation.

It wasn’t until a moment later, when you crashed back into your body, that you realized you were coming. Your scream had dissolved into ragged, helpless sobs, and you shook violently against Bucky’s barrel chest, his sturdy arms wrapped around your body, one hand petting your back while the other held you on his lap.

“That’s my girl, so perfect, such a perfect mate, coming on my cock,” he rumbled, his voice growly and breathless in equal measure. “Fuck, you feel so good, baby doe—can feel your precious cunt gripping my cock like she never wants to let me go.”

“Never,” you gasped, echoing a word that you felt in your soul was important. “Never let me go, Buck.” 

“Never,” he promised, tipping your face toward his for a tender kiss.

For a long while, you simply kissed, enjoying the feeling of being joined together in the most physically intimate way possible. 

When you broke away for some air, you looked down your body, and noticed a slight bulge in your belly where Bucky’s cock was seated deep inside you. Your fingertips danced over the bump, your eyes wide with wonder.

A low chuckle came from Bucky, and he pressed his big palm against your stomach, making your cunt impossibly tighter around his cock. You felt him twitch, your body giving an answering clench as you moaned wantonly.

“This is where I belong,” Bucky murmured, ducking down and planting a kiss to the apple of your cheek, making you smile at the brush of his tusks. “Buried inside my sweet little baby doe. I’m going to stay right here as long as you’ll let me.”

You smiled dreamily at your orc, laying your hand over the back of his and pressing his palm more firmly against your belly. “You can stay as long as you want—as long as you fuck me first,” you sassed.

“Is that a new rule?” Bucky shot back, a feral grin stealing across his face. 

Before you could answer, he was moving. Cupping your ass, Bucky lifted you up until only the tip of him remained inside, then pulled you back down hard his cock.

An obscene cry spilled from your lips, your mind going blank as every bit of your being focused on the pleasure of his thick, veiny length dragging against your sensitive inner walls. It was almost too much, and yet not enough because you wanted more of that sensation—you were ravenous for it.

“More,” you sobbed, “please!”

Bucky grunted and set to work bouncing you on his cock, working you up and down his shaft like you were his own personal fuck toy. It was so absurdly hot that all you could do was sit pretty on his cock, your gaze flying between his savage expression and the sight of his cock bulging in your belly.

“Rub your pearl, baby doe,” Bucky growled. “Oh fuck, ‘m gonna come, and I want to feel you milking my cock.”

Your fingers slid between your thighs, finding your achy, swollen clit. It only took a few strokes to get you to the edge and you opened your mouth to tell Bucky you were close. But before you could, he surged up from below, the tip of his cock hitting a spot deep inside you that had you seeing stars.

You came again with another wailing scream, so suddenly that your sound of pleasure cut off on a vicious gasp. Tremors shook your entire body and it was only Bucky’s hands that kept you upright and impaled on his cock.

Your orc rutted into you from below, his dark blue gaze fixed on your face, watching as every bit of pleasure washed over your features. His expression was twisted with his own desire, his tusks bared and his nostrils flaring as he pounded into you. 

With a ferocious roar, Bucky threw his head back and his entire body went taut as he yanked you down hard on his cock. The sight of him coming was glorious, all corded muscle and barely-leashed, monstrous strength, his hips still working instinctively as his cock twitched in your cunt.

Your orc spilled rope after rope of thick come into your pussy, flooding your body until it was overflowing, leaking out around the edges of his fat cock. 

Once he eased down from his peak, Bucky gathered you up in his arms, guiding you to sprawl across his chest while his palms skated along your skin, touching you wherever he could reach. With a happy hum, you settled on top of him, enjoying the feeling of his touch even more when your body was loose and sated.

“Baby doe?” Bucky asked after a while, a hint of tentativeness in his tone. You hummed, encouraging him to go on. “Were you serious about letting me stay inside you as long as I want?”

“Mm,” you murmured, rousing yourself from the edge of sleep to lift your head and pout at Bucky. “I was, but I still want to bake those spooky sprinkle cookies for our movie night later.”

Something sparked in Bucky’s eye and a smirk spread slowly across his handsome face. “What if I told you I had something to let us do both?”

It turned out, orcs were clingy—and not just your best friend. 

So much so that someone had invented a type of harness to allow orcs to keep their partners strapped to their chests, and impaled on their cocks, while giving them the freedom to do other things.

It was easier to get into the adjustable harness than you would’ve expected, though Bucky did all the work. He slid you into the stiff leather, promising to get you a new one tailor-made to your bodies as soon as possible. 

Your orc was careful as he impaled you on his cock again, but it took much less effort, your pussy already stretched to accommodate his massive length.

A soft moan slipped from your lips when Bucky stood once the harness was secured. You were strapped tightly to his barrel chest, your legs supported by the harness and slung over his hips, leaving his hands free.

When he began to walk to your kitchen, Bucky’s cock shifted inside you and you mewled happily, feeling your pussy gush and clench around him.

Stroking a hand down your spine, Bucky purred, “Does that feel good, baby doe?”

You hummed a happy, dreamy, “Yeah,” and settled your cheek against Bucky’s sternum, enjoying the scent of his musk, the warmth of his skin, and the steady beating of his heart.

Dropping a kiss to the top of your head, Bucky rumbled a pleased sound as he came to a stop in your kitchen. “Now, tell me how to make these cookies—we can’t have our Halloween movie marathon without them.”

For the rest of the morning, and into the early afternoon, you guided Bucky through the recipe, watching over your shoulder. All the while, you enjoyed the feeling of being split open on your orc’s cock, and pressed tightly against his chest, so much of your bare skin touching his that you felt settled in a way that was bone-deep.

Bucky’s heart was a steady companion, beating rhythmically in your ear, letting you know just how happy he was to have you close.

Every once in a while, Bucky would roll his hips, driving his cock deep for a delicious moment, making you moan for him before he returned to his task. By the time the last batch of cookies were out of the oven, you were begging him to fuck you again. 

The two of you took a break while you ate lunch, then snuggled on the couch together. When you got sleepy, you laid down with Bucky, and he worked himself inside you. You took a short nap while Bucky watched some old Halloween favorites, waking up in time for the true spooky movie marathon to begin.

Bucky grunted every time one of the jump scares got you, feeling your body clench down on his cock. Your shrieks of terror dissolved into moans when he fucked you, slow and sweet, only letting you come when the movie ended.

By the end of the night, Bucky had buried so many loads in you, your belly bulged a little. He teased you with the idea of planting his seed in your womb, and watching you grow swollen with his youngling—though, since you were on birth control, it wasn’t likely to happen. 

Still, the idea made both of you equally feral.

Eventually, you and Bucky fell asleep on the couch together, your pussy stuffed full of your orc’s cock, while movies played on the TV.

It wasn’t the day you’d expected to have when you’d invited Bucky Barnes over for your anual Halloween movie night, but baking spooky sprinkle cookies with your clingy orc best friend while impaled on his cock turned out to be one of the best days of your life. 

And it was only the beginning.

halloween fics masterlist

[boxofbonesfic]

Title: Monster

Kinktober Masterlist

Pairing: Orc!Bucky x Sacrifice!Reader

Kink: Teratophilia (Monsterfucking)

Summary: You draw the devil’s coin in the village lottery, you will buy another season of peace for your people—but you don’t want peace.

Warnings: 18+ Only, Dark Fantasy, Monsterfucking, References to past violence, References to past murder, Witch Burning, Forced Marriage, Dubious Consent, Violence, Revenge, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Darkfic, Dark Fanfiction

A/N: as a note, this story does NOT share a universe with my other Orc story, Brave. this is another version of Orc!Bucky that i cooked up for kinktober. speaking of which, i hope you all enjoy the first installment of my 2023 kinktober ficlets and drabbles! mind the warnings, and enjoy!

Your wedding day dawns bleak and cold. The snows have come early this year, snuffing out the brief, brittle green of summer with icy finality, blanketing the hills in thick layers of white.

Your death day.

“Up with you.” You aren’t asleep, but Thera rips the blanket from you anyway. “Come. It’s time you prepare for your... husband.” There is no pity anywhere on her wrinkled face as she grimaces at you, her eyes dark with disgust. “Witch.” She mutters the last part like a curse you aren’t meant to hear. You do, though, and you bare  your teeth at Thera like an animal in response. You are satisfied when fear settles over her features, her rheumy eyes widening. 

“If I were a witch,” you hiss, “You would not stand whole before me, Thera Truthspeaker.” This time it is her name that burns in the ear like acid. “You would lay at my feet in pieces.”

She slaps you for the threat, and you taste blood in your mouth as your head jerks painfully. Thera grasps your chin, and you turn dazed eyes toward the old priestess.

“You speak with as foul a tongue as your mother,” she spits.

“Pity you couldn’t burn mine out of me like you did her.” At this, she looks regretful, cutting her eyes at you angrily.

“Lucky for you Demon King likes his brides whole.” She squeezes until you grunt with pain. “And unspoiled.” She tosses your head to the side before standing away from your cot before brushing her hands down her long, thick robes as though wiping your taint from them. “Save your venom, little snake. It is by my grace you were not put to the torch two seasons ago with your witch mother.”

You almost wish they had, instead of forcing the scarred coin into your hand. At least you can serve the light like this, the priest had said, his grim face illuminated by the firelight. You have not forgotten the way your mother’s body burned bright, her head turned heavenward, her mouth open in silent scream as the flames leapt from her blackened lips.

At least you can serve some good when he comes.

Despite her age, Thera’s grip is strong as she forces you up out of the narrow cot. The stone floor of the chapel is like ice on your bare feet as you stumble after her. There is an old metal basin in the chapel’s meager kitchen, and Thera instructs you to strip before ushering you into the steaming water. You hiss at the burn, but it’s the warmest you’ve been in weeks. Months, more-like. She scrubs your skin raw with rough fingers, and tears through your hair with the comb until your scalp stings. When you wince, Thera cracks her open palm against the back of your skull.

“Be still!” Your ears ring from the force of her blow. “This is an honor—a great privilege you have been afforded, though you are tainted and unworthy.” 

The laugh that bubbles from your chest is bitter. “This is not your pulpit, Truthspeaker, and I am not your sheep.” 

Thera paints the symbols for fertility and prosperity on your damp shoulders in perfumed oil before rubbing them into your skin. She combs the oil through your hair, too, braiding gold thread into it as she pins it up away from your face. As she is closing the bridal robe around your shoulders, the door flies open.

The priest practically falls through it, his face shining with sweat despite the temperature. The charcoal around his wide, fear-bright eyes runs dark on his pale skin, like dark tears tracking down his gaunt cheeks. His terror is catching, your own heart pounding against your ribs. 

“He comes! The Demon King comes! He rides for the village!” Thera glances at you, her thin lips curving into a cruel smile. 

“And his bride waits.”

—

You have seen a bride taken, once. You were young, six seasons, perhaps? Seven? You saw the Demon King ride away with her, her long, black veil whipping behind her in the icy wind.

Mother had told you not to go, not to watch—It’s barbaric, my love, we needn’t take part—but you couldn’t help yourself. She is lucky, she is blessed, the townspeople murmured amongst themselves as they watched her go. Chosen. She’d drawn the coin from the bag, the same pitted, pocked metal that the priest had forced into your trembling hands as you’d watched your mother burn.

Life for life.

The rope bites into your wrists as you tug uselessly at your bindings. Your breath leaves your lips in frantic clouds of white as you pull and pull. Your only victory is the creak of the rope as it tightens. Your teeth chatter as you stare into the fog. It rolls out between the trunks of the bare trees like tendrils, creeping along the snow-covered ground until it fills the air, obscuring light and sound until all around you is dim as twilight.

“Your bride awaits you,” the priest’s muffled voice trembles. “Take her and honor our agreement, as it has been, and as it shall be.”

For a long time there is no answer from the thick, swirling fog. You count each second, your aching arms stretched above you, the rough wood of the post digging into your back through your cloak. The cold eats away at your bones as you shiver. It’s not snowing any more, but the loose drift blows up into your face as the wind rips at you. The priest’s voice trembles as he begins again.

“Take her and honor our—”

“Silence.”

 The voice vibrates powerfully in your very marrow, in your head and all around. He is near. You can barely see a foot in front of you, and now you are glad for it, glad you cannot see the face of your death. The mist swells, roiling angrily around you as your skin prickles with his closeness. You know not what the Dark King looks like, but you know what you have heard murmured in the dark corners of ale-soaked taverns and in the pews of every chapel of the Holy Light—he is darkness, he is devil made flesh and set upon the children of light so that they might know fear. 

That the price of flesh paid by your people is all that keeps him from loosing his terrible fury upon the valley—

But you do not yet know you believe.

You are afraid, that much you can tell from the thundering of your heart and the staccato sound of your own breath. You cannot see him, but you know he circles you, like a wolf, just behind the curtain of smoke and mist. The silence is deafening, and for a moment you wonder grimly what the Truthspeakers will do with you if the Devil himself does not take you—

“I accept this offering.”

 He steps sideways out of nowhere, the air simply parting like a curtain to reveal him. The Orc regards you silently, watching your breath cloud the air and disappear. He reaches for you and you flinch, but he doesn’t touch you. Instead, he pulls at the ropes. The priest knotted them tightly around the post, but when the Orc pulls lightly, it comes away easily, as if undone by his touch. 

His face is more human than you expected, fierce blue eyes set above chiseled cheekbones. His tusks poke out from beneath his bottom lip, but only barely, more evident as he grimaces. You wonder if he is displeased with you, as he looks you over, and you flinch when he reaches out with one massive, gloved hand. He grasps your chin firmly, turning your head this way and that before sighing. 

“Come.” 

 This time, his voice does not echo through the clearing as if spoken by a dozen men. He reaches for you again, this time drawing the dark veil down over your face. His horse is as large and dark as he is, and the great beast paws the ground as you near, and you see your own fearful face reflected in its strange red eyes. He chuckles at your reluctance.

“Afraid, little bride?”

You are. Truly afraid. Of him. Of the village. Of the way forward, wherever it led. But you would not be like Thera, like the cowering priests in their chapel. Your fear would not rule you. 

You grasp the reins and fit a foot into the stirrup. 

“I am afraid.” Swinging your leg up, you climb into the saddle. “And I am more than fear.” He smiles, the sharp, white points of his teeth gleaming as his lips part.

“Good.” He steps up behind you, and your face flushes with heat as he fits you against his front. 

“What are you called?” He hesitates, and you wonder whether or not he will tell you the truth.

“James.”

—

The sun is low in the sky by the time you see the encampment, nestled in the dark, snowy hills like a glowing ember. You tense as you see it, going rigid in the saddle.

“I did not know you came to collect your bride price with an army.” You reply, and behind you James chuckles. 

“How else would I make sure it was paid?” 

You feel small and alone as you ride into camp, your veil still pulled low over your eyes. The sounds of music and conversation die as the king approaches, the garrison watching with curious apprehension. The pack parts for you, people stepping away from James’ horse with a respectful bow. He is King here, of that there could be no doubt. A great fire blazes at the heart off the encampment, and James rides close enough to feel its heat before dismounting. He holds out his hand to you with a thin smile. 

“Come, little wife. Lay aside your fear and let us know your fate.” You return his grim smile with one of your own. 

I suppose I always knew it would end in fire.

You take his hand, and James helps you down. For a moment, there is no sound other than the roar of the flames and the shrill whistle of the icy wind. 

“She is small.” The voice is heavy with age, and rife with irritation. “It will not be her.” You turn to see the stooped Orc step out from the crowd of onlookers. She leans heavily on the staff she carries, the top adorned with an assortment of feathers and tiny, white bones. James does not look away from you. 

“The fire will tell.” 

He pushes your bridal robe from your shoulders, undoing the tie around your waist. The cloth falls to the ground, leaving you naked. You are not cold, though, not this close to the fire. The veil he leaves on, and the fabric whispers against your bare ankles. The old Orc hobbles closer, peering at you with her one good eye. 

“You know what to do.” 

You do—you step into the fire. It burns—burns hotter than anything you have ever known—

But there is no pain. You open your eyes. All around you is light, beautiful, glorious light. You lift an arm, and flames dance along your skin, leaving trails of radiant heat. You raise your arms above your head with a shout. They should have burnt me in the village. You imagine the streets burning bright with your flames. 

Something is changed in you, something opened, something broken free, something you’d never even known was caged inside you. You are the fire, it is you—

The old Orc slams the staff against the ground with a sound like thunder,  and the flames cool to embers as you drop your arms, panting. You are giddy with power, your heart beating in your chest as fiercely as the flames. 

“Fire-sign.” She draws symbols on your face in red ichor, and matching ones on James. Her scarred mouth twists into a smile as she pulls the veil from you. “Burn brightly.”  

James gathers you in his arms, lifting you with ease. He makes for one of the tents, pushing aside the heavy canvas hanging over the opening. James spills you unceremoniously onto the furs by the small fire, ripping at his clothes as he sets upon you with his hungry hands and mouth.

“Knew it would be you,” he mumbles as he lowers his mouth to yours. “Could smell the smoke on your skin.” 

Gods you burn as he kisses you. You are no longer standing in the fire but you feel it in your veins still, like it’s part of you. Your head swims as though you’d drunk your share of mead, James’ touch only adding to the dizzying rush of sensation. He kneels down between your legs, his eyes dark as he drags them down your writhing body. He licks his lips.

“My fire-sign.” He cups your cunt with one massive hand, trailing a thick finger along your slit. From the bits of hushed gossip you’d overheard from the older women in the village, wifely duties were to be penitently endured, you were to feel pain and discomfort, not this, this—

Fire.

James parts your thighs until they are wide enough to accommodate him, and he bends low. The whites of his eyes barely visible as he stares at your slick center. 

“What better wedding gift?” He says lowly, tugging your hips roughly forward until you can feel his breath on your cunt. 

You lick your lips. “And what is mine?” You ask, and James laughs. You keen as he licks a long, hot stripe up your soaked slit. 

“What would you ask of me?”

“Burn the village.” There are two voices coming from your throat when you speak. There is you, the you you know, the you you have always been—

And there is the fire. 

The thing of smoke and passion and rage in your skin now, too. 

“Leave nothing standing.”

James lowers his head to your sticky core, and wraps his arms around your thighs anchoring you to his face as he feasts. His tongue slides hungrily through your slick folds, and your eyes fly open a your hips roll of their own accord. You come apart then, shuddering and whining, but he doesn’t stop. Your hands tangle in his dark hair, pulling at his ceremonial braids as he tastes you till you’re dizzy. James finally relinquishes his hold, and when he rises his chin is wet with your pleasure. 

“You wish me to wage war, little wife?” He asks, reaching between your bodies to palm his cock. You can’t look away. “To spend fire and blood for you?”

You nod. 

“For that, I will require more than a marriage of convenience,” he replies, and you shiver as he taps the head of his cock against you with a slick, sticky noise. You whimper as he circles one of your nipples with his thumb. “I want more than just your body, understand, little bride?” His hand spans half the length of your belly it’s so big, and you stare wide eyed down at his cock. 

“I will have all of you.” James growls down at you. “Not part.” You whine as he pushes against you, the blunt head of his cock pressing inside with a pop.  Your lips fall open, a strangled moan escaping them. James’ claws dig into your hip, and he utters a curse. You’re already so full of him, you don’t know how more can fit, but James works his hips against yours, rutting shamelessly against you until you swear you’re choking on him. 

The ache is so sweet it brings tears to your eyes. 

“Y-yes!” 

He draws out, leaving you almost empty before filling you with a hard thrust. James moans low in his throat, his head falling back. He cups your face with one hand, dragging his thumb across your lips. You rake your fingers over his muscled chest and he grits his teeth, driving into you harder, curling over you as he presses your knees against your chest. 

Your breaths escape you in choked little mewls, your fingers digging into his shoulders as he drowns you in pleasure again, and the fire in your veins swells, consuming you. Behind him, the fire blazes more brightly than ever before, and  James looses a low growl, his cock pulsing inside of you.

“Then you will have war, little queen,” he says, nosing down the side of your jaw. He nips at your throat, hard enough to bruise.

You smile. 

[freakrenaissance]

Oh, yes. Burn them all! I loooooved this!

[luna-azzurra]

Types of Magical Healing!! (a guide for your magic system)

⤷ herbal remedy 𓆙 mundane-adjacent, slow but low-risk. requires actual preparation, gathering the right plants, brewing it correctly, timing it right. This is the "grandmother's kitchen" magic, unglamorous but reliable, and a character using this well signals patience and real knowledge, NOT raw power.

⤷ blood healing 𓆙 fast and powerful, but it ties the healer's own vitality directly to the patient's recovery. The faster and more dramatic the healing, the more it costs the healer personally, sometimes literally draining years off their own life. Great for a desperate, last-resort scene where a healer has to decide how much of themselves they're willing to give away.

⤷ restorative rite 𓆙 ceremonial, structured, and usually requires several practitioners working in sync. This one's less about individual skill and more about coordination, timing, and trust between the people performing it, which makes it perfect for group scenes where something can go wrong if even one person breaks focus.

⤷ song healing 𓆙 uses voice or music to mend, and it's genuinely effective, but it demands sustained focus the entire time. The moment the song breaks, the healing stops, so this creates great tension in any scene where something might interrupt the healer mid-note.

⤷ touch healing 𓆙 a direct transfer of energy through physical contact, and it visibly drains the healer while it's happening. This one's intimate by nature, bc it requires actual proximity and contact, so it's great for building tension between two characters who otherwise wouldn't be touching.

⤷ ancestral healing 𓆙 calls on family spirits or bloodline magic, and it only works within that specific lineage. This is a great limiter for plot purposes, bc it means a character can't just heal anyone, only their own blood, which raises the stakes the second an outsider needs help.

⤷ elemental healing 𓆙 channels natural forces like water or earth, and it's location-dependent, meaning a healer's power shifts depending on where they are. A water healer stranded in a desert is suddenly almost powerless, which is a great source of tension in any journey-based plot.

⤷ curse-breaking 𓆙 technically not healing, it's the removal of a magical affliction at its root instead of treating the symptoms. This one's interesting bc it often requires understanding exactly how and why the curse was cast in the first place, which can turn a healing scene into a whole mini-mystery.

[diviniyae]

heart dividers

credit not needed. recoloring welcomed. feel free to edit as you need!

[valsworldofcreativity]

Soo beautiful & adorable!!

[angrythingstarlight]

Bee ❤️ https://www.facebook.com/reel/1925860494443898?fs=e&s=TIeQ9V&mibextid=AFL5iP

That's Bee whenever she hears Bucky ask where his favorite girl is. Bee will stop whatever she's doing and run off to find him with a happy little, "I'm here Papa. You needs me?"

Pairing: Mafia!Bucky x Reader, Daughter nicknamed Bumblebee.

WC: Less than 800.

CW: Brief mention of spiders, so much fluff.

AN: Part of the Bumblebee series.

*The first time, she heard him say that, she had been napping by her mama.*

“No, it has to be done by Monday or we’ll have to push back the opening for the casino. No, that’s not my problem. Figure it out. And tell Steve I’ll be there at 10,” Bucky mutters distractedly, pushing the door open with his shoulder, and running his hand through his mussed hair.

His tired gaze immediately hones in on your face, your profile barely visible in the dim light as you lay on your side. The soothing scents of lavender and vanilla surround him as he steps inside.

A smile tugs at his lips and that familiar rush, he can only describe it as a jolt of pure happiness, he gets whenever he lays his eyes on you surges through him, making his heart race.

Suddenly, this conversation is no longer important.

“I have to go. Make sure Steve gets my message.” He hangs up, tossing his phone on the dresser.

You stir, stretching your arm over your head with a soft groan. Bucky loosens his tie, strolling across the room.

“I don’t think you know I much I missed you. Couldn’t focus on a single thing this afternoon because I kept thinking about you,” he murmurs, more to himself than you, as he approaches the bed. “I’ve been waiting all day to see my favorite girl.”

You turn your head, lips parting to respond when two little hands grab your arm and a sleepy Bee pulls herself up.

“Hi Papa. I was waiting for you too,” she yawns. You bite back a laugh, rolling over to face Bucky. “We missed you so much,” she continues, dropping her chin on your shoulder, a drowsy grin on her face.

"So much," you chime in.

Sometimes he wonders how he got so lucky to have you two in his life. His smile widens until it matches hers. Bucky plants his hands beside you and he places a kiss on Bee’s forehead before moving to you, slowly brushing his lips over yours like he can’t quite get enough of you.

“You two have a good day?”

“Yeah, I has so much fun Papa.” Her head lolls across your shoulder, and she climbs over you, plopping down beside your stomach.

“We had a great day,” you respond, a hint of laughter curling around your tone. Cupping his cheek. Bucky leans into your touch, his soft beard grazing your palm, another kiss placed on your skin.

He slides in next to the two of you, his long arm draped over your side with Bee in the middle, her bright gaze moving between you. She continues to talk as Bucky adjusts the pillow under your head before settling.

“We mades some pwetty art for your office and I gots a new book and—and I saw a ‘pider. Mommy scweamed so loud,” she laughs, wiggling closer to you.

His brow lifts, the did you so apparent in his playful expression that you roll your eyes in response. “I mean, I might have shouted but anyone would have," you say with a sniff. "The thing was trying to attack me."

“Me and Mr. Tato saved you. Right mommy?” Bee interjects with a proud grin, her adorable chubby cheeks jutting out.

Bucky’s brow inches up even more.Amusement blooming in his gaze as he takes in the two of you.

In your defense, you were minding your own business, painting in your studio when the spider decided it was going to swing down and land right on your shirt, startling you. You had just started to swipe at it when Bee waddled over, launching her stuffed dino at you with a fierce “get him Mr. Tato.”

Which technically saved you because it knocked the spider to the floor, far away from you.

She spent the rest of the afternoon protecting you while you finished your painting, taking her bodyguard duties very seriously. You can’t wait to show Bucky the video you took of her standing guard in her bear onesie. You both stopped after a couple of hours to take a much needed nap and wait for Bucky to come home.

“Yes, you did sweet Bee." Her face lights up when you drop a kiss on her head. "Why don’t you tell your Papa about the new drawings you made for him and how one of them is going on the wall?”

Her attention turns to him and she describes what she made. Bucky intertwines his fingers between yours, his thumb sweeping across the back of your hand in lazy patterns. He attentively listens to Bee tell him all about her art, encouraging her excitement with the occasional question. You watch as the stress melts off him in waves, leaving only serene happiness simmering in his deep blue eyes.

This is exactly what he needed after the day he had. His family beside him, his entire world in his arms, reminding him of what matters most to him.

[angrythingstarlight]

Bumblebee is a little bodyguard for her papa but maybe even her mommy. If she sees a guy flirting with her mom she’s gonna step in and try pushing him away

You told him that he can't threaten every man that flirts with you. Now Bucky knows you love him as much as he loves you, he's not worried about you cheating on him or anything like that. He's just a little territorial when it comes to you.

And he did not get to where he is without being creative. So when you forbade him from maiming Lloyd, one of the new investors at the gallery, after he got a little too close for the mobster's liking, he decided to take a different tactic.

One that happens to involve a sweet, chubby toddler currently singing how far I'll go to her puppy.

Now Bee thinks it's her job to keep you safe. And anyone her Papa doesn't like, she doesn't like which means no one flirts with her mama.

[allthingswhumpyandangsty]

Fanfic writers, reblog if you’re okay with people sharing the links to your fics to their friends and/or for fic rec posts without having to ask for your permission first

(I saw a debate about whether or not it was okay for people to share fic links around without asking the authors first, since some authors may not be comfortable with the links to their fics being shared around on twitter or tumblr. so I thought this post could be a blanket permission for authors who were okay with the links to their fics being shared around!)

[quotefeeling]

“I finally understood what true love meant. Love meant that you cared for another person’s happiness more than your own, no matter how painful the choices you face may be.”

— Unknown