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sinner-as-saint · 2 years ago

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heartless

Incubus!Bucky x Witch!reader (fantasy au)

Run-through: You learnt about them when you were young. You had tomes filled with information about them, how to invite one, how to control one, etc. You also knew that if done right, union with an incubus was said to result in the birth of powerful witches. And now, after having spent years all alone following the unfortunate slaughter of your family you have two strong desires; to have a child and to continue the witch bloodline. Both of which can be fulfilled by summoning and making the right arrangements with the right incubus. And the best part of it all, incubi were known to be incapable of love and emotional attachment, so ending the arrangement once you conceived wouldn’t be hard for either parties involved. Except, it’s not always that easy, is it? And perhaps, not all incubi are heartless.

Themes: breeding kink, smut, fluff, incubus!bucky, witch!reader, size difference, he has wings and a tail, some angst, HEA

a/n: nothing is folklore accurate whatsoever just excessive imagination and vibes hehe

You were prepared if ever it was not going to work the first time.

You’d been told, when you were a young woman who had just begun learning about the art of witchcraft under your mother and grandmother’s supervision, that incubi were particularly stubborn and picky demons. They were strong, seductive with vigorous stamina.

Given their power, they aren’t summoned. No. They are invited. And if they are feeling mischievous and generous, they accept the invitation. Sure, most incubi visited weak mortals of their own volition however they did avoid witches. Because the power dynamic there was more or less in equilibrium. Incubi couldn’t mess with witches like they did with mortals because witches were strong and smart enough to mess with them right back.

Still, you had made sure that everything was just perfect. You had countless tomes and books and scrolls on your table, all containing multiple ways of inviting an incubus. So many rules to follow. But you had done everything right; every rune, every herb, every incantation, every offering - to complete the invitation you had always been taught to lure them with something they’d want. Other than sex.

You had been told certain secrets other witch families did not know. Like how incubi, though ravenous, had a weakness for embellishment. Trinkets. Shiny things. So you offered this one a crown made of gilded animal bones.

You had everything in place. All that was left to do was wait. So you sat there, in what you called your workshop. You had a quiet little home in the middle of the woods. Well away from the kingdom of the vile King who had your entire family eliminated after using your powers and cures to save his wife from a terrible disease. For years the King was kind to your family, but one day, his wife died of natural causes, none of your doing but still, the King went mad and ordered to have your family slain. You managed to escape, unfortunately your mother and grandmother couldn’t.

So you ran far, far away from the kingdom. Got on a ship and travelled to a new country. Here people were welcoming and kind. No kings and queens, just people living together in harmony. So with what little money you had, you bought a plot of land and built a house. You had neighbours, but since you all had a large country all to yourselves, everyone was scattered rather far and wide from one another.

This country was unlike anything you’d ever heard or dreamt about. You had friends here who did similar things like you; warlocks, necromancers. Then there were the mermaids in the lake, and the fae people living in the same woods as you, centaurs and wolf shifters lived deeper in the woods, and so many more you still had to meet. There were no wars here, just peace.

But peace, after some years, started looking a lot like loneliness. During the initial years it seemed like you could do this forever, run your little shop, help your new friends when they needed you, socialise and learn about so many new people and animals, you thought you could spend a lifetime just being here and being happy. But then, as much as you adored your friends and neighbours, you missed family. Your own flesh and blood. And after years of living here and making sure that this was the happiest and safest place to have a family of your own, you wanted a child. And what better way of ensuring to pass on the gifts of your powerful bloodline than this. Besides, witches lived for a very, very long time and you couldn’t imagine spending centuries all alone.

You had envisioned your dream life often. Since witches most often had daughters, you often dreamt of you and your daughter living in this lovely place. Your home was spacious enough to accommodate around five people easily so you’d have more than enough space. You would build your daughter her own little workshop table. You’d teach her everything your mother and grandmother taught you, and all that you learnt by yourself. You’d watch her grow up and make friends of her own, maybe she’d like the faeries and the mermaids more. Or maybe even the gnomes. Or the pegasus in the meadows.

Maybe someday down the line you’d have another child. And you’d raise them both with the same kindness and love that your mother had with you. And life would be perfect then; with your girls, your friends, in this peaceful country.

If only…

“Such pretty dreams you’re having, little witch.”

A deep, smooth voice said. Sounding like it wasn’t too far from where you were… sleeping? Had you actually fallen asleep at your desk while waiting? You woke up startled, blinking at the demon in the room who was casually lounging on the chair by the window. The same chair on which you sat and read during the afternoons.

Except, the demon made the chair look smaller than it was. The chair still accommodated him well enough, but he was bigger. Broad shoulders, wide leathery wings folded behind him, long legs… he was surely taller than most of the people here. Shorter than the giants, but still. You had read that incubi were bigger in height and built and… other assets when compared to mortal men but seeing him in real life was still a little shocking.

Every other feature of his was mortal-like. Deep blue eyes, slightly darker here in your candlelit workshop. Pretty face, you noticed, if not a little arrogant looking but it suited him. Well defined features. Soft mouth, perfect nose. And he was slightly tanned. You thought he’d be ghostly white, with near translucent skin given there wasn’t any sun in the depths of hell that he came from. He also had shadowy, near black markings all over his hands, chest and some creeping up his neck. Swirls and symbols, and it only made him look even more dangerously attractive.

The candlelight reflected a little on the shinier parts of his large, leathery wings and you shivered a little before speaking, after clearing your throat. “You came.” You simply said and watched how his mouth twisted into a handsome smirk.

“How could I not?” He said, sounding cocky. “You gave me a proper invitation. And offered me such a pretty crown,” He twirled the gilded crown between his fingers, and added, “And such soft, delicious bread.”

Your face contorted in confusion at the sound of that. “Bread?”

He nodded, still toying with the handmade crown, “Forgive me, I didn’t save you any. I was famished. Butter and honey, was it?” His voice sounded like a purr, like a lover’s caress. Dangerous he was, this one. The handsome ones usually are if you remember your notes correctly.

You blinked at him once, twice and then looked down at your hand and sure enough, there it was - remnants of the butter. You had been nibbling on homemade bread as you waited earlier, but given that you fell asleep at your desk, the bread must have fallen out of your hand, rolled and landed near the runes. Had you messed up? You couldn’t have. He was here, wasn’t he?

The demon gave you another arrogant grin, “I assume the bread was a mistake.”

You stood up from your chair and thought well before speaking, “I apologise.” You said. Even though it is always said to never seem shy and docile in front of the likes of him. You were supposed to assert dominance. But… how could you when he was looking at you like that? Himself looking all regal in all his naked glory.

He chuckled. Chuckled. Then said, “No matter.” You noticed he remained seated. He said, “I heard your invitation, heard what you wanted from me.” He paused for just a second and noticed the way you squirmed. Then continued, “I appreciate your gifts, witch.” He admitted. “So,” He spoke in the voice which was equivalent to a lover’s soft caress again, “A child?”

“Yes,” You said firmly, finally able to stand your ground and act like the powerful witch that you were. “A child.”

He nodded slowly, “I can’t say I’ve ever encountered a motherly sorceress before. Most of them are nasty and cruel.” He spoke with such honesty. It was refreshing almost.

You managed a faint smile as you looked down at the rings on your fingers, many of them were passed down to you, the others you had handcrafted, “Most of us develop a hard exterior because of how we are treated by most mortals. Half of them are afraid of us and the other half despises us enough to hurt us for no reason.”

He cocked his head to the side, “Who hurt you?”

“A King. He… hurt my family.” You answered.

“Hence the empty house.” He noted.

“Yes.” You said, finally looking up to meet his deep blue stare. He was… devilishly handsome. Even as he sat there looking all princely which should’ve irritated you because it was your favourite chair. What if his devilishly strong body breaks it?

But then…

Then he stood up. Proud and tall. Other parts of him stood proud and tall as well so you couldn’t help but look down, following the many muscles on his broad chest, down to his navel and down to his jutting cock.

Holy gods.

He was very, very well endowed. It took some seconds before you moved your shamelessly leering gaze up to his eyes again. And then… holy gods, he was tall. Taking up much more room now that he was standing up in the middle of your, what now seemed cramped, workshop.

He smirked as he looked down at you. Crossing his muscular arms over his chest he said, “I assume I am to your liking then?” He teased, obviously enjoying the way he had you tongue-tied.

You looked up at him nervously. You’d never done this before. And now, standing in your dimly lit workshop, wearing your black flowy black robe, the demon did make you feel a little subservient. “I… um, yes.” You struggled to answer, struggled to hold his lordly stare.

You mindlessly took a step back the moment he began approaching you. Steadily, slowly, letting you see all of him before he came to a stop only inches away from where you stood, near your desk.

“Well then, little witch. Shall we?” He said, before placing his warm hands on either side of your waist and lifted you up to set you down on the edge of the desk with ease. You never quite realised how strong incubi were until now. They were some of the strongest demons of Hell.

You were sat on the edge of your wooden desk, legs dangling off the edge as you looked up at him. Only then did you notice his slender tail, as it wrapped around your thigh which was now exposed due to the slit in your black robe.

The demon seemed to inhale deeply before saying, “You smell absolutely delicious.” He stepped in between your legs, spreading them as he placed both of his hands on either one of your thighs. “May I have a taste?” He asked, slowly pushing your back down on the surface of the table so you lay on it, with your legs still hanging off the edge.

You nodded. “Yes,” You murmured, watching him lean over you for a moment before he pulled your robe up to your waist, taking in the sight of your bare body under it.

He hummed in appreciation which shouldn’t have made your body tingle the way it did. Then he grabbed you by the hips and lifted your lower body off the table with ease, enough so that he could comfortably bend and place his mouth right where you didn’t realise you’d been aching for him to touch.

Your legs hooked easily over his shoulders as his ridiculously soft lips brushed against your inner thighs before you felt his warm, long tongue slide in between your wet lips. He somehow managed to spread your legs even more, leaving you completely at his monstrous mercy as his tongue teasing your entrance, lips sucking on your clit. Damn him. But at least now you understand why most people let incubi feed on them. It’s because their touch was this addicting.

Your hands rested on either side of your head, limp on the table as you threw your head back and moaned, unable to stop yourself. He growled against you, sending pleasurable vibrations all over your body. His tail remained wrapped around your thigh, slithering along your skin in tandem with his devious tongue as he ate you out ravenously, savouring your taste while holding your heated stare.

His strong body in contrast with your more mortal-looking one. His hands and arms, covered in those shadowy markings gripped your thighs securely, keeping you spread open for him. He almost made you forget the reason he was here was beyond just pleasuring you. “You taste exquisite, little witch.”

He knew he could only take minimal energy from you. Mortals were left drained after incubi were done with them but you were stronger, and with your protective wards around you, you didn’t feel as drained. Neither did he feed on you like he would on a mortal. Still, you felt a little delirious, almost euphoric as he tasted you.

You gasped and moaned as he almost made you come all over his tongue. You’d let yourself go under his irresistible touch. It was high time to get to business. “Don’t forget why you’re here, demon.” You managed to say before he slid his tongue inside you once more before pulling away and placing your lower body back on the wooden table.

“Of course. You need more than just my tongue, little witch.” He teased, keeping your legs wide open for him as he reached down and easily tore the rest of your robe off your body. You noticed his eyes got darker as he grabbed and fondled your breasts.

His shadow filled hands slowly trailed down your bare body. He reached your folds and once again teased your clit with his fingers, slowly sliding his one finger down your slit to your opening. His other hand grabbed his cock, guiding it over to your hole. You were drenched down there, he noticed. He was in a mood to play so instead of just sliding into you, he teased you by sliding his tip up and down your slit.

He rather enjoyed watching you hiss, and whine and whimper, and squirm on the tabletop. “You are going to have to put in some effort to fit me inside you.” He said, purposely pushing his tip against your tight opening, just applying enough pressure to make you lose your mind but not quite enough to slide in just yet.

Your voice trembled as you spoke, “Don’t… don’t play with me, demon.” You tried to sound as assertive as you could. But you ended up sounding like you were begging him to keep playing.

“No?” He cooed, almost in a mocking tone. “But you make such pretty sounds when I play with you.”

You arched your back, moving your hips forward, desperately trying to get his cock to slide inside you. You whimpered when he kept teasing you. “Please,” You murmured. Damn this demon and his enchanting touch.

He smirked. “Very well then.” He slowly pushed the tip of his cock inside of you, carefully watching you to gauge your reaction to his size. You felt his length stretching you like no one ever did. You gasped and moaned as he filled you up.

He grabbed your bent legs and spread them open, pushing them as far back as they would go before burying his cock fully inside your tight, warm hole. He held your stare the entire time, even as he pulled out and pushed back into you.

You gasped for air, the snugness of him feeling unbearably good. With your back flat against the wooden table top and you whined at the feeling of his cock moving swiftly in and out of you. You could feel your walls gripping him and milking him as he pounded into you.

“You feel just as good as you taste, little one.” He whispered as you threw your head back and moaned, feeling him moving in and out of you to the point where the only thing you could focus on was the snug way he felt inside you.

His large hands grabbed you by the hips, lifting your lower body just inches off the table and pulling you in each time he pushed inside you with enough force to drive you insane. Then… then you felt something pressing against your clit, rubbing it in sync with how he moved against you. His tail. The flat end of it, sliding across your sensitive clit while he fucked you.

You cried out loud, somehow managing to hold his stare as you slowly felt your brain getting foggy with intense pleasure.

“Look,” He whispered, pounding into you relentlessly, as he lowered his gaze to your lower abdomen. You followed his gaze and let out a gasp of both surprise and bliss. You watched how each time he pushed into you, a soft bulge formed against your stomach. “You’re so soft and delicate.” He said, his voice steady and calm as if he wasn’t rutting into you like an animal.

Mindlessly, you placed your hand right where the bulge formed each time and you felt it against the palm of your hand. You cried out in pleasure again.Your legs trembled as he held them spread open for him, not willing to let them go yet.

You closed your eyes as you felt your walls clenching around him and the pressure around your lower body felt tight and hot. The handsome demon looked down to where you clenched around his cock. And he sped up, moving the desk along with his thrust and causing books and scrolls and pens to fall carelessly on the ground.

Somehow, it felt like he fucked you deeper now. Faster. His damned tail moved against you in equal vigour, flicking your clit until you cried out again. He chuckled, watching you nearly come undone beneath him. So he leaned in and said, “Should I fill you up nicely now, little one?”

His voice, the surprising warmth of his body, the feeling of him inside you, the candlelight which made him look like a wild god. You whined, and said, “Yes, please.”

He smirked, letting go of your legs and instead leaned over your body so he could get close to your mouth. His hand grabbed your wrists and pinned them down on the table, above your head. This close, your breaths mingled. His heated stare, his warm body pressing against yours while his other hand reached up to toy with your breast. “So soft,” He whispered.

For some reason, that was all that you needed to hear, all the stimulation you needed to come undone, clenching around him violently as you did. He held your stare through it all and soon after, he spilled inside you too, grunting and gasping for air.

Your back arched off the wooden table as you felt his warm release filling you up. He pulled out a little and pushed inside you one more time before stopping, properly emptying himself inside you. You were still whimpering and moaning as he pulled out. You could feel his release slowly trickling out of you.

You closed your eyes for a few moments. And you fully expected him to be gone by the time you caught your breath and opened your eyes. But there he still was.

He picked you up from the table, cradled you in his arms and asked, “Where’s your bed?”

You lifted a shaky hand and pointed in the general direction of your bedroom, just outside your workshop and he began walking towards it. He stopped outside the dark doors and nudged them open with his broad shoulder, walking into your bedroom.

No one had ever been in here. Wherever you had your neighbours and friends over for dinner or the afternoon tea, you hosted them in the kitchen or the other rooms. He was the first person to ever walk into your bedroom and honestly, he didn’t look that out of place.

Your bedroom was spacious, mainly dark except for some candles which thanks to your magic could be left unattended and would never burn your house down.

“Here,” He placed you down in the middle of your bed and said, “I’ll take your leave now, little witch.” He spoke, smirking as he let his eyes roam your bare body one last time before turning around.

You reached out and grabbed his wrist before he would fully turn away. You managed to say, voice a little raspier now after all that moaning and gasping earlier, “You… um, in case this doesn’t work the first time around,” You spoke, hoping he read in between the lines, “And if I find myself in need of your, uh, help again. Would you come if I call?”

He grinned. “Of course. No need for shiny crowns next time, just leave out some warm bread.” He left you with a playful wink and a handsome smirk. And then just like that, as if the shadows of your room swallowed him whole, he disappeared.

—

For the following week that passed by, you paid extra attention to your body and with the help of your magic, you’d know if conception occurred. But also, you couldn’t bring yourself to forget the demon.

He’d been just as energetic and thorough as you expected him to be. But… he had also been much more gentle than you expected him to be. The bread incident made you giggle quietly to yourself now that you thought about it. And you did think about it each time you baked.

You were extra nervous the next time you sent out an invitation to him. The conception hadn’t happened, as expected because they rarely work the first time. Which meant that you needed the demon again. So as you waited for him to show up, awake this time, you found yourself feeling unnecessarily giddy.

You not only tried to lure him with your best bread this time, but also a cloak. Not that you minded his naked form but… you felt the need to give him something nice. Not quite like a payment, just a gift if you will. You had made the cloak in a way to accommodate his wings comfortably as well. And those broad shoulders, and strong limbs, and-

You were lost in thoughts of him when a voice spoke up from the corner of the room, “A cloak this time,” He noted, grinning already. “I think you like me quite a lot, little witch.”

You smiled at him. Your heart almost skipped a beat at the sight of him. The handsome demon came wearing the crown you’d made him the last time. And he looked like a god. Naked, golden skin, shiny crown, dark wings and those shadowy markings all over his skin.

“It’s just a way of thanking you for, you know, helping me.”

You didn’t feel so nervous when he approached you this time. You let him come closer until he was standing in between your legs again as you sat on the edge of your desk. He placed his large, warm hands on your thighs as if it were a habit and his tail wrapped around your calf, squeezing just a little to remind you of last time. You shivered at the memory.

“But do you?” He asked playfully.

“What?”

He gave you a cocky grin. “Like me?”

Well that came out of nowhere. You chuckled, “Yes. I wouldn't have sought you out again if I didn’t.”

He smirked. Then reached out to touch your face so gently that for a moment you forgot he was a demon from Hell. “I take it that you need me to fill you up again, little witch?” He asked so brazenly, while your face felt hot.

You managed to say, despite your racing heart, “I do. And I’ve even come up with a plan in order to ensure that it works this time.”

He raised an eyebrow at you, “What plan?”

Your face heated up again as you said, “I suppose for it to work this time around, maybe you shouldn’t, um, pull away so soon after…”

“Ah.” The demon’s smirk denoted that he understood. “I see.” He said, “So you wish for me to remain buried deep inside that tight warmth of yours after I’ve filled you up.” He said, purposely just so he could watch you squirm. “I can do that.”

A sudden confidence shot through you, “Good. That is precisely why you are here, demon.” You sassed.

The demon chuckled before reaching out to grab you carefully by the jaw. His actions were slow and gentle, as if worried he might accidentally hurt you. “Careful with that mouth of yours.” He hissed playfully, “Don’t you know what happens to pretty little witches when they run their mouths like this?”

You held his stare, playing along, “No.” You whispered, “What happens to them?”

He leaned in and whispered against the corner of your mouth in a sinful voice, “They get pinned to the wall and fucked until they cannot think straight.”

You felt your heart racing faster. Your thighs desperately wanted to clench together but he wouldn’t let that happen. His tail slowly moved up and down your leg, stroking your skin and making you crave his touch even more. It wasn’t supposed to feel like this, right? You were supposed to just take what you needed from one another and that should’ve been it. But… you didn’t mind this.

His mouth moved along your cheek and you lost your ability to speak. He kissed along your jaw and down your neck, then he said, “I can hear your heart racing, my little witch. Tell me, is that what you want?” He kissed along your collar bones and the top of your breasts. “Do you want to be pinned to the wall and fucked by a cruel, greedy demon like me? Hmm?”

“Yes…” You managed to whimper. “Please.”

He scoffed, kissing his way back up your neck before he reached your mouth again, “Alright, little one.” He breathed against your parted lips and moved the two of you with such ease and speed that all you did was blink and you found yourself away from the desk and now naked and pinned to the nearby wall, bare legs wrapped around his torso and his mouth pressed against yours.

His wings spread wide behind him, blocking the candlelight from reaching the two of you and shrouding you both in unnatural shadows. Almost as if he couldn’t bear the thought of anything else touching you except for him and his darkness. Not even light.

Your hands wrapped around his broad shoulders, pressing you tightly against his firm body as his mouth moved against yours. His tongue slipped into your mouth, making you moan into the kiss as he undid the tie of your robe, letting it slip down your body until it fell to the floor.

His large hand cupped you in between your legs and he pulled away from the kiss, grinning at you like the Devil himself. “All that for me?” He asked, sliding his knuckles along your wet folds, smearing your arousal around. “How very immoral of you. Spreading your legs and getting all wet for someone like me.”

You whined when he slid a finger inside you, followed by another before he curled his fingers inside of you, hitting all the right spots which make you weak in the knees. You bucked your hips against his hand involuntarily, and he chuckled as you moaned out loud while he touched you.

“Are you ready for me now?” He mumbled, kissing down your neck, nibbling on your skin around your collar bones.

“Yes,” You cried out when he wrapped his mouth around your breast, sucking just enough to drive you wild, making you grind your hips against him, chasing whatever friction you could get.

His cock briefly brushed against your wet folds in the process and you whimpered. You felt his body tense up against you as well and a quick moment later, he aligned his tip to your dripping wet hole and slowly pushed in.

His fingers dug into your skin as he held you by your hips, and yours scratched at his shoulders as he filled you up like the previous time, making you whine and moan as he went. His body was familiar now. His heat, his scent. The sound of him breathing, his warm chest pressing against yours. And when you looked down, you already knew you’d find that bulge forming against your stomach each time he buried himself all the way inside of you.

When he began rocking in and out of you, your body remembered. The stretch of his thickness, the snugness of him, the way he started out with slow strokes and then gradually sped up into you. It was all familiar. Except this time, you could feel his back muscles moving along with each thrust of his. Each movement of his reminding you of the sheer power his sinful body contained.

“You feel even better than last time, little one.” He said as his devious tail reached up and wrapped around one of your breasts, pumping it before moving to the other one, and repeated.

His strong arms supported you up by grabbing you at the curve of your ass, holding you against him, as he sped up into you. He fucked you relentlessly, with a little less caution this time. Your back hit the wall with each thrust and you couldn’t stop whimpering, whining and moaning as he fucked into you with the intensity only a demon like him could.

Your hands somehow slid beyond his shoulders, grabbing onto the base of his large, dark wings. He stilled. Then supported you up with one hand thanks to his devilish strength, while the other pulled your sneaky hands away from his wings and pinned them above your head. He began fucking you again and said, flirtatiously warning you, “Wings are extremely sensitive.”

That only intrigued you even more, but all that for later. You needed him right now. And you needed to come.

He leaned in and nibbled at the skin under your ear and you lost all control you had left. Your thoughts became cloudy and all you could focus on was how his body brought you immense pleasure, your mind a foggy mess. Your clit rubbed against his stomach each time he buried himself completely in you, and he soon quickened his pace, earning even more moans and gasps from you.

Your legs started to shake around him as he quickened his pace, pounding into you relentlessly. The pleasure built nicely as he took you higher. The bulge in your stomach forming and disappearing quicker now. Your moans were wanton.

“Ready for me to fill you up again, little one? Hmm? You’re going to be so full after this,” He whispered, leaning in just so his mouth would brush against yours as he spoke. “Perhaps you’ll still feel me in between your legs when you wake up tomorrow. Is that what you want? Huh? Is that why a pretty little witch like you invited a filthy beast like me? Because you wanted to be so full.”

You couldn’t hold back anymore. So, you came undone around his thickness. Walls clenching around him, nails scratching down his shoulders and chest as loud moans escaped your mouth. He came right after you did, cock throbbing against your pulsating walls before he filled you up with his warm release. Pumped you full of it until you could feel it inside you.

And just like you’d instructed him earlier, he didn’t pull away immediately. He caught his breath for a few moments before he moved, keeping you pressed against his chest, still buried deep inside you he pulled away from the wall and walked out of your workshop, towards your bedroom.

You felt a soft pinch inside your chest at the thought of him being so comfortable with moving around in your house.

He opened the bedroom door, still holding you close to him as he carefully laid the two of you in your bed. He barely fit in your bed which was in fact made to hold two people. He pressed closer to you as you both laid on your sides facing each other. “Are you alright, little one?” He asked softly. With genuine care.

You blinked at him lazily, feeling boneless because he’d worn you out. “Hmm, I’m alright.” You whispered, feeling his tail stroking your leg as if comforting you while his hands held you close to him.

He gave you a rare, soft smile. Then said, “Tell me about your shop.”

You smiled and answered, “Well, it’s a typical witch shop. I sell crystals, candles, herbs, and medicine. The children get hurt often, especially when they play in these woods, so I sell stuff that heals them even quicker. I have special crystals, laced with magic to help my friends shift quicker. The mermaids love them. The dragon folks up on the mountains love them too. The wolves wear them around their necks like necklaces.” You paused, “Why do you ask?”

He shrugged, the movement also moving him while he was inside you so you whimpered in pleasure. He pulled you closer, kissing your forehead as if apologising and answered, “I’m just curious about your community here. It all seems so… peaceful.” He said.

“It is.” You gave him a faint smile. “Everyone is welcomed here. A family of moth people just moved in down the creek. They have the most adorable little children.” You giggled. “And-,” You stopped abruptly at the sight of the longing and slight envy in his eyes. “What is it?” You asked, sensing the shift in his demeanour. He seemed sad.

He gave you a faint, fake smile. “I’m just thinking about how nice it must be. To be accepted for being whatever you are. To have friends and not have people look at you and run away screaming.”

Your heart ached for the handsome demon. You reached out and laid a hand on his cheek. “I’m sorry.” You whispered, sincerely. “Is it that bad where you’re from?”

“It’s lonely.” He answered truthfully. You knew the feeling all too well.

Your thumb instinctively began stroking his smooth cheek. “And you can’t leave.” You stated, suddenly feeling very bad for the demon.

“Oh we can leave. I know a few of my kind who have left and moved elsewhere, but it’s not common.” He said, “There are not many places where beings like me are accepted.” Then he smiled and said, “I’m not like you, little witch. I have no skills. There’s nothing I can do to contribute to a lovely community like this one and have its people accept me as one of their own.”

You chuckled, “Well, I’m sure we could find something for you to do.” You said, “You have wings and can move at incredible speed, maybe you could be a mail carrier.”

He laughed. Truly laugh, louder than he ever had. And he looked like a god while he did. His boyish laughter echoed around your bedroom and if you could bottle up the sound and keep it forever, you would.

When he finally stopped and looked back at you, you could’ve sworn you saw something resembling affection in his eyes. “You truly are something, little witch. I’m very glad I met you.” For some reason, his words felt like goodbye.

And then it hit you. If you managed to conceive this time, maybe this would be goodbye. You snuggled closer to him, refusing to think about that right now, and said, “And I’m glad I met you, demon.” His wing wrapped around you and you fell asleep some moments after, cocooned in the warmth of his body and wing.

—

When you woke up in the morning, he was gone. The entire day went by in a blur. You worked at your shop, met up with your friends for afternoon tea, made yourself dinner and then you went back to bed. And repeat.

It was only two days later, when you sensed something different about your body did you realise that it had happened. You were expecting. And your heart sank, solidifying the fact that you would never see the demon again. It shouldn’t have hurt as much as it did, but you couldn’t get rid of the sadness.

But that was the initial plan, was it not? So what if you’d miss his handsome face, his cocky humour, and his touch. This is what you wanted, a baby. And now you were going to have one. And yet, you couldn’t help but miss him.

You thought the absence of him would not matter in time, but weeks later, it felt the same. Each time you made your bed, each time you baked, each time you saw a couple walking hand in hand, everything reminded you of the surprisingly kind demon.

But then one evening, as you returned home from your shop, you sensed something different in the air the moment you stepped inside your house.

And something stirred inside you, that pinch in your chest, the way your heart fluttered. You knew.

“You’re here.” You whispered, shutting the door behind you. You placed your basket down and waited. And then, as if he stepped out of shadow itself, one moment he was nowhere to be seen and the next, he was standing a few feet away from you.

Wearing his dark cloak and his golden crown. He looked like a forgotten, ancient god. One so handsome anyone would willingly worship at his altar. “I am.” He answered, looking at you with sad eyes.

You held his stare and both of you were quiet for a while. You hadn’t invited him tonight. It had been weeks since you last saw each other and seeing him right now, it hurt. It hurt even more because he seemed… lost, hurt and confused. And you didn’t know what to do.

Then his eyes trailed down your body, stopping around your midsection. You smiled and placed a hand on your abdomen, even though you hadn’t started showing just yet. “It worked,” You told him. “I’m expecting.”

“I see.” When he looked up to meet your eyes again he looked even more miserable. And heartbreakingly alone.

“Well,” You said cheerfully, hoping to make him feel a little better. “I was going to make dinner, would you like to join me? I even made fresh bread.” You said, smiling up at him.

He gave you a faint smile, noticing how you weren’t asking him what he was doing here. He nodded, following you to the kitchen and the cosy dining table.

–

Dinner went well. The conversation flowed. He asked you about your neighbours and friends, and your shop. He laughed at your jokes and you laughed at his. Yet once you were both done with your food, the tense silence was back.

Then, while he helped you put away the dishes he said, “I wanted to see you.”

You placed the last plate down and then turned to look at him. “I’m glad you came.” He was so tall that you had to extend your arm up completely to be able to touch the shiny crown on his head. It warmed your heart that he wore it. You smiled and asked, “You really like that crown, don’t you?”

He smiled back at you and said, “It’s my favourite gift I’ve ever been given.”

“Do you show it off to everyone?” You asked, teasing him.

His smile fell a little. “I have no one to show it off to.” He stated.

Your heart broke at the sound of that. You couldn’t help but lean in and wrap your arms around his torso. He was warm, his body heat wrapping around you as you hugged him. “I’ve missed you too.” You said.

He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer and kissed the top of your head. “Can I stay for a while?” He asked, and the softness of his voice made you tear up.

“Of course you can stay,” You said, then pulled away to look up at his pretty face. “For as long as you wish to.”

So you and the handsome demon found yourselves on that favourite chair of yours, with you on his lap. You tried to read but then ended up engaging in playful banters with him until you slowly drifted off to sleep right there on his lap, with your face nuzzling his neck. He had his arms wrapped protectively around you, reminding you a lot of how the dragons guarded their hoards.

So you fell asleep, dreaming of random things until…

You were in the meadows. The sun was about to set so the sky was nothing but golden and pink and purple. But you weren’t alone. A little girl was holding your hand tightly.

Your daughter?

You looked down and she was barely tall enough to reach your knees but she squealed in happiness, pointing up at the sky. You followed her small finger and found a dark spot in the pink and purple sky above. A dark spot, like shadows, that grew and grew until it looked like it was getting closer and closer to the ground. It was. He was. Mighty wings flapping in the wind as he flew above you in circles until he landed on the grass with a loud thud.

Your daughter dropped your hand and ran to him, to her father. And he picked her up, holding her high up in the air, laughing as she giggled louder than ever, before hugging her close as he walked over to you. Once close enough, he bent down to kiss your forehead, curling a wing around you. As if it were a habit. As if he’d done it hundreds of times.

“Let’s go home, my love.”

You woke up, and immediately pulled away to meet his eyes. Incubi could infiltrate dreams with ease. And your handsome demon had done just that.

You held his stare in silence for a while. Then you managed to ask, voice a little shaky, “Is that- what you just showed me, is that something you would want?”

He grabbed you by the hips and pulled you even closer, “You are what I want.” He whispered, inches away from your lips. “You and…” He placed a hand on your not-showing-yet stomach. “Her. And however many more babies you would want from me. I want everything with you.”

Your eyes watered, and you managed a faint smile as you said, “And here I was taught that demons were heartless.”

He chuckled, and grabbed your hand and brought it up to his chest. He placed your palm down on the material of the cloak, right in the middle of his chest and said, “Feel that?” He pressed your palm against his chest. And you felt it, the steady beat of his heart. “I forgot it was even there. Until it began racing the other day when I thought of you.”

You blinked away the wetness at your waterline, sniffled and said, “How poetic of you, demon.” Then you realised, “I don’t even know your name.”

He laughed again, eyes filled with adoration as he looked at you. “I don’t have one. Then again, my name can be whatever you want it to be.”

Your heart doubled in size just looking at him. “Are you sure you want this? You’ll have to pull your weight. I’ll make you do chores.” You teased.

He smiled, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your cheek. “Anything you want me to do, I’ll do it.” He smirked then added, “I’ll even carry mail around if you want.”

You couldn’t help but lean in for a kiss. A deep, passionate kiss. One that made him growl possessively against your mouth before he claimed it with enough passion that had you undoing the buttons in the front of your dress as quickly as you could.

He helped you in getting rid of your long, flowy dress. Then as you straddled his lap properly, he shrugged off his cloak and dropped it on the ground. And all it took was one silent, pleading look from him and you bucked your hips against his, your wet core rubbing against his erection and he grunted. His hands rubbed up and down your sides lovingly.

“Don’t tease me, little witch.” He whispered mischievously against your mouth, your warm breaths mingling. The fact that he was willing to just sit there and let you take whatever you wanted from him turned you ravenous.

You lifted off his lap and slowly lowered yourself down on his cock, or tried to because you still had trouble taking him given his size. But with a little help, he grabbed you by the hips to keep you in place and he pushed up into you. Making you cry out as you finally began sinking down on him. Somehow, he felt bigger this way and your body resisted just a little to fit him inside.

An arrogant smirk formed on his pretty face as he watched you struggle for a while. “Do you need help, little one?” He asked, and once you nodded, looking at him with pleading eyes, he grabbed your hips in place and gently began thrusting his hips up into you until you found a pleasurable pace.

When you felt that your body could take it, you began moving against him. Lifting up just the slightest, before sliding back down on his cock, you whimpered as he groaned, snug inside of you. In this position, the tip of his cock reached sensitive places you never knew existed.

“You’re so warm,” He whispered, his eyes locked in place where he disappeared inside you each time you moved. Lust-drunk, both of you. You leaned in closer, cradling his head as he took one of your breasts into his mouth while his tail wrapped around the other.

Crying out in overwhelming pleasure, you moved faster, impaling yourself down on his cock each time. You whimpered shamelessly as you felt him filling you up completely each time, feeling him reach deeper into you with each thrust.

His hand slipped between the two of you and he placed his palm against your abdomen. Your heart melted as you remembered the dream you just had. You cupped his face and he released your nipple to look up at you. Nothing needed to be said, the sincerity and adoration in his eyes spoke volumes. You leaned in for a soft kiss, moaning against his lips as his hand circled around your waist and he pulled your warm body closer to his.

He felt warm from deep within. Warmth he had never felt before. Your lips brushed against his each time you moved up and down his cock. He mostly let you set the pace and he took whatever you gave him, only guiding you up and down his cock when you needed him to.

You pulled away, bouncing on his cock as you stared into his pretty eyes. He whispered gently about how perfect you felt around him, wet and warm all for him. He panted against your cheek, kissing the side of your face and gripping your jaw with his hand. “You’re mine,” He whispered.

“And you’re mine.” You didn’t slow down as you felt your orgasm wash over you, and he kept thrusting his hips up into you as your eyes rolled back and you moaned out loud as you came, hard, feeling your walls squeezing and clenching around him.

He came right after you, his warm release filling you up once again as he wrapped his arms around you and pressed your warm body closer to him. “I’m gonna take care of you.” He promised.

You smiled, pulling away to look into his eyes. “You’ll never be lonely again. I promise.” You sealed your promise with a kiss on his forehead and he couldn’t have smiled any bigger.

“Do you have to go and bring back all your belongings?” You asked, kissing down his face until you could nuzzle his chest. Secretly not wanting him to leave even for just a minute.

“I don’t have any. All I have is the crown and cloak you gave me.” Something about that made you tear up as you looked up at him. He smiled at you, pulling you closer.

You sniffled, snuggling closer to him. “I'll make you a drawer full of clothes and cloaks. Some pants too. Maybe even a hat or two for when it gets cold.”

He laughed, kissing the top of your head. No one had ever cared for him this much, let alone a fraction of this. And in that moment he knew there was nothing he wouldn’t do for you, and the family that you two would have soon. “I’ll love you till the end of time, little witch.”

“And I you, demon.” You wrapped yourself around him, placing your ear right above where you thought his heart would be. In the middle of his chest and there it was, his steady and strong heartbeat.

—

Part 2 (just in case you wanna read more about these two)

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes #demon!bucky #marvel

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winterwolvesandstarbucks · 2 years ago

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Steeling himself against a rush of alarm in his veins, Bucky held his breath as he listened to the heavy footfalls thumping across the ornate marble floors. Tucked in a dark alcove in what looked to be an assembly room, the former soldier and ex-assassin kept a gloved hand locked the hilt of his Geber tactical knife, the weight of the military-issued weapon providing him a calm sense of reassurance in the face of the beastly shadow moving across the floor. The grunting and growling of an actual beast from Greek Mythology stomped past his hiding spot, the towering shape muscular and decked out in polished armor with a war-axe clutched in his hands. Circe's minions were on the look-out for possible intruders. No doubt his arrival must've set off whatever magical alarms she had blanketing her island and this palace. Despite the magically enhanced weapon, Bucky clutched in his closed fist, he wasn't here for a fight.

He just had to find his kitten and get back home. Once the minotaur-like guard had lumbered past, Bucky counted to ten and then glanced outside of his hiding spot. The assembly room was empty. Not for the first time, he was captivated by the lush Greek decor that looked polished and new but was no doubt as ancient as the ruined temple of Artemis on the mainland. If it wasn't for the magical tether Strange had given him to call for his escape, Bucky would've thought he stepped into another world or backwards in time. It both awed and frustrated him at the size and enormity of this place. He could get easily lost or snuck up on by something as unexpected as a centaur. He had to find Selina.

The muddier sludginess that revoltingly entrenched within the crammed horde grossly slathered over the droopier-plumpish rotundity of her curvaceous underbelly as Selina tensely evaded the nauseous-putrid reek stinkily wafting off blubbery-girthed sows who maddeningly obstructed the iron-spire gates of the lockdown pen.

Gripping onto vestiges of heart-notching resistance, feverishly, Selina registered the bone-vising heaviness of a clunkier iron shackled throbbing clamped over her stubbier fore-hoof as she exhaustively yanked the chain that fastened to her a massively blimpish sow who gruntingly rested on the droopier globbiness of her swell-out mass. "Hey...Don't even think about it..." she warned, grittily, bracing herself for a gustier barrage as the amplifying clamour gurglingly resonated within her blobbier pen-mate's barrel-sized girth. She wouldn't become damningly pegged into the odorous crossfire of another gas-assult-the vaporous stench was disgustingly rancid.

Despite that, she was a delectably bustier-voluptuous newbie of the hoggish hovel, Selina brandished a measure of poise -cool indifference against the suffusive -porcine instincts of catatonically being an obese-dormant slug that fatteningly indulged on gluttonous -filthier abandon within the odious muck. Hinging up a modicum of revulsion, edgily, she wobbled onto her pudgier cloven-hooves, only to inadvertently bonk her puffier jowelly snout into a lumpish backside of a heftier sow. "Urgh...Can't you let a girl breathe in here..."

The stench of filth and waste was about as pungent as the scent of despair coming off a number of these sows who were still dimly aware of their former human existence. A harrowing realization of how bleak things could get in this place if she didn't find a way out of this. She'd been dragged down before, far to the pit where rock-bottom waited cruelly for her to land. Her steeled focus was razor-sharp despite her predicament. Opportunity would find its way in and she would capitalize on it. But dire tolls had a way of extracting more than expected when another factor came into play. That factor was by way of a familiar waft of musk she came to identify with one person-probably the only most important person to her in her life.

Above the den was a walkway that led to a sectioned off entry-way. The guardsman only had a moment to react before the whooshing of a knife heralded his demise before the blade pierced his neck. The beast fell with a dying roar as a man entered, dressed in tactical gear with an assault rifle held in his hands. Blue eyes scanned the room in search of his objective, but Bucky grimaced at the nauseating stink of animal waste. "Damn it, where the hell is she?"

Angling up her furrier elonged snout, gruntingly, against ramped-up alarm, Selina registered the headier smokiness of cinnamony sandalwood-the addictive fragrancy of masculine decadence that assailed over the odorous fumes of her pen-mates. Suppressing down an oinkish breath, rampantly, she fixed her beadier autumn-brandy irises onto the marble walkway bridged above her.

"B-Bucky..." she murmured out, snortily, catching a heart-stopping glimpse of a menace-bounded intruder stealthily garbed into a navy-blue jacket of tactical kevlar as the mechanized servo of his vibrainium bionic arm robotically flexed in defensive tenor-it was definitely her beast-machine. Swaggeringly, he prowled over the walkway, harnessing up callbacks of his sniper-honed -deadlier momentum with every sashaying advance, intimidatingly brandishing his Geber knife with close-fisted readiness, while his SIG-Sauer P226 SCT pistol was combatively holstered onto the corded bulkiness of his fatigue-sheathed thigh."S-Stay up there, handsome..."

"Selina?" Bucky had felt his heart skip a beat when he registered that familiar voice. It was velvety and smooth capable of inciting the most powerful of emotions inside of them that threatened to overwhelm his discipline. As his eyes scanned the pen full of distressed pigs, he frowned when he detected no sign of her. "Selina, where are you?" His gaze continued to shift, eyeing every area of the pen that he could but it was difficult to get a good view when so many of the pigs were rushing around in distress. His arrival must've upset them. His instinct was to keep moving before more guards were drawn to the commotion and decided to come in but he knew he wasn't hearing things. "I'm coming, darlin," holstering his weapons, he braced himself before dropping down from his high perch into the pen. He was immediately swarmed by a few sows while others scampered off in fear. Bucky tried to ignore them as well as the reeking stench of the filthy pen. "Back up, come on, shoo," he gently chided the sows in his way.

One of them stood out among the others. A sow of a rich and clean mahogany colored fur with a lither shape to her hide than the others that allowed her to come towards him with a graceful cadence. It felt familiar.

Hearing the raspier gravelliness of his whiskey-roughened drawl murmurously arrest her warring heartbeat, unmovingly, Selina watched him impassively crouch down onto his kevlar-clad haunches with sniper-honed grace, against the contrasting sconces of torchlight, the scruffier ruggedness of his knife-edged features hawkishly razored with the broader angularity of his cheekbones roguishly emphasized the hunkish fierceness. Roving the voltaic intensity of his stormier aquamarine irises, Bucky raptly scrunched up his Romaniansque nose against the fetid potency that assailed over the congested pen. A lumbering bulgy sow frantically nudged her muddier snout pudgily against his bionic hand, as Bucky pursed his shapely-bow lips into a taut grimace, crestfallenly feigning his pent-up revulsion on defensive accord. "Urgh..." A snottier glop drippily oozed out of the fattish sow's mud-caked nostrils, dropping onto his GX combat boot. "Yeah...That's kinda gross.."

He tried to shut out the pungent distraction of his surroundings and the oinking sows that circled him inside of the pen. His blue eyes searched and scanned, his dry voice calling out to her. "Selina, darlin', are you here?!" He walked forward, taking care not to bump into the sows or step on anything filthy other than the dirt beneath his feet. He noticed that peculiar sow who didn't behave like the others. She was...quiet. More than that she was calm as a kite while staring at him with an unnerving look that felt too distinct. "You wouldn't happen to know where I can find a dame named Selina would you?" He blurted out candidly, not even taking himself seriously as he reached the edge of the pen and could see another closed gate that led to a neighbouring pen. With a tug of the handle, the gate groaned and he felt impatience gnaw at him. "She's gotta be here somewhere!"

Against feverous onrushes that implosively coupled with vomitous grogginess, moaningly, Selina eased her daintier hand against the bone-vising pressure of the shackle throbbing clamped over the fine-bone delicateness of her forearm; the bustier suppleness of her voluptuous breasts was distractingly snugged against the ripped material of her ebony satin camisole, as her dishevelled mahogany whorls sweatily draped over her lithe-toned shoulders. Distressingly, another buxom sow gruntingly nudged her pudgier-tusked snout against the bulkier rigidity of his garbed leg on heart-stopping fruition-warning him not to advance. "B-Bucky..." she murmured, raspily, bracing her svelter back against a white-marble column, while snakily flashing malevolent intensity at the delectable curvaceous sow-thievish vixen who remained composedly poised on her cloven-hooves at the gate."S-Stay away from that grunter, handsome...She's playing with you..."

He zeroed in on the familiar voice in a hidden alcove within the pen. His heart nearly stopped in his chest to see her shackled against the column. Her coffee brown eyes were dim with fatigue, her complexion vacant as she gazed back at him with deep longing. "Selina!" He tried to make his way towards her when he felt a tugging on his pants. He looked to see that sow that had been staring at him intently now fully determined to stop him from advancing. "Let go!" He pulled himself free, his mind lost to the warning signs now that he was this close to his kitten. He rushed towards her and gently picked her up, tearing the shackle free of the pillar with one harsh yank. "I got you, darlin'. Its gonna be okay," he said while holding her close. After a month of constant worry and hard searching, he'd finally found her. She found her footing while leaning against him. "Are you hurt?" He asked, now finally realizing that she was dressed pretty weird in a fancy looking gown that looked too much for her sense of style. Not that it didn't look good on her, he thought, his allure for her strong as ever as he brushed away her curly loose mahogany locks. She smelled different too.

Revamped urgency betrayingly teemed within her bulbously roundish form, gnashingly, Selina curbed down the rampageous heartache that was consumingly denotative in tenfold as she mistily fixed her beadier gaze onto the viperous cheat who sneerily winked at her. A possessive-aphrodisiacal decadence-potency hypnotically grappled Bucky into seductive dregs. Without a deterrence of resistance, his bionic palm reverently splayed featherlight over her voluptuous curves on the evocative accord. Evicting the murderous impulse to deliver a point-blank headshot at the serpentine- maniacal enchantress, rampantly, she wobbled on desperate-uncompromising momentum at Bucky's flank, utilizing her barrel-sized girth like an obstructive roadblock. With a brazen attempt, she bitingly nipped on his pistol's hostler strap at a breakneck tempo. "Not playing it smooth, handsome..."

"Hey!" Bucky instinctively reached for his weapon once he felt the pull against his holster but it was too late. The insistent sow had somehow pulled his weapon out and threw it across the pen with great force. "Damn it! Don't move, Selina." Bucky set her back to lean against the wall as he moved to retrieve his weapon. The number of pigs moving about made it difficult to see where it landed in the heaps of mud and filth. "Where the hell did it go?" He felt mild irritation with the sow that had been fixated on him since he jumped into the pen, wondering why he was having such a string of bad luck. He had to get his gun and get Selina out of this place. Through the corner of his eye he saw Selina moving about before dashing away as if to avoid something. "What?" Bucky looked over in befuddlement to see the same sow that somehow disarmed him was now trying to ram Selina. "Selina, get clear!"

Huffing out gustier-rubbery snorts, fumingly, Selina propelled her stampeding momentum on defensive tempo, aggressively rearing up her tusked-snout a hairbreadth into the sorceress's tauten calve with bone-impaling ferocity. A kittenish pout saucily quirked over the burgundy lushness of the witchy imposter's plushier full-bow lips as she whirlingly sidestepped with vampiric evades from Selina's explosive assault. "Y-You're not taking him..."

In that heart-knifing moment, gaspingly, Selina registered the unremitting pressure of cool-bionic vibrainium mechanically braced over the pudginess of her jowelly throat on immobilizing-deadlier sync. Emitting out choked-off breaths, Selina thrashed against the robotized chokehold, vertiginously, feeling Bucky unmovingly straddle his muscled thighs over the plumpish rotundity of her curvier girth. The sludginess of the pen was disturbingly akin to gloppy molasses against her stubbier hooves-deadening her warred mobility. "S-Stop doing this, handsome..." she grunted, breathlessly, thrusting her porcine head forcibly against the washboard rigidity of his Kevlar-clad midriff. "Ooh..."

"Stop, just stop," Bucky murmured with a rough voice. He didn't want to hurt the pig who was probably instinctively defending what she perceived as her territory in this pen, but he wasn't about to let the animal hurt Selina. The sow was stubborn and strong, nearly slipping free of his sleeper-hold which prompted him to put more pressure. The other sows in the pen were oinking wildly, the sight of him subduing one of their own perhaps serving to only agitate them as the ran about in wild circles. The sow's struggling was getting slower, he steadily relaxed his grip, hoping it was enough to keep the pig winded in an effort to collect her breath. "Selina, are you hurt?" He called to her over his shoulder. The sow was whining as he released her. Bucky felt guilt and remorse in his heart as he released the sow who laid on her plumper side breathing in deeply. He turned to find Selina watching the scene with a cruel smile before she met his gaze and looked at him coolly. That was weird. He thought nothing more of it as he moved towards her, "we've got to get out of here. I got someone on the outside who's gonna give us a quick ticket out."

"B-Bucky..." A throat-vising squeal anguishedly railed out her on a panicked tempo as brazen sow tearily flashed her beadier autumn-rich irises onto the vixenish imposter's lithe hand possessively splaying her lithe fingers with kitten-soft pressure over the golden skeins kinetically melded within his vibrainium servos with carnal reverence-a deceptive variance of sirenic allure to damningly chasten her beast machine into headier throes. Witchily, Selina played off an impish smirk, gazing down at the graven-edged ridges that athletically delineated underneath his tactical jacket-a true Spartan warrior incarnate. "What's the hurry Barnes, can't we have some fun..." she coaxed in a huskier undertone, friskily, as the pricky underside of his broader jaw scratchily rasped against the supple delicateness of her bruised cheek. Arrestingly, she flexed her daintier palm over his tauten mid-drift-hijacking every surge of his reluctance. "Besides you owe me..."

Bucky was confused if not a little bewildered by her behavior. Selina was known for being coy in the face of imminent danger. It was one of the things he'd loved about her how she could be so playfully seductive and teasing like a woman who just won the lottery but wanted to gamble it all by teasing the big bad wolf. But she'd been gone for months, held captive on this mythical hellhole of an island against her will. He would've thought she'd be in more of a hurry to leave than this. "You must be really glad to see me, darlin', if you really want to have fun in a place like this," he deadpanned, nearly out of breath after his struggle against the aggressive sow, not to mention the number of beastly minions he had to put down on his way in. There was no telling what else waited for them beyond this room, but the wizard had told him not to get too cozy here otherwise the mystery witch who ran this place would make it impossible for him to want to leave. 'Had the same thing happened to Selina?' He thought worriedly. Was she under some kind of mind-control spell?

Detecting a pulse of hesitation that implosively notched through his veins, hungrily, Selina gripped onto his jacket's collar with a head-jerking yank-leaving him dumbstruck breathless against the possessive-evocative tenor of her sensuous demand. Groaningly, Bucky emitted out a throatier 'mphff' as the surging heat of her pillowy cherry-glossed lips devouringly stretched his with kiss-bruising pressure that crushingly disarmed vestiges of his resistance.

Keeping Bucky captive into her seductive thrall, she rhythmically dragged her lacquered fingernails against the heavier underside of his bristled jaw with fevered precision, driving his arousal onto the riotous-untamed edge of headier decadence. "I guess you missed this, huh, Barnes..." she rasped, breathily against his poutier velvety-soft lips, only to hear the distressing assonance pandemonium of her blubbery-girthed drudges gruntingly became a pandemonium of heart-razing anguish. Vextiously, she was aware that he was resisting her aphrodisiac command of virile surrender-he wasn't kissing back. "Block out that damn noise..." she hissed, waspishly, as her dark irises grew lividly alight with rapine malice. "Just focus on me, James..."

He wanted to kiss her back, to simply give in and release the months of repressed desires he carried for his missing lover, but knew this felt wrong. SHE felt wrong. Mustering his will, he fought to wrestle his lips back from hers, it felt almost like reciprocating her rough onslaught, until the separated with a gasp for breath. Bucky gazed at her with focused eyes full of distrust. "Stop." He grunted, not liking the viperish smile on her lips.

As the scratchier gravelliness of his throat-gritted drawl feverously struck a defensive cord of restraint, Selina mirrored the voltaic intensity the smolderingly gleamed in his grayish-aquamarine irises as he staggeringly reined back on his mud-sodden GX boots with aggressive traction while a nidorous mantra-incantation vitriolically amplified in the possessive frequency of morphic-damnable witchery that effusively deadened him.

Predatorily, she whirled around him with cobra-honed graces, flitting her dark irises callously onto the Geber blade readily sheathed onto his leathered holster. Saucily, her full-bow lips quirked up as she registered a hostile callback of his tactical-deadlier calibre. "Always full of surprises, aren't we, Barnes..." she chided, thornily, as her lithe fingers deceptively brandished the hilt of an xiphos dagger that alarmingly retracted from her golden-cuffed bracket. On heavier strain, gnashingly Bucky jutted out his dimpled-chin- traces of bestial menace cuttingly razored over the hard-edged contours of his boyishly rugged features as his bionic fingers tactfully clutched onto his blade on mechanized tenor. With a malevolent glare, the fieriness of her doe-like brandy depths bewitchingly melded into purplish-aster, evident to Grecian skeins that electrifyingly veined over the cool pearlescent of her gauntleted forearms. "I guess the mask needs to come off, handsome..."

His instinct was to reach for his custom spring steel combat knife. It was a polished and freshly forged blade that gleamed like a shiny strip of platinum as he clutched the handle in his right palm. "I don't know who you are...But you're definitely not my kitten." His voice carried a level of angry conviction. He was being toyed with, mentally and emotionally. He was used to people screwing with his head, but this felt too personal. His jaw tightened as he assumed a combat ready stance just in time to parry a knife thrust aimed for his chest. The spring steel scraped against the ancient dagger, the metals scraping loudly, sending chilling vibrations up their arms. Bucky looked at her with surprise at her strength. That would've pierced his lung if he hadn't countered it. Selina wasn't a knife-fighter-if she was, she was seriously holding out on him. Rather than question the grinning viper, he retaliated with his own side-ways thrust, sweeping the blade in a crisscross motion and wasn't surprised that she managed to dodge the attack with unnatural grace. His movements were slow due to the mud but hers were swift and undisturbed.

"What have you done with Selina Kyle?!" He yelled, unsettled as the woman wearing her face laughed evilly and and feinted a stab-thrust only to swiftly pivot on her right leg, spinning to bring her left foot down on his shoulder in a twirl-kick. He staggered but managed to block the brunt of the attack. She didn't relent as she thrust her blade for his chin. He edged back but felt the hissing brush of air over his face as the blade came a breath from piercing his skin. He caught her wrist, attempting to wrestle the weapon from her clutches. She used the proximity to lunge and wrap around his torso, her ankles locking. She grunted as she brought the blade down, the tip piercing his shoulder. "GRAAH!" Bucky cried out in pain. Seething with frustration, he threw his weight back, towards the wall. She grunted as his weight smashed into hers giving him the opportunity to grab her hair and fling him over his shoulder. She pulled the knife out as she went, causing even more pain to blind him.

Bleeding and fuming he stepped forward and thrust his boot hitting her midriff in a Spartan-kick sending her backwards. "Answer me!" He roared.

Rearing her bloodied chin up with viperous traction, sneeringly, the deceitful imposer glided her daintier palm over the delicate-bone curvatures of her elfish features as whitish psionic energy creepily sloughed the masquerading visage of the gorgeously thievish kitten, revealing a vampiress- siren. The glossier sleekness of her dishevelled raven-purplish whorls alluringly cascaded over the supple curvatures of her olive-bronze shoulders portentously akin to cobra-deshret. The voluptuous exquisiteness of her statuesque form was lavishly adorned in a whitish Grecian chiton-tunic embroidered with rhinestone sapphire that fringed over her golden-plated brocade. "I find your gladiator resilence amusing..." she rasped under her breath, mockingly, flitting her basilisk silvery-virescent irises maliciously onto a heap of shredded neoprene that was evidently discarded into a soggy mud-pit. "Though, I must confess, your beautiful Selina no longer exists in mortal reflection..."

Bucky's skin went ice-cold as the world seemed to collapse all around him. Choked with disbelief, he bared his teeth at the mystery witch while clutching his knife even tighter. "What the hell does that mean?! D-Did you kill her?" He was afraid to ask, the dread seeping into him was more grievous than the pain weeping from his shoulder. The strange woman had shed her magical disguise and revealed her true visage. Bucky trembled and glared fiercely as she laughed at his turmoil. She wouldn't give him a straight answer, he knew. His frustration boiled over until he lunged at her again, his knife aiming for a killing thrust towards her neck. She parried with her own blade with venomous skill causing sparks to fly out as the metals clashed. Bucky didn't relent, despite his slow footing as he spun and masked a swipe towards her waist. She dodged and retaliated with her own strike. Bucky ducked and caught her arm with one hand, exposing her side as he thrust. She dodged only barely, the blade cutting through her dress and scratching her skin, much to her ire.

The knifepoint clash of his untrammelled ferocity was symphonically explosive; with cobra-strike reaction, she viciously gripped onto his vein-threaded wrist, lashingly dragging her fingernails over tauten flesh that was stabbingly like a paralytic-waspish sting inexorably lancing bone-deep. "I must admit that you harbour an impressive vibrancy of combative tenacity...A true warrior of Sparta." A pitch sardonic razed up her throat, malignly, as Bucky angled his garbed chest against a marble-quartz column with tenser strain-resistance increasingly thrummed within him. "Instead you've been carousing in the shadows of an underworld that is befouled with the iniquities of lost souls...Perhaps the drive of your valour has become redemption to save these mortal drudges, but even the noble warriors of Sparta tasted defeat under my power..."

Raptorially she glanced down at the graven-corded rigidity of bulkier-athletic-honed muscle that hunkily bracketed into v-cut obliques of his kevlar-garbed abdomen-every virile curvature was menacingly edged with gladiator solidity as he forcily wrenched his arm back. Feigning her warring revulsion, she blatantly kneaded her palm over the bloodied gash in his muscled shoulder-relishing the infective onslaught of her telestic dregs that would morphically amputate his masculine beauty into a boarish-obesified drudge. "Now you will join my wretched captives who fatteningly prevail under my reign, for denying a place at my side, James Barnes..."

Raggedly, Bucky emitted a choked-off gasp on mortified tenor as purplish trigon glyphs mephitically striated over the heavier thews of his deadened forearm-branding him with her sorcerous incantation. A morphic heaviness of rubberized-blubbery pudge doughily fused over his tauten flesh on chunkier fruition as he gaspingly wavered on vertiginous traction, and braced his cybertronic arm over his bulgier mid-drift that swollenly glozed underneath his tactical jacket. "Urgh..." Gaspingly, Bucky slumped against a marble pillar, registering every vestige of his athletic-honed resilence disturbingly sloughing into globbier rotundity as his jutting navel furrily dwarfed against overlapping pudginess-a blobbish girth.

"N-N-No…" He felt like his blood was on fire. A sickly burning sensation pouring through his veins and reaching out for his heart and soul. Bucky fought with every shred of strength and ounce of willpower to stave off the waves of change crashing against every cell inside of him. The witch's magic manifested as purple veins bled across his skin. The pain he felt, the horror of anticipation didn't compare to the ache in his heart that he had failed. He'd failed Selina. Crashing to his knees, he couldn't control the twitching spasms of his transforming muscles, nor the bulging mass of his expanding fat. He gazed up at the evil witch who laughed at his suffering. If it was the last thing he did he promised himself he'd stop her by whatever means necessary. The soldier inside of him is defiant till the very end.

"S-Selina…" His voice croaked as words failed him. His hearing was deafened by the sounds of his own body being twisted and reshaped from a human being into a mere animal.

Hearing the oinkish cadence gurglingly erupt over his globbing throat, with viperous fluidity, Circe eased onto her shapelier haunches, kneading her lithe fingers through his sweat-drenched tresses that grungily clung over the lumpish deformity of pudgier fleshiness that uglily fused with his masculine sculpt of his outstretched- elongating nose into a wedged-out snout. Heaving out snortier breaths on a panicked tempo, gapingly, Bucky stretched his poutier lips as his lower incisors piercingly jutted into boar-like tusks. "N-NO..." The bone-vising onslaught spasmodically amplified into convulsive mania; stuntedly, Bucky pinched his eyelids against the bubbling puffiness fleshily melding over the stubbier bones of his reshaping fingers-hooves. "Grugh.." The burgeoning -mutative strain of his girthier-pot-bellied roundness burstingly 'shrappp' against the ripped kevlar of his tactical jacket-he was alarmingly morphing into a blimpish hog.

The odorous-pukish acidity of bile droolingly trekked over the bulbous sagginess jowelly chin- every razor-edged contour of his scruffier features meltingly glozed into a blobbing -furrier visage of a hideous boar. "Such a waste..." she rasped, mockingly, tracing her lacquered fingernail over the puckered swollenness of his tusked-lips. "I desired to keep you as my champion among the victorious ranks, now, you will lament into the dregs of gluttonous misery and listlessly sire wretched broods that will replenish my paradise..."

It was all a scream-both inside and out. He couldn't believe this had happened to him. A flick of his gaze towards the dangling hoof of what used to be his right arm saw the stubby limb shift by his command. His misery only continued to grow as she taunted him. The evil witch's cold touch was about as pleasant as a needle being dragged across his skin. He wanted to recoil, he wanted to lunge and maw on her hand like the animal she had just turned him into. But he couldn't. The suffocating stench of her magic permeated his body turning him into a weak creature whose ultimate purpose was to be devoured or discarded. Bucky didn't care which one-it was all for nothing! Selina...Selina was gone...wasn't she? He couldn't bring himself to hope, to torture himself any further than the grim reality he now faced. He wasn't a human being anymore-this evil witch had stolen that from him as sure as Hydra had stolen his free-will. Bucky latched onto the anger inside of him, the drive to remain defiant as he grunted and huffed in his struggle to stand.

"You uurrrgh you won't-urrrgggh-g-get away with this!" His voice was heavy and broken amidst the oinkish pitch of its new form, but his message still rang clear as he saw her curl her lips with distaste. He watched as she snapped her fingers and as if by magic, a towering behemoth of an creature stalked forward into the pen. It looked more like a beast than a man with the face of a goat and the body of a bull. Bucky braced himself for the feeling of imminent death. Instead, the jailer grabbed his leg and started dragging him through the muck. He struggled at first, desperately trying to find some way of breaking free from the grip of inhumanely strength. It was no use. As he was dragged, his fading gaze landed on the sow, who was alert and looking at him, squealing as if out to him.

He was back at their studio apartment. Midtown, NYC. The moon shone bright in the sky behind a veil of clouds, latent and foreboding. All the ivory towers glittering like diamonds on black velvet. But nothing shone brighter than her pearly soft smile as she patted his cheek and pressed a kiss against his lips. His heart-ached, his hands weren't able to let her go as she whispered in her sweet silky voice. "I'll be back before you know it, handsome." He felt her leave, not watched, but felt. It was like a part of him was being taken with her.

"Selina..." He called out to her as their world faded into dim obscurity.

He awoke to the feeling of ice-cold water splashing all over him, rendering him into an alarmed panicked state. A cold cruel voice laughed at him.

A guttural squeal breathlessly erupted out of the paunchy sniper-hog's flabbier throat as he dizzyingly wobbled on the clumsier traction of his stubbier-cloven hooves on shell-shocked panic, unaware of the hulkish rhino-like warden imposingly grounded his block-sized hooves near the iron-spired bars, malignly gazing down at the newest addition of the pathetic-fattening ranks."Awww... Did the little piggy, not like his morning bath..." he bellowed in snortier cadence, abrasively, glaring down at the remnants of bluish kevlar tatteredly clinging onto bulbous rotundity of his droopier girth as Bucky stumblingly thunked the bulginess of his plumpish backside against the eroded bars."Get up you pudgy runt...Or I will enjoy dragging you into that mud heap again...Bucko!"

Thrashing up the jowelly pudginess of his tusked snout on defensive accord, gruntingly, Bucky caught the putrid rancidity of hoggish-sweat vomitously entrenching him-the stink of anesthetized dormancy that pervaded within the sludgier pens. Blurringly, against the puffier sagginess of his furred cheeks, Bucky roved the feverous intensity of his beadier aquamarine irises onto the spired bars as his floppier ears twitchily rapted against his wedge-sized head. "Mphm..." he emitted out in a gruntier pitch, nasally, registering the paunchier bloatedness of his rotund mass chubbily shifting as he exhaustingly attempted to pivot onto his stubbier hooves, only to feel a bone-vising pressure of the shackled-chain grippingly clamped over his stockier fore-leg arresting his warred mobility, as his wiggly corkscrew tail spiralled out of his furrier rump. "Argh..."

Confused didn't begin to describe what he was feeling. The pungent reek of filth and stagnant water was suffocating he felt his eyes water with revulsion adding to the biting chill of his wet misery. "W-Where am I? W-What the hell is this?!" He squealed at the hideous thing that stood outside of the confines of his cage. He was big, roughly over six feet tall and about as wide as a jeep ready to run over everything in his way. His head throbbed with the chorus of wailing cries coming from all around him. It was a blur at first, the dim dark of the pen looked about as hospitable as a dungeon. All the other cages reeked with the stench of fear as animals of various breed beat against the bars of their cages. The ugly one laughed at his confusion, a sadistic and annoying sound that was too awful, rang over the noises as an electric rod was brandished. "Get the hell away from me," Bucky grunted.

"The stink of defiance stills clings to you, piglet..." The beastlier rhino-dreadnought grunted, mockingly, his leathery fingers hefting up a taser-baton on malignant tenor against the eroded bars, as his blackish-onyx depths rabidly glared onto the paunchy chestnut-grayish furred boar, ploddingly waddling over a discarded heap of Kevlar. "You will be scoured from it, once you become a pathetic oinkin' slug in my ranks..." he bellowed, snortily, gesturing his baton at the blubbery -chunkier droopiness of his porcine captive's barrel-sized girth. "First you're gonna enjoy stuffing your piggy snout with sludge..."

"Like hell I will!" Filled with unspent rage, Bucky threw his weight against the cage. The bars held against his mass, the cold metal digging into his sides sending mind-numbing pain throughout his body. But he didn't relent. The pig imagined the witch that put him hear laughing at his misery and he continued thrashing against the bars. The force of his growing defiance caused a restlessness among the other imprisoned animals, their cries growing louder in pitch serving to agitate the guards. The rhino-like brute known simply as Dimios, grinned sadistically as he envisioned breaking the newly transformed hog into a whimpering pathetic mess. "AARRGGH!" Bucky squealed with frustration, the bars either were magically reinforced or the steel was simply too much for him to do anything but slightly bend the bars. "Once I get my hands on that evil witch, I'll-"

"ENOUGH...!" A thunderous cadence fumingly vented out of Dimio's horned snout, as voltaic surges of white-hot energy pulsed off his baton and searingly lanced through Bucky's globbier mass on tasering succession. Bolstering onto his stubbier hooves with callbacks of his untrammelled ferocity as the electrified barrages were intensifying over the shagginess of his fur, gnashingly, Bucky dragged the warped deformity of his vibrainum fore-hoof against the muddier ground, while Dimios stomped his brutish advances into the cell. "You just don't quit..." He yanked the chain with forceful viciousness, listening to Bucky oinkishly grunt out choke-off heaves. "Yeah, the big boys are gonna eat you alive, piglet..."

The strength was sapped from his body as if he were cut opened and drained. Every nerve in his body ached, the lancing pain of electricity bringing forth harrowing memories of his Hydra reconditioning. Electro-shocks had bombarded him with mind-numbing agony and all he could do was scream. His new body wasn't up the endurance he'd built in his superhuman physique. He could only glare up at the rhino-guard with a heated glare that promised retribution should he ever get free. Being angry helped him to cope, to distract him from the grim reminder of how he had ended up here. Her name echoed in his thoughts, his heart breaking in his chest to envision what form of torment she endured in this place. He felt his body being dragged out of the cage by Dimios, the guard throwing him towards a trough filled with nauseating muck that might've been expired fruit. "You eat it first, tough guy!" Using the strength of his hooves he kicked the trough, and splattered the food all over the rhino's body, staining his mouth and torso.

"You'll pay for that...!" Dimios huffed out in vehement pitch, gustily, splaying the veiny puffiness of his leathery hand over the bulbous massiness of his armoured girth as the putrid gooeyness of bilious slop drippily smudged his bronze-forged manica gauntlets. With sledgehammering pressure, he yanked onto the blubbery furriness of the sniper boar's humped shoulder, manically, dragging Bucky's pudgier-tusked snout into the lumpish gunk of rancid sludge. "EAT UP...!" he snorted, fumingly, aware of his porkier captive's rampageous aggression, he brutishly delivered a chokehold over the blobbier sagginess that flabbily overlapped around Bucky's thickened neck and punishingly waterboarded him into the mushier trough with snout-plowing force. "You got a little fight in you, I'll give you that, but soon you won't even remember your name, piglet..."

"No! Ngh! G-Get off me!" Bucky struggled like a man being dragged off to the gallows, feeling nothing but the dread of impending doom in his belly. The deafening squeals and growls of the other wild-life surrounding him only increased his sense of agitation. Dimios' strength was brutal and unyielding, Bucky felt his head might be ripped from his shoulders in his attempt to resist it. The rancid stench of slop was as nauseating as filth. His eyes watered and he gagged amidst his squealing, but it was no use as his face was shoved into the trough. "N-No! I won't-gargh! Ack!" Slushing muck mixed with expired fruit was smeared against his face. The squealing and roaring grew louder, Bucky's temperance was waning. He thought he could hear a voice-her voice-somewhere in the recesses of his surroundings calling out to him.

"B-Bucky..." A choked-off grunt raspily emitted from her blubbery throat, angling her pinkish snout against the eroded bars, feverously, Selina gazed at the dreadnought-beastlier warden thuggishly clutching onto the sniper-boar's flabbier neck. Bracingly, the vixenish sow grounded her stubbier-cloven hooves with defensive traction-she needed to distract the massive brute. Fixing her beadier dark irises collectively, onto a wooden bucket, she wobbled against the hoof-vising strain of her shackle, harnessing up the kickback momentum of her chubbier hind-legs and drove every surge of her rampant ferocity against the bucket. "Hey..." she railed out, snortily, as the bucket smashingly careened into the bars. "Pick on someone your own size, big boy..."

The brutish guardsman whipped his gaze towards the impudent sow who dared to taunt him and growled threateningly. "Shut your mouth you mewling sow or you're next!" His distraction and intense focus distracted him from his task, only too late realizing that the newly turned pig in his grip had gone slack as if weightless and dead. "You still alive you pathetic worm?" He stuffed Bucky's face further into the slop and felt no resistance. "Ah damn it," Realizing his error, Dimios pulled Bucky back and threw his to the ground where he laid as lifeless and still. If it weren't for the ever slight rise and fall of his abdomen he was certain the hog had perished. His mistress would have him ripped to pieces if he had ended her newly turned prize prematurely.

"Weak. Pathetic. You won't last long in this hell, mainlander." The clumps of slop matted to the hog's head and mouth satisfied the brute enough with the thought the pig had been forced to eat it. It wouldn't be long now until his mind was gone. "I'm gonna enjoy stripping the bacon off your hide when Circe no longer needs you."

"No...You bastard!" A heart-stopping onslaught of crescendoing panic betrayingly whipsawed through the bulgy suppleness of her voluptuous mass, unblinkingly, Selina gazed at her motionless sniper-boar as the girthy rotundity of his blobbier underbelly alarmingly strained against his throatier oinks. She wouldn't accept that he was potbellied chubb-ball into a sorcerous-deadbolted reality with her-not her beast machine. "G-Get up handsome..." she murmured, shakily, watching the fuzzier length of his puckered-jowelly snout twitchily rapt, evident to his floppier ears underneath the unkempt shagginess of chestnut tresses -he was definitely playing down the possum card. Against the feverous bleariness that robbed her vision, Selina gnashed her tusked-teeth, and thunked her pudgier snout against the bars with resurge of her pent-up fury. "You didn't even him a chance..." she oinked-off, jarring the rhino-brute away from Bucky with her deceptive play. "You're not walking away from this..."

Dimios sneered with sadistic amusement as he turned his back. "Tough luck, Piggy. Did this lump of ham mean something to you? Was he your brother?!" Bucky's eye peeled open, disorientation fading as his focus was burned into the guardsman's back. Slowly he shifted and brought one hoof out from under him, and then a second. Dimios towered in front of the sow's cage, his mountainous size casting an ominous shadow over her. "Oh I think I get it, you were hoping to mate with him? HA! Don't you worry now, your time will come and when it does I'm gonna gut-" Massive weight crashed into Dimios' back, sending the minotaur sentry careening forward to smash into the spiked arch of a column. The spike pierced his arm and the ogre roared with pain. "AAARGGH!"

"That's no way to talk to a lady," Bucky grunted on unsteady hooves.

Venting out a full-throated grunt that implosively revved within the blimpish paunchiness of his rotund form, aggressively, Bucky thrusted his jowelly-tusked snout as he rushingly barrelled his clunkier momentum towards Dimios with line-breaker charge; the heftier traction of his cloven-hooves draggingly scraped against the marble flooring on defensive-breakneck succession. The warped deformity of his vibrainium fore-hoof robotically whirred on mechanized tenor as he gnashingly rammed his wedge-sized head into the heavier bulkiness of Dimios's armoured legs. "Argh..." Onrushes of his enhanced resiliency exceedingly stoked as he bouncily torqued on his stubbier legs, and fiercely gored his curved tusks into the rhino warden's leathery flesh with no retraction of hesitance. "S-Stay down..."

He didn't know what he was doing, reacting solely on pure aggressive instinct against an oppressive jailer who wanted to torture him, he merely fought back. He should've high-tailed it and ran for the hills, maybe Strange could get a bead on him and pull him out of this mess before he wound up on a spit. But he knew he wasn't imagining things when he'd heard that voice-her voice. He recognized the sow who he had tussled with back in the pen where he believed he'd found his Selina only to be deceived by a venomous snake. But...he actually had found his Selina, only she wasn't in the shape he had expected, he realized. "Selina?" He oinked at the sow with a broken tone.

"Always the showoff, Barnes..." Selina quipped in a snarkier undertone, gruntingly as she waddled on cloven-hooves against the clamping deadweight of the iron shackled chain bruisingly hinged over her stubbier foreleg. Sconces of torchlight ethereally contrasted over the glossier sleekness of her burgundy-mahogany fur, inadvertently she grounded her bustier- curvaceous form against the spikier bars. They have bloatedly leashed down within the Oydesse's witchy enchantress porcine ranks of being chastened to breeding stocks.

Warding off vestiges of untrammelled heartache, riskily, Selina gazed into the cool steeliness of the dumbstruck sniper-hog's beadier aquamarine irises-a dishevelled thatch of chestnut roguishly fringed over the puffier sagginess of his jowelly cheeks as the puckered deformity of his shapely-bow lips menacingly fused with curvier tusks-he was a beasty hog. Stockily, Bucky wobbled closer on a lumberish pace towards her barred cell with tempoed desperation. "Guess we both got extra packaging, huh?"

The hog was speechless, having his theory confirmed without question was a shock. Selina was alive. She was a sow. The very same sow who had been fixated on him when he showed up…The same sow he'd attacked in defense of an imposter. Shame and guilt didn't begin to describe what he was feeling. How could he have not seen it? "I'm sorry, Lina. I…I didn't know." He released a remorseful grunt as he waddled towards the bars of her cage. He was oblivious to the commotion building as Dimios attempted to regain his footing and the other caged wildlife were raving like mad spectators. He thought he heard one of them scream 'kill him', egging him on to finish Dimios' while he was down. Bucky ignored the hysteria and focused only on her.

"If I had known, I'd-"

"Not the best time for this, handsome..." she grunted out, bluntly, staving down an onslaught of bone-deep tension racking over her flabbier neck-the deadlier pressure of his bionic hand that breathlessly immobilized her into a chokehold. Fervently, she yanked her delicate forehoof against the heftier weight of the chain, while Bucky shamefacedly drooped onto his chunkier haunches-doing his utmost not to release his dammed-up anguish that irrevocably raided through his plumpish form. A saltier rush dampishly trekked down the furred pudginess of his tusk-snout as he mistily gazed at her blubbery throat-knowing that his robotized grip would have unforgivingly suffocated her."You don't owe me that, Barnes..." She frisked her pinkish snout against the bars with a devious twitch. "Besides I went a little easy on you..."

He would have chuckled if had enough resilience to come back from this harrowing revelation. Instead Bucky grimaced in a pained smile, his joy at knowing Selina was alive was enough to curb the anguish over what had become of her. "I'm getting us out of here, darlin'," he vowed, not realizing the presence of two looming shadows entering the room until they towered over him. "All I need is to-aargh!" A pair of monstrous hands wrapped around his furry hide yanked him off his feet. The room spun on its axis and the hog released a comical squeal of surprise before he was lobbed across the room. He smashed into a wall of iron bars sending pain flaring throughout his body. The rumbling growl shook the room and a tremor of panic entered his gut. His blurring vision made out the form of a gargantuan...thing standing outside of his cage, sneering at him. A jackal-sentry of some kind with eyes yellow like burning hot coals.

"Foolish hog," the beast chided him before slamming the door to the cage down, imprisoning the hog within.

"No-no-damn it!" Bucky squealed out with frustration as he threw his weight against the bars. "Let me out!"

A scything clamour of dagger-like claws lashingly grazed over the bars on deadlier accord, viciously, a whitish-furred canine muzzle jutted out, catching a hoggish reek that stinkily wafted off the newest prisoner-a rotund -shaggier boar who feistily stowed bone-deep tenacity. Oinkishly, Bucky thrusted up his puckering snout as viscid blood drippily smeared over his matted grayish-chestnut fur. "You know I find pigs so boring to kill..." A raspier timbre that fringed with Arabic growlingly resonated within the ghoulish-wraithlike jackal hybrid as the metallic gleam of a khopesh crescent-sickle blindingly flashed against Bucky's stormier depths. "Just fattening in your dormant misery until I reap out your butchered souls..."

An immensely frustrated Bucky wasn't close to intimidated as he beat his weight against the bars. "You think I'm on the ropes, you ugly mutt, wait till I get out of this cage and i'll-" The guard kicked the bars with enough force to dent the bars, the collision sending Bucky to smack against the back of the cage. Pain mewled from his snout, the vestiges of his stubborn pride shattering like glass as his hearing rang like a siren. That one had hurt. The pain felt it all the way to the tips of his hooves. A painful oink emanated from his snout, the guard watching him with silent satisfaction as he laid on his side. The other wildlife had yet to cease their wild raving, prompting the jackal guard to roar at them. His volume shook the room causing the other animals to go quiet.

"On your feet, Dimios! The mistress will have your head if she learns of dissent among the cattle!" The guard chided the rhino who shook off his pain with a sneer at Bucky's cage.

Hearing the riotous pandemonium of voice-crippling squeals berserkly amplifying within the murkier barracks in distressed mania, snarlingly, the jackal sentry whipsawed his crescent-sickle with vicious- homicidal precision, cuttingly the blade ratcheted off the bars on dead-straight fruition. The odorous miasma of sweatier fur biliously wafted out of the cells as blimpish obesified hogs anguishedly thrashed against their shackles in the horrified wake."SILENCE!" A full-throated growl erupted out of him, roaringly as the maniacal intensity of his lucent-golden irises rabidly flashed down at the headstrong-potbellied boar resting droopily on the globbier bulginess of his roundish girth as Bucky chestily oinked against strained pants. "Enjoy your stay, pig, for once you become worthless in the fattening ranks I will enjoy tearing you apart...Piece by Piece."

"When I come back, I'm gonna rip out your other arm and have it for a snack," Dimios threatened a disoriented Bucky who was laid out on his side. The rhino-guardsman had the hog marked as his personal torture-toy after daring to attack him. Worse, Agron had seen the spectacle and would no doubt let the Mistress know of his folly. "What are you looking at?" He sneered at the sow in the cage beside the newcomer. Her gaze was cool and unflinching if not unnerving. He stayed his hand, knowing the sows were prizes not to be harmed. Left with no one else to bully, Dimios shuffled out of the dungeon-like pen with a limp, Agron, the jackal guardsman, soon to follow.

In Bucky's cell, the soft groaning of pain was the only indicator the hog was still conscious after the jackal's assault. Pain burned in his body like he'd been hit by a car. He wondered if he could barely move because he was hurt or because he was simply too fat in his new body to make the task easy. "Hng! Ummf!" He struggled to turn over, fighting through the pain in his side that screamed at him in protest. "Next time I'll take a horn off that mug," Bucky grumbled with soured defiance.

The boggier muddiness of the lockdown pen sludgily clung to her fleshier-cloven hooves, oinkily, Selina angled up her pinkish-furred snout against the bars as he gnashingly hefted up the droopier paunchiness of his barrel-size girth on the strenuous accord-a comical feat that dredged up a callback of blissful memories when she impishly enticed him out of the clumpier encompassing sheets of their mattress with a naughtier play of her kittenish brazenness. Despite that, he was torturously barraged with onslaughts of parasomnia-cerebral trauma that left their blankets drenched, she anchored him out of those anguished throes until he rode out the apparitional-grief-razed chimeras. "Having fun in there, Barnes..." she quipped under a gruntier breath, jocularly, watching him moodily puckered his jowelly snout into a staunchier grimace. "Do you need some help..."

"I'm-ngh! Peachy," he managed to haul himself up onto unsteady hooves. It felt like trying to balance a truck on a beam. His flabby weight jiggled repulsively and he resisted the urge to yell out his frustration. As the adrenaline of his violent encounter began to wear off, the reality of his predicament began to set in and he felt ill-prepared for its overwhelming effect. How the hell did this happen to him? To both of them? Selina was alive, he reminded himself. His search hadn't been in vain and she was now incidentally, imprisoned in the cell beside his own. Stowing his own bitter feelings of his new form, he slowly trotted towards the bars and peered at her closely. "What about you? Are you alright?" He still hated himself for attacking her and defending an imposter, but more than that he worried what had been done to her since she'd been brought here.

Hearing a crestfallen pitch underlying fringe against the murmurous gravelliness of his whiskey-roughened timbre, vehemently, Selina hammered down her chubbier fore-hoof with untampered force in reactive succession as she drove the point-blank intensity of her beadier dark irises fervidly onto the sniper-boar who bolstered the fubsier rotundity of his globous mass exhaustingly against the iron-spired bars. Gustily, Bucky emitted out snortier pants against a heart-stabbing upheaval of revamped defeat -it wasn't his fault, she was dragged into the obese menagerie of porcine ranks because she was downplayed after utilizing her thievish-virtuosic prowess of stealthier infiltration to retrieve a high-priced asset from a cheap-faced investor who bankrolled syndicate extensions for HYDRA. "Let's say it's hard to adapt to this porky makeover, handsome..." she grunted out, techily, feigning a petulant—edgier grimace over the fuzzier length of her pinkish wedge-out snout. "Every meal needs to be a hard pass, unless you want to break the scale, Barnes..."

"You sure picked a helluva person to steal from, darlin', if it landed you in this place dancin' on two sets of hooves." Bucky snarked as he wedged his snout between the bars. There was a five foot gap between their cages, the distance might as well have been the Grand Canyon for how far he felt from her. He peered at her closely, the ghoulish shadows of the cell-bars streaking across their forms. "Who's the mystery witch that wore your face? Something tells me she's not from around here?" He was in a cage, trapped in a prison that was unlock any other that wasn't made up entirely of cell-bars, but his own transformed body. The logical thing to do was panic, instead, he fell back onto his training that gave him some level of focus. Plan, assess, know your enemy and surroundings.

Hearing the derisive gravelliness of his oinkish timbre, imperturbably, Selina glared at the podgier rotundity of his stumpy form, every porcine drudge that Circe trickily leashed down into her fattening barracks was abdominous obesefied into repulsive heaps of piggish flab. Undeviatingly, her cloven-hooves glided over metallic remnants of drachma coin—archaic spoils that were discarded from bygone phalanxes of Athenian merchants-poor suckers- who got ensnared onto the dystopian island of hoggish misery.

"Didn't you Brooklyn boys ever read the Odyssey..." she deadpanned under terser breath, pointedly, as the chagrined sniper-boar gruntingly thrusted his jowelly snout against the bars."Yeah...I'm guessing those boring history classes weren't your style, huh...?" Broodingly, he razored his beadier silvery-aqueous irises onto the drachma scattered over the muddier ground of his cell. "Yeah...I'm guessing those boring history classes weren't your hardcore style, huh...?"Wonkily, Bucky scooched his girthier rotundity on vertiginous tenor, as curvier jutting of his tusks menacingly gleamed against sconces of torchlight burnishing his cindery-chestnut fur-despite being a potbellied chubb-ball, he was the smallest of the boar ranks. "Lucky for you, I know that our witchy keeper gets her century kicks by turning people into hefty porkers with don't play her rules..."

"...You're…not kidding. Of course you're not," Bucky was at a loss as he listened to this. When Strange had told him they might be dealing with a mythical threat, Bucky only took him half-seriously believing that this could have just been a delusional witch or a cultist in the wrong part of the world. But he should've known better. If the Norse gods turned out to be real, who's to say the Greeks myths weren't any different? How the hell did the world get so damned insane so fast in this day and age? "I used to love fairy-tales and legends growing up. I don't think I'll ever be able to pick up a Lord of the Rings book again after this." He oinked and paced in his cage, feeling the gravity of the situation begin to bear down on him. This was bad. If the witch was actually Circe, the sadistic man-hating sorceress of legend who made a habit of roasting sailor turned pigs on a spit, he couldn't expect to last long in this place unless he figured something out.

"What does the witch want?" He finally asked, mildly aware that there was a building tension in the pen as the other captive animals reared and groaned in anticipation of another cell opening-a bigger one. The reeking stench of sloth and sweat permeated the area nearly making Bucky choke. "Ugh, what the heck is that?"

Curbing down a tempoed onrush of her defensive repulsion, involuntarily, Selina angled up her pinkish snout against the vomitous potency of greasier- mucus-glazed flab that suffocatingly forced out a choke-off grunt. Scruching her largish nostrils, she wobbled back in earshot she bristlingly detected an intrusive-obese proximity of the voracious -lard-ass boar who lustily encroached near her cell. Roving her tigerish-brandy depths, fixedly, over the breeding pens, she caught a glimpse of a hulkishly abdominous mass squatting on his fleshier stubbed legs as the jowelly puffiness of his roundish-tusked snout hungrily plowed over chewed-off scraps of pomegranate. "Urgh..." she oinked, tersely, as the putrid raunchiness of his lecherous-carnal arousal smellily wafted off the glozing layers of squishier blubbery pudge that flaccidity overlapped his bulbously rotund form. She wouldn't become plumpishly straddled into beddable-prego compliance for a grossly jumbo-sized hog."Now that's some really bad stink for a girl to get used to..."

When Bucky first saw the shape of the behemoth waddling through the pen like a slimy turd, he thought it was some horrific thing out of Greek Mythology like the 3-headed hellhound bred to prey on tortured souls. It alarmed him to the point he nearly shirked back against the bars of his cage to make himself invisible. But then came the oinking heaving and grunting that he'd become too familiar with. The mass of furry flab shifted until a head was revealed, a face hidden by thick layers of chubbiness it almost made the beady dark eyes seem non-existent. "Is that…a boar?" The creature oinked as it swivelled its neck till it was peering in his direction. A deep sinister, all too human laughter filled the pen.

"Oi, what have we here? A new little piggy comin' into my humble abode?" The accent sounded Australian and posh, very much belonging to a man or creature who was all too used to getting what he wanted in life. The beast was big, over five and a half-feet in height and almost the same in width. He didn't so much as walk as nearly drag himself across the floor like a slug in search of something delicate to munch on. The bits of consumed fruit sticking to his furry maw flew with his spitting speech, Bucky wrinkled his snout with disgust. "Already made yerself a punching bag among the help, did ya? Ha! That was fun watching you get your teeth kicked in. Tell, me on a scale of 1-10, how much did it hurt?" He loomed in front of Bucky's cage, the size of his mass easily blotting out the light of the pen.

"I've had worse, Jabba." Bucky quipped fearlessly.

"Not really playing it smooth, Barnes..." Aware of a revamp of aggressive testosterone headstrongly glissading within her paunchy sniper-boar, Selina levelled dead-straight intensity of her beadier darkish onto the gelatinously obese slug that droopingly lumbered a breadth at her cage as viscid snot gloopily trekked out of his dampish snout. With the imperious poise of a debauched gargantuan emperor-the boorish hog- Warg, grounded his blobbier forelegs saggily against the spired iron of Bucky's cell. The grotesque slug was a two-faced business tycoon named Wallace, a backstabbing cheater who shadily gambled with the high-rigged investments-a cancerous parasite- who hungrily leeched onto syndicated assets until he was pegged into a crossfire with the Greek mafia- blood debts. Lucky for her arsenal to fire back on him, Selina had a 'name' card to play down.

"Hey, don't you have big girls to chase, Wallace ..." she grunted, jauntily, listening to Bucky huffily emitting a defensive snort as he gnashingly puckered his jowelly snout into a 'tough pig' scowl. Dragging out gruntier heaves, intimidatingly, Bucky chafed his tusks against the bars, conveying a rivalrous stalemate of hoggish-breakneck dominance. "Cool it down, handsome, I got this..."

A rumbling growl came from the hog's throat that felt more appropriate for an actual wolf than an over-sized swine, but the sound was enough to register his anger at his real name being used. "Shut your hole, you nosy wench!" He set his focus on the caged sow, though his gaze could not be seen the deliberate way he sized her up and how he licked his chops was a sure enough indicator of his lecherous appetite. "That mouth of yours is gonna get you in trouble one of these days. Unless you're lookin' to take me up on me offer to uh…roll in the hay," the hog chuckled darkly, "I can pull some strings, let you out, maybe feel the sun on that pretty fur of yours again. Huh? Whaddya say?"

Bucky beat his hooves against the cage, his fury spiking with each word the hog spewed from his mouth.

"Sorry to disappoint, big boy ..." Selina murmured in a sultrier undertone, coquettishly, as she friskily quirked up her tusked-snout into a poutier smirk, aware of the corruptive-vulgar rancidity of his salacious arousal that stinkily wafted off his bristly pinkish-gray fur. Every deceptive tactic of his free-hand charity was to sleazily back a desperate sow into the corner of his pen-leashing her into feminine compliance with his ruttish-grubby delectation. He was a maniacal-insatiable tyrant who had a 'death-grip' on each filthier broodmare that protrusively swelled-out with his litters of squirmy-milk-guzzling piglets. It was a soul-crippling reality to become catatonically shackled into breeding pens-to join the blimpishly dormant-preggy sows who exhaustingly grunted out their voiceless anguish-heartbreak. Dismissively, she pivoted on her stubbier hooves, blocking out his wanton grunts. "Look, if you're expecting me to roll over like all your other girls...It's not happening."

The boar only chuckled with sadistic amusement as he took in her blatant refusal as some form of challenge. "That's what they all say at first, sweetheart. All the pretty ones play hard to get. It's a tune I've been dancing to in this place for a while. It can be fun…but also boring the longer it plays. Don't think you can keep me dancing it for too long." He grunted threateningly as he leered at her with hungry anticipation. That was until the newcomer stole his attention by beating against the bars aggressively.

"You heard the lady. She already has me as a dance-partner. So how about you beat it, punk?" Bucky felt an irrational sense of male dominance rise up within him. A primal feeling to exert his claim and protect what he perceived to be his "mate". The boar wasn't too pleased with his butting in and proceeded to headbutt the cage and force Bucky backwards a few steps.

"The name is Warg, you impudent little s***. You better wise up. Around here in these pens, I am god and you're a little gnat i'll have squashed beneath my hoof. So you better wise-up and stay out of my business, or I'll make sure Dimios has you roasting over a spit for supper."

"Yeah, M' gonna enjoy puttin' ya on the ropes..." Bucky grunted in a snarkier pitch against the oinkish chuffiness of his gravelly drawl, he was vexatiously smart-mouthin' back at the fattish slug, tamping down the aggressive urge to deliver a thrashingly head-bashing assault into Warg's lumpish- jowelly snout. He wouldn't be taking cheap-shots for a porky Jabba the Hutt, who lustily desired to claim the fervent heat of Selina's voluptuously curvier form. Unlike the other droopy-girthed sows, the decadent- Italianesque exquisiteness of her vixenish-forbidden beauty wasn't sloughed into layers of blubbery pudge: his kotenok was too damn gorgeous. The vulnerability of her feminine- compliance was nakedly exposed on her shapelier underbelly-a torturous- smack-dab revelation that she would bloatedly exist like an expandable breeding instrument, carrying disposable litters-piglets.

He couldn't defend her with the lethal calibre of his combative tack-the fleshy stubbiness of his cloven-forehooves were moulded to wobbily lumber into muddier trenches-not clutching the hilt of a Geber tactical blade: he wasn't the Siberian beast-machine anymore. In depth-charge fruition, snortingly, Bucky wobbled against the bars with head-ramming ferocity, at that moment the hippo-sized hog, disgustingly, glazed the iron latch of Selina's cell with gloppy snot. "Argh...Get away from her!"

"Somethin' to remind you of me, love," Warg rubbed the pudgy expanse of his side against the bars of her cage, prickles of pungent sweat matted to the cold bars covering it with his stink. "When your cold dingy cell begins to feel so lonely at night, just remember all you gotta do is sing my name. I'll warm ya up," listening to Bucky's angered struggling from his cage filled with oversized boar with both satisfaction and irritation, wondering what the connection was between the two of them before they came to Circe's Island. His curiosity only lasted a moment before he shrugged with indifference. One way or another, he would make sure the runt would be dealt with and the shapely-delectable sow would find herself where she belonged: beneath him inside of his cell.

"I'd save your energy if I were you, runt!" Warg snorted as he slowly began to drag his way across the pen towards his own accommodations. "Today was only a small taste of what they have in store for you. Haha sleep tight!"

Hearing Warg's pompous grunting maniacally caromed against her floppier ears, unnervingly, Selina gnashed her tusked-teeth as the vaporous rankness of greasier pudge stinkily wafted off the iron bars; a fetid-sulphurous reek nauseously enwreathed around her. Quashing the denotive urge the rampant nosedive into a trough to evade the sicko pungency of the blimpish-covetous slug. Vehemently, Selina thunked her pinkish snout against the bars, aware of the intensified disgust that implosively rode through her voluptuous- chubbier form. "Don't worry, handsome, Jumbo, will never own me..." she murmured, ruefully, hinging onto tampered restraint against the dynamite-like fury explosively stoking through her veins on incendiary tenor. "I won't be playing nice..."

Angling the supple pudginess of her snout, feverously, Selina registered the smokier balminess of mintier—cinnamony sandalwood headily became a decadent anesthetic off the dishevelled shagginess of his grayish-chestnut fur; not the muddier grunginess of sweaty hog. "Not a bad smell on you, Barnes..." she quipped in a sassier pitch, huskily, easing down onto the squishier rotundity of her girth—reaching for him with ardent precision. Gutturally, Bucky chuffed out snortier pants, fiercely, nudging his tusked-snout against the bars until their porcine heads blindly mirrored passion-driven urgency.

"As long as you like it, darlin', it works for me," he quipped with a dry snort. His nerves were still flaring with unspent aggression towards the oversized ugly hog who thought he could have his woman-kitten. Hearing Selina's voice of reassurance helped to soothe his ire in a way he'd sorely missed. Their gazes locked between their cells and Bucky looked at her intently. "If you've had to put up with this kind of attention since you got here, darlin', that's all about to change. I know you're a girl who more often than not prefers to take care of herself. But in here...I'm gonna make it clear to anyone who tries to mess with you just who it is they're dealing with."

In those heart-stunting moments of deadlocked vulnerability that raided through their paunchier forms, mistily Selina flitted her autumn-brandy depths over remnants of his tactical kevlar tatteredly clinging on his droopier underbelly as sconces of torchlight contrastingly shimmered over the robotic servos that fleshily melded with his vibrainium fore-hoof. Staving down the kiss-starved impulse that ratcheted against her riotous heartbeat, fervidly, Selina nuzzled her plushier snout against the bristly pudginess of his tusked-snout. The grounded-intensifying closeness of their dampish snouts, breathtakingly surged into a gloried-untamed demand. "B-Bucky..."

They were caught on the savorous edge of a kiss-driven by the instinctive tempo headily gusting out of their aligned snouts as Bucky nuzzled her furrier cheek with whisper-soft pressure with reverent steadiness. Against his unkempt tresses that shaggily draped against his floppy-spaded ears, the cool steeliness of his grayish-aquamarine depths smolderingly electrified with voltaic intensity as he groaningly angled his wedge-out snout on the heavier accord, only to feel the eroded bars achingly scrape against his puffier jowls.

Against the insuppressible-forbidden need that hungrily duelled within them, moaningly, Selina braced against the rampant thrust of his puckered snout against a breathless-heated rush as the lush swollenness of her porcine mouth avidly fused with rampant pressure of a heart-liquefying kiss. Regardless of the unbearable chubbiness of their potbellied girths that heftily deterred their mobility, Selina pressed against the bars, gripping onto warred vestiges of sensuous fervour-holding onto his soul-driven promise. Every flabbier layer of her voluptuously plumpish form thrummed with evocative rhythm as Bucky gutturally snorted on hungered abandon-not letting her go. "Just stay close, handsome..." she rasped, breathily, aware that every fraction of their intimate moment was seized by the panic-razed grunting that distressingly echoed around them-a pandemonium of utter hopelessness.

"I'll get you out of this, darlin'. I promise," Bucky oinked in what he thought was a reassuring whisper. The adrenaline in his body was fading as exhaustion settled in to take its place. The aches in his joints dealt by the hard-hitting blows he endured were an extra layer of sedation luring him towards imminent slumber. He didn't want to sleep again, he was afraid of what he'd see. Another heavenly memory of bliss from their shared past, or a nightmare of their harrowing present. He fought the personal anguish in his body that was filled with self-pity and disappointment. He felt like he'd failed, that he was kidding both himself and her with his tenacious bravado. But he had to hope. He'd do whatever it took to get her out of here.

He could see Selina mimicking his actions, settling down to lay on her sides. Their snouts brushed with the barest of touches. The warmth that seeped from that brief contact gave him comfort. Together, the couple fell soundly asleep, separated but reunited.

Vy podchinyayetes', soldat?

The grunginess of his sweat-drenched tresses was featherily askew over his broader temples as fevered bleariness robbed his peripheral vision. Suppressing his jack-up aggression, consciously he registered the bone-vising pressure of titanium clamped bruisingly over his tensing wrist as the whirring electromagnetic pulse of mechanized hydraulics alarmingly surged through his veins in panicked tenor. Blurringly, he caught fleeting glimpses of HYDRA lab coats tentatively encroaching closer to him-the sterile potency of disinfectant assailed within the lockdown bank vault that was a snake pit of HYDRA. "N-No..." he murmured in gruntier pitch, croakily, shifting the bulkier resiliency of his corded thighs against the modified dentist chair he was being forcibly strapped for an electroshock purge of his cerebral recesses-he was being immobilized into heavier deadweight. Raggedly, he emitted an oinkish breath against the constricting Kevlar of his tactical vest that was tatteredly sheathed over the blobbier doughiness- obese rotundity of his protrusive-bulgy mid-section. "W-What..."

The bulging mass of his own restrained body was surreal and horrifying. Leathery flesh was covered with waves of dark fur. The shackled strength of his appendages were nothing but twisted sticks with fur all over them topped off by chapped hooves. The numbing ache in his body didn't so much as come from the pain he endured by the feeling of total inhumanity in his being. So he grunted, he struggled like a man being dragged to the gallows waiting to face the hangman's noose. He caught a glimmering shape at the corner of his eye. Something looking at him? A reflection...a broken one of a helpless animal. "Net! Net! Chto eto?! Chto ty delayesh' so mnoy? (No! No! What is this? What are you doing to me?)" What had they done to him? Why had they done this to him? He was supposed to be a soldier-a weapon. Not thing...this thing!

Everything seemed twisted and distorted. The murmuring voices surrounding him were accompanied by blurred faces. None paid him mind. None except for one. A tall well-dressed man speaking to a lab-coat. He shifted his cold blue eyes towards him, smirking as if proud but there was nothing but cruelty in his voice.

"I gave the directive for Captain America to be eliminated before Project Insight goes online..." A malicious cadence sternly resonated out of Alexander Pierce as he scrapingly dragged out a metallic stool in front of the dentist's chair, the callous gleam of his silvery-cobalt irises angrily roved over the discarded graphite bevor-muzzle-that was on the medical trolley. A semblance of revulsion etched over his worn-down features as he gazed at the freakish -porcine deformity of the Asset's tusked-snout. "Your lethal efficiency has been compromised..." Easing down his wrinkled hand, tauntingly Piece reached within his white-coat, gripping a packaged Twinkie. "Now you'll be a pig for HYDRA...Something for Melina Vostokoff to experiment on for obedience commands ..."

"I'm not finished!" He squealed out, defiant and terrified to his bones; feelings he shouldn't be experiencing. He should be complying with their wishes, he should be empty, he shouldn't think. But he was. A voice rose up from the depths of his psyche and roared out in a bid for freedom. "LET ME GO! STOP!" The well-dressed man, his superior officer, had merely thrown the pasty treat at him as if he were a pitiful stray that deserved only to be spat on. "I will-I-ngh!" He felt cruel hands grab ahold of his neck, forcing him into a straight posture. A familiar sadistic voice hissed into his ear. The voice of a man who wanted nothing but to see him suffer.

"Hold still, piggy. This is gonna hurt, and I'm gonna enjoy it." Brock Rumlow grinned savagely as he secured a strap around the pig's throat, locked him back against the headrest. The whirring sound of electrodes being prepared pierced through his haze of torment. "I will not comply! NO!"

The bone-jerking pressure of Rumlow's brutish hand forced him against the chair, snortier heaves jackhammered breathlessly through the paunchier globbiness of his Kevlar-garbed chest as the circular machinery pulsingly haloed over his furrier-jowelly cheeks that Rumlow nastily squeezed. "Open up, porky..." Tamping down whimpery oinks as he vomitously choked against the rubbered mouthguard gliding over the swelled puffiness of his deformed lips, thrashingly, he gnashed tusked-teeth at the second his wedged-out snout to bleedingly grazed the HYDRA enforcer's gloved hand.

"Grgh..." A seething hiss erupted out of Rumlow as he malignantly yanked the Soldier's dishevelled-shaggier tresses with breakneck viciousness, mirroring the razored steeliness that piercingly gleamed into his bleared aquamarine depths. "Oh, you got a little fight left in you, huh...Oinkin' freak..." he taunted out, raspily, gazing at the blimpish -girthier swollenness burstingly straining underneath the Kevlar vest as glozing blubbery pudge fleshily overlapped the hoggish Asset's jutting navel. "Woah...I guess my boys are gonna have fried bacon tonight..."

The searing pain of the electro-shocks piercing his skull brought about the feeling of being on fire from within. Any defiance he would have directed at Rumlow evaporated in a shrilling squeal of agony. "Not again! NOT AGAIN!" His world was burned away in a bright light that blinded him. The haunting echo of his own screams lingered as the whiteness dimmed into obscurity. The pain simmered with it. And then there was nothing-just a black cold emptiness where the warmth of conscience thought was no longer there. The cold was irksome, causing him to roll about restlessly. No light, no sun. Just the polished surface of metal beneath his mass to keep him grounded in a state of abandonment.

A churning in his stomach, gripping and untenable. Hunger. He was hungry. He searched the darkness finding only metal bars as his companion. But there was a waft close-by. He sniffed, his senses were alive as the aroma of fruit crossed his brain. He dragged himself towards it. He couldn't move. Too heavy, but it didn't matter. He was hungry. Chewed pieces of apple and grains were spewed out over the floor, he sniffed them, flicking fresh bits into his mouth. It wasn't enough. He was hungry. Still hungry. The scent was stronger, he dived head-first into it, mouth open. The richness of nourishment bombarded him with a gluttonous focus.

A pale streak of light coming from a flashlight moved across his cell, reflecting across the floor the mountain's mass of pig fat that was his body. It didn't matter. It was a face without a name.

He was hungry…He would always be hungry. That's all he knew.

As the fudgy decadence of cameral-drizzled brownies appetizingly wafted off the granite countertop, vexatiously, Selina braced the lithe svelteness of her garbed back against the fridge, splaying her daintier palm over the globous swollenness that ballooningly jutted underneath her lacey pink swing-dress as she registering the quickening-gut-punching vibrations of her feistier twins. Collectively, she whirled on her puffier feet with balletic graces, as her autumn-brandy irises brusquely glanced at the summer bake sale flyer pinned on the fridge.

"Okay...Let's get this over with..." she murmured out, tersely, listening to the front door infuriatingly open on routine succession. "Handsome, are you home...?" With tentative advances, she waddled out of the polished kitchen on fervent tenor, steelily gazing at her potbellied -tubbier husband who huffily grunted out his warring frustration. Underneath his loose-fitted shirt, the plumper droopiness of his roundish midriff bloatedly expanded as he piggishly munched on a greasier doughnut on slobbier accord."I'm guessing you already had your fill, Barnes..." she rebuffed, pointedly, gazing at the purplish remnants of blueberry jelly disgustingly smudged over the jowelly heaviness of his dimpled chin as his stuffier cheeks flabbily puckered his shapely-bow lips into a boarish grimace. Curbing down her fervent irateness, Selina glared at the bulbous rotundity of his paunchier abdomen that repulsively jiggled as he swaggeringly plodded -his fleshier hand possessively reaching over her curvaceous-bustier form. " Urgh...Now that's a lot of extra packing for this girl to handle, porky..."

"Nothing wrong with a little afternoon snack before the main course, darlin'," Bucky Barnes said with a lopsided smirk at his shapely-wide lips. Despite his attempt at being charming, there was an evident if not tragic decline to his charming state. His voice that was suave and cool was about as tired as a hungover sloth unwilling to get out of bed. His manly scent of musk and sandalwood was replaced by the reek of alcohol and sugar. Bucky's eyes were glued to his wife's frame, drinking her in with hungry appreciation till they fell upon the countertop. He visibly sniffed and his grayish-aquamarine ireses were suddenly wide and alight with ravishing intent. "Speaking of-" he made his way towards her and delectable tray of treats behind her. "Are those brownies I smell? Aw, babe you shouldn't have-"

"I don't think so, handsome..." With a depth-charge reaction, arrestingly Selina braced her daintier palms against the stiffened leather of his threadbare jacket, registering the blobbish doughiness of his paunchier mid-drift cushily melding over the jutted-out swollenness of her girthier-preggo-bump. "Umph..." Groaningly, she reached for the brownie platter with blinded precision as the odorous reek of Jack Daniels smellily wafted off the grunginess of his unkempt chestnut tresses; staunching down a pukish onrush, quickly she pivoted on her socked-feet with balletic ease, knowing he was indifferently grappled into throes on unstoppable-piggish hunger. Dragging his teeth waggishly over his poutier underlip, evident to his rascally nose scrunch, maddeningly Bucky emitted out a snortier chuckle as the jowelly pudginess of his scruffier jaw tensed against huffier grunts. As she grabbed the platter at the countered second he clumsily reached to swipe off a brownie. "If you want one, Bucko, you have to make dinner tonight...No exceptions."

"Sure I can order some Chinese, beats having to do any dishes after," he offered, using one of his arms to help steady his pregnant wife's body while his other hand tried to reach for one of the square chocolatey pastries. When he saw the firey displeasure in her eyes, the working part of his mind that wasn't obsessed with food and drinking took heed of the danger he could find himself in and he relaxed his hand, putting on a pouty twist of his lips. "C'mon, darlin'. Pretty please?" Entranced by her floral scent, his nose bristled near her hair, his puffy lips still specked with jelly from a donut he stuffed down his throat an hour earlier sought out the smooth creamy surface of her neck and jaw. A different type of hunger was soon to take hold of him as his eyes fell absent and were controlled by rampant urges to consume.

"Bucky..." An intrusive clamour of the doorbell echoed within the kitchen, on a defensive accord, vehemently Selina gestured for him to answer their front door. Giving her a sourish glare, huffily, Bucky plodded his wobbling advances closer to the cherry-wood door. At the moment he turned the knob clockwise, he was dumbfoundedly floored by the heart-stealing vixenish stranger curvaceously braced against the doorframe- a Grecian siren- alluringly garbed the silkiness of a black Versace mini-dress that exquisitely contrasted her lustrous chocolaty whorls glossily draped over sweetheart décolletage voluptuously fringed against the bustier suppleness her delectable breasts-she was a temptress incarnate. The olive-bronze sleekness of her elfish features stealingly entranced accentuated the full-bow lushness of her pillowy lips as she flitted her ebony-hazel irises onto Bucky with thievish intensity.

"Well hello there, beautiful!" Bucky had uttered the captivated words as if he were locked in a lustful spell. The woman was all pretty curves honed with soft muscles. She must've been a gymnast or a yoga-practitioner as she seemed to exude strength and energy. His mind was a mess of c*** thoughts as they swept over her womanly physique, he missed the wicked gleam in her violet eyes as they peered at him like a serpent with malicious-intent. "What can uh, I do for you?" He asked as he made a quick attempt to appear manly by reclining against the door which only caused the roundish pudge of his bulging belly to push out further from his shirt.

Watching the boarish slob's poutier shapely-bow lips cockily quirk into a toothier smirk, feigning repulsion, malefically her cherry-red lacquered nails dragged against the paper bag that she temptingly clutched with gluttonous enticement as the greasier scent of Boston cream doughnuts stuffed inside gripped Bucky into a hoggish stupor-she needed to fatteningly amputate out hunkier traces of his athletic-honed resiliently that bulkily corded over the hard-edged contours of his tauten bicep-leash him down into the porcine throes of obese drudgey.

"I hope you do not mind this intrusion.." she purred in a sultrier cadence, witchily flashing her dark irises onto the blubbery globbiness of his chunkier mid-drift that repugnantly drooped over his denim-clad waistband like lumpish sludge. The razored angularity of his scruffier knife-cut features chubbily fused into puffier jowls-the hideous vestige of a rotund boar. In moments of her chimeric-seductive trance would catatonically usher Bucky into the mud heap of her listless-overstuffed boars while his voluptuous---kittenish mate would plumpishly spawn insatiable litters. First, she needed to play off the charade of the good neighbour. "I just baked these decadent pleasures for you..."

His spell of hunger had shifted from one of lust to a gluttonous haze once he caught the scent of baked goodness coming from the tray. The rumbling in his belly had intensified in the wake of being denied his home-cooked dessert only to be tempted by a new offering. It was perhaps poetic and a trial that men everywhere faced. Bucky could feel Selina's gaze on him and he looked back at her with a strained but reassuring look. "Thanks, miss, but uh I'll have to pass," he said to the violet-eyed woman. "I'd be cheatin' on my diet if anything," Bucky joked but felt an inkling of dread as the woman's gaze became sharper in his polite rebuttal. It didn't matter. He feared the wrath of his pregnant wife more than a stranger that just moved in next door.

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