#sebby fic

[thebeesarebusy]

Fic ideas? Asks are always open.

Sun/Moon x reader

Sebastian solace x reader

Pest (regretevator) x reader

Please please please send requests and ideas and etc <3

[thebeesarebusy]

literally the plot of my expendable fic

[drdawnbreaker]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐊𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐈𝐧 𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐒𝐨𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐀𝐫𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐫 ☆ 𝐁.𝐁

Synopsis: Bucky was a myth amongst men. Yet here he stood, ready to protect you and take you away from the cruel life you lead... The only catch is you have to give him something in return... your hand in marriage.

Word count: 7.78k

Genre: Smut. Fantasy. Angst.

Pairing: Chief!Orc!Bucky x Princess!Fae!Reader

Warnings: Swearing. Blood. Gore. Reader is heavily conflicted with herself and was abused by her family in the past. Fighting. Dry humping. Yelling. Crying. Cocky Bucky. Kinda mean Bucky at the start. Self hatred. Drooling. Mocking. Pet names. Dirty talking. Multiple orgasms. Unprotected sex.

Note: I want to state that, for the most part, this can be read as dub-con kinda fic. But I want to assure you that nothing terrible happens in this story. I don't want to spoil anything, but please read this with caution. If anything in the warnings triggers you, or if anything in the fic triggers you, please, for your sake and mine, do not read this fanfiction. Thank you

Also, I'm really proud of this, and I definitely enjoyed writing this type of genre. So please give it all the love you can ahh.

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White Wolf: A fierce warrior and saviour of the world. He is the chief of one of the largest orc clans there have ever been. Most knew him as cruel, dangerous, and unforgiving. His people had raided village after village, and now here he was directing his beastly men to capture any humans, Elvin and Fae, they could find. But what no one knew was that he was looking for someone in particular, a sweet little fae to be his chieftess.

A princess to be exact.

There were rows and rows of cages. Humans and fae alike chained and scared. No one moved, not even much of a peep as the orc chief walked past each and every one of the enclosures. It was only when he got to your cage that he stopped. His eyes fell onto your shaking figure in nothing but tatted rags. His lips curled into an evil smirk.

You noticed the presence in front of you, shuffling yourself until your back hit the cold wall behind you. You gulp with a dry mouth, fear crackling down your body. White Wolf chuckled, walking right up to the bars of the cage, his eyes never leaving you. The other orcs quickly parted to make way for their leader, letting the chief get the perfect view of his reward. "And who might you be, sweet thing?"

White Wolf knew who you were. In fact, you were the exact Fae he had been searching for. But he loved the way you shifted under his gaze; he couldn't help himself. Your eyes raked over the orc, seeing his armour and white wolf skin cloak. His deep green skin was a stark contrast to the bloodied metal and fur.

"I'm the Fae princess of Ellegard." Your words were small, barely a whisper, even though you tried to sound authoritative. The orc whistled to the guard, indicating for the cage to be opened, which the other orc followed suit swiftly. He stepped into the cage, towering over you with his huge figure, his smug smile hiding a bit of concern but never faltered from its sinisterness.

"A fae princess? My, my, how. Delicate." His deep voice made you gulp with a strange tingle in your gut, causing your wings to shiver slightly. His head tilted at the sight, his eyes darkening. "Stand."

You listened, standing tall on your shaky limbs. You were covered in dirt, even your wings stained with grime. His thick hand came up to gently brush along your appendage, dusting off some of the muck, watching the sparkles move along his fingers as he did. "Such pretty things... it would be a shame if they were to break."

You gasp, taking a step back, almost falling, but his hand comes to grab your waist quickly, holding you up. "No, please. I can't live without my wings."

He smirked again as he heard your sweet little gasp. His hand tightens on your waist while the other continues to run along the veins of your sheer appendages. "I could easily rip them off you if I wanted to. You're at my mercy, little princess."

Your hand comes up to brush against his chest, feeling the cold metal under your small hand. A tear pricked the corner of your eye as you watched him with a pleading gaze while he continued to touch you. "P-please. Don't hurt me."

He pouted mockingly as he carefully wiped the tear away with his thumb. For an orc, he was extremely gentle—almost caring. "Awe, don't cry. I have no intention of hurting you. All you will be doing is proving yourself to me."

"P-proving?" You finally meet his gaze, staring deep into his pitch-black eyes. His smile grows as he nods, loosening his grip on you. He walks back over to the bars of the cage, running a finger along the rust.

"Yes, prove yourself. Prove that you're worthy of being my Cheiftess. That you're strong enough to be by my side and rule my clan with me." He turns back around with a determined look. An almost crazed gaze in his eyes.

You stare at him with shock, covering your mouth with your hand to mumble, "Chieftess!? You want to take me as a wife!"

He chuckled, a deep, guttural sound. "That's right. I've been looking for someone to be my wife, someone to rule beside me and bear my children. And you, little princess, have caught my eye."

You looked towards the locked door and noticed you were completely alone. All the orc guards had left you alone with him... You gulped, "But... you're an orc, and I'm a fae..." Your eyes briefly wander down to the cloth that hides his lower half. "We are of different sizes..."

He follows your gaze before letting out a low, amused laugh. "Ah, yes. The size difference. That doesn't matter, little one. I'm certain we can make it work."

You swayed a little from side to side, unsure of what to say. Or what to do. Your mind was all over the place, from the war only breaking out a moon ago to laying awake in a Dungeon, crying yourself to sleep while begging for death to take you away. You had no idea who had raided your home, only hearing whispers from others that the man was cruel and beastly. You still would have never thought it would be him. The beast of myth. The creature you read about in text. James Bucky Barnes... the White Wolf. The great change.

Bucky was right next to you when you shook the fog from your eyes. He was so close to the point that you could feel the heat of his body once again. His voice dropped to a low, sultry tone. "Are you afraid, princess? Afraid of what I might do to you? Or what I might make you do?"

Your eyes widened, stuttering, "I... I don't know."

He chuckles, his hand reaching up to gently caress your cheek. "Well, I'm gonna take that as a yes. So don't worry, you're pretty little head. I'm gonna take good care of you." His touch was so gentle, so comfortable. You couldn't help but feel completely conflicted by his actions and his words. Never in your life would you ever think someone would speak so softly towards you. Calling you such sweet names. Actually, look at you instead of through you... And it also happened to be by enemy number one.

From the destruction of your home and the increasing number of orcs that would outweigh your species. Deep down, you knew there was no other choice than to play along until you could escape and find your family. So you nod slowly to him, accepting his offer.

He smiles, his hand moving from your cheek to your chin, gently tilting your head up to look at him. "Good girl. You're a fast learner. I like that. Now, let's get you out of this cage, shall we?"

You nod again, choosing to stay silent for the moment. He simply grins, his eyes glistening with a mix of lust and excitement as he reaches into his pocket to pull out a key. He moves from your body to unlock the cage door before reaching his hand out for you to take. "You're mine now, princess, and I intend to make sure you never forget it."

You yelp as he grabs your wrist, pulling you snugly against him. The grip was firm but not painful. There was tenderness hidden beneath. "Now, let's get you cleaned up. You're a mess, princess."

You follow him close, eyeing where everything is. Fires burning, tents set up everywhere. Your home was as good as gone. And you didn't know how to feel about it. Anger? Joy? The looming question was if your parents—the king and queen—were even still alive. He led you through the back end of the camp, his hands still wrapped around your wrist as he guided you into a huge tent. He pushes the flap aside as he leads you inside, the interior of the tent dimly lit by a few lanterns hanging from the ceiling.

The tent is spacious, with a large couch-like bed on the left side with a few chairs and tables scattered around the edge. There was also a small fire pit in the middle of the tent, and a few animal pelts laid out on the floor around it. "Welcome to my quarters, princess. You'll be staying here for now until we can go home."

"Home..." You whispered with a gulp as you held your stomach. The large orc noticed your nervous expression. He gave you a gentle, toothy smile, eyes raking over your shaky body.

"You look scared, princess. Don't worry, I won't bite," he leans down to whisper in your ear, "much."

Your eyes widen as you look around the room, slowly trying to free your hands from his tight grip. Panic suddenly set in. The sudden need to run was becoming increasingly prominent.

He noticed you trying to free your hands, so he tightened his grip, pulling you closer to him. "Ah ah ah, no escaping, princess. You're mine now, remember? You can't go anywhere without my permission."

You felt a nerve snap. "Yes, I'm aware of that." You speak bluntly. "I just wish to have my hands free." You look at him with a squinted expression, annoyance lingering in your tone. "I will not flee. I promise."

He eyes you for a moment, studying your face before finally relentingly, releasing your wrists. "Very well, princess. But remember, you're still my prisoner. You do as I say when I say it. Understood?"

You rub your red-pained wrists as you sigh, "I understand."

He smiles, satisfied with your response. Walking over to a large chest, he opens it to pull out a simple sheer sleep-like dress. "Put this on. It'll be more comfortable than those filthy rags you're wearing."

You gaze upon the fabric he's holding, taking it slowly from him. The silk was soft, almost like royal Elvin. It was only when you held it against your frame that you noticed. This is mine!? Your eyes widened, snapping back up to see his smug face, almost as if he had read your mind. No words were exchanged, though, only longing looks and thickening tension. That was until you spoke softly, "C-could you... Turn around while I change."

Bucky simply raised a brow at your request. He eyes your figure one last time before complying with your words, turning around with arms tightly crossed. "There, happy now, Princess?"

You couldn't help but sigh lightly, feeling like you could breathe again. No longer under his strong gaze. "Yes, I am." It was a quick response, but he could hear the sweetness in your tone, making him aware there was a smile on your delicate features.

Staring at his armour-covered back, you can finally take in the detail on the metal now that the pelt he had draped on was gone. The flower design on the outer lining. The cloth wrapped around his waist was thick leather, most likely the skin of a dragon. You had an expectation in your head from the books, but actually seeing him in person was a different story. You couldn't seem to shake the tingle in your gut the moment you saw him. Confliction raiding your mind. A part of your brain was overjoyed; he was the one who captured you, and the other was screaming that orcs are nothing but beasts. You could hear your mother screaming at you, calling you tainted for even thinking such a beast could be an equal to your own species.

But then again, no one was equal to Fae. She hated all other creatures, considering all of them as slaves or peasants. Your father would even strike you if you ever tried to suggest otherwise. But your feelings did not matter. The longing did not matter. Nothing did. Only your parents mattered. Only the kingdom mattered. You had a duty, and you had to follow it. Otherwise, you are unclean.

Bucky’s low chuckle caught you out of your thoughts—that you hadn't even noticed you slipped into. His head shook, still facing away from you. "You're a shy princess. I have to admit it's adorable. But you need to hurry up, little one. I don't have a lot of time."

You sporadically look around the room in search of the exit. Once spotting it, without another thought, you jump into flight, weaving towards it. But as you reached for the slit in the tent, Bucky turned around just in time to see what you had planned. Surprise painted his expression as he lunged forward, grabbing you by the waist before rotating you so he could hold you flush against his chest.

"Oh no, you don't, princess. You're not going anywhere." His voice was right in your ear as you thrashed against him, flapping your wings with all the strength you could muster.

He grins, clearly enjoying your attempts to escape. Holding you tightly against his chest, his arms wrapped around you like a vice grip. But from the powerful wind of your wings, he lost his balance, falling back onto the couch with a grunt. "Stop struggling, princess. You're only making it harder for yourself."

You didn't listen; your body beginning to panic, but not because of being held by him. Your whole life had crumbled in one night. You felt guilty and refused to admit that you were happy about it. You try to wiggle off him, your hand hitting his armour. Your legs fell on either side of his waist, making you fall more snugly against him. He let out a low growl, feeling you rub against him in a way that sends shivers down ones spine. He tightens his grip on you even more, his hands roaming over your body, finding the base of your wings. "I said, stop struggling, little one. You're only making this more fun for me."

Your wings had stopped their flapping, but your hips continued to buck. He let out a sharp gasp, his head tilting back slightly, feeling your little frame struggle against him. Your clothed pussy was rubbing against his growing cock so nicely, he couldn't help himself from feeling more and more aroused with each passing breath. "Oh, princess... you're playing with fire now."

He used the hand that was at the base of your wings to snake up to grab a fist full of your hair, tugging you back, forcing you to look up at him. "You're feisty, you know that."

There was rage clouding your judgement, all the pent-up aggression you had bottled up for years, finally overspilling, but you were yelling at the wrong person, "I will never listen! Never submit. I didn't ask for any of this!" You finally settled, but only to hit him against his metal-covered chest.

"I have had people try to mould me into their perfect tool. But they had all failed. I will never listen." You hit him again, your knuckles starting to redden. "I'm not your perfect little daughter. I will never be... pure enough... for you." Tears rolled down your red, flustered cheeks, your knuckles bloody and bruised. You finally stopped, sobbing quietly while your forehead fell against his chest.

His expression becomes unreadable as he watches your little outburst. He had been told by one of his informants that you were being abused by your family, but he didn't expect you to be so...broken. He couldn't help but feel the desire to slaughter everyone who had hurt you. His grip on your hair loosened. "You do not have to be perfect for me..." He lifted up your face to wipe your tears as he said your name for the first time tonight.

Your face was inches from his, and you hadn't realised until the cool breeze brushed over your shoulder that while struggling, one of his claws must have torn the strap to your shirt, exposing your soft skin slightly. "Looks like your clothes are getting a little torn up, princess. I guess I got a little too rough with you during our struggle."

You blushed, looking away from him. "Then unhand me." Even though you tried to speak firmly, you no longer made an effort to move, feeling like all your adrenaline had finally washed away. You had become vulnerable in front of the enemy... Maybe your mother was right. You were simply just useless.

He gave out a lowly chuckle, fully loosening his grip on you. His hand rested on your hip while the other ran a finger along your exposed flesh. "And why should I, baby? I think I quite like having you in my arms."

"You cannot hold me in your arms forever." You huff, placing both my hands on his strong chest, moving to sit completely straight, staring up at him.

"Maybe not forever, but for now, I shall hold you. And I'm going to enjoy every moment of it." He smirks as he pulls you closer to him. You lean back in annoyance, taking in his whole demeanour. Your arms cross over your chest, pushing your breasts up, making more cleavage pop out the top of your rags. You notice his eyes flicker down to your chest, lingering on the plump flesh for a moment before snapping his stare back up to your face. "You poor sweet thing. Why would anyone ever want to hurt you..."

You were stunned by his words, feeling your heart race at his softness. Noticing your shocked silence, Bucky had to smile brightly, his tusks being shown off proudly in the grin. "You are too cute. And I bet you'd look even cuter under me."

You growled, almost sounding like an angry cat at his inappropriate remark. You couldn't lie to yourself though, knowing just how much his words affected you. But he didn't need to know that. He chuckled nonetheless, clearly amused by the noise that left your lips. He had to stroke your hair, which was surprisingly gentle as he whispered, "You're even cute when you're angry, princess."

You go to move off him again, feeling his hands loose on your frame, but when you shifted you felt your lower half rub against his half-hard cock, making you suddenly deathly aware of the situation you had gotten yourself into. You froze. "..I..."

Bucky let out a deep grumble, bucking his hips lightly while his hands tightened once again on your hips, stilling you. "You're playing with fire again. Keep doing that, and I won't be able to control what happens next."

Your gaze flutters towards what lies beneath you, seeing the large outline under the cloth and leather he is wearing. He's huge... You gulp. The orc seemingly noticed your eyes travel down, making him smirk with pride. "See something you like, Princess?" He taunts.

Snapping your head back up, you look around the room with brightened red cheeks, trying to calm your racing heart rate. "N-no..."

He growled, his smirk growing wider. "You're a terrible liar. The look on your face says everything. You were staring at my cock, weren't you, princess?"

You stutter, feeling yourself wanting to crumble into a ball and hide forever. "I don't know what you are talking about..."

Bucky grabs your chin, forcing you to look back at him. His deep, almost pitch-black eyes bore holes into your own as he read your expression. You couldn't help but clench around nothing, a pulse shifting through your cunt. He could feel every movement, making him groan while his cock twitched in response. He had to pull you closer, his hand exploring your figure. "By the gods, you drive me crazy, princess."

"Good." You poke your tongue out like some child throwing a tantrum. But Bucky was quick, snatching your tongue between his fingers. He gripped your wet appendage firmly but not too painfully.

"Careful now. You've been testing my patience all night. If you keep this up, I will punish you, darling." Your eyes widen at his action, your body shaking at the new nickname. Your mouth has to open more as his thumb pushes against your tongue, watching it create a bundle of saliva which started to leak out onto your chin and his hand. His eyes hollow with growing desire as he stares at the drool, watching it drip onto your lap. "You look so pretty like this, princess. All messy and helpless. I could do anything I want to you right now, and you wouldn't be able to stop me."

Your wings flap in annoyance as a high-pitched noise leaves your throat. His grip on your tongue tightens slightly as he mocks, "Oh, don't give me that look, princess. You brought this on yourself. You were being a brat, and now you're paying the price."

You let out a huff through your nose, mimicking the way Orc's huff when they are displeased. That made Bucky raise his brow, but then you ground your hips against him, causing his fingers to loosen off your tongue. He looked at you with a mix of surprise and lust in his eyes, watching you pull away from his grip. "Fuck you have no idea how badly I want to lose control."

It was like the world had stopped, like nothing mattered anymore. And for the first time, the power was in your hands. You weren't a doll to be dressed up and manipulated by others. You weren't a toy to be thrown around and forgotten the next. You had power and wanted to see what you could do with it. "If you want to lose control so badly, Why don't you?"

His grunt was animalistic, rumbling up his throat, his eyes narrowing even more at the challenge you gifted him. "You're asking for it, darling. Don't say I didn't warn you."

Before you could let out any snarky reply, the large orc tipped you back until you were both falling towards the floor. He held onto you tightly, his one hand bracing your head while the other held your waist, easily manhandling you onto the soft pelts that lay spread on the floor by the fire. A small 'oof' left your lips as you watched Bucky above you with pure surprise. His grin was toothy, his huge frame caging you snuggly. "You look so good like this, darling. Laying here, at my mercy. You have no idea what thoughts are running through my mind right now."

You rolled your eyes without a thought, wiggling slightly with a small pout. This caused him to chuckle, using one of his hands to grip your chin again, but this time squishing your cheeks together. "Oh, you think you're so tough, princess? Trying to act like you're not enjoying yourself right now. But I know deep down. This is all you've ever wanted. Like you said, you'll never be pure for your family. For your kingdom. So why not just fully commit to it?"

You gulp, feeling your pointed ears redden as your gaze never left his. He was right. You both knew it. You had dreams of being swept away. Having the saviour come to rescue you from your royal prison. But a part of you—the part that still is her family's little princess—wanted to stay, prove you were pure enough. Make your family proud. It was pitiful, really.

"Come on, darling? I can see the effect I have on you. Your ears and face, are all red and flushed. Your hips are bucking at every movement. The staggered pants and lust-filled eyes. You're enjoying this. You like being pinned down by a big, strong orc like me."

You shook your head no, and you don't even know why. Stop fighting, you screamed to yourself. Your parents never loved you. No one ever looked at you. But Bucky...he was looking at you and not just as a prize to be won or a trophy to be left on a stand. He looked at you like you were real. Like you deserved attention. Like you were the only thing left in this god-forsaken realm.

His expression was unreadable again, his hand moving from your chin to your hair, stroking the strands gently with a sigh. "You're a terrible liar. Must I repeat that? I can see right through you. Why must you be too stubborn to admit it?"

"I..." You stop yourself, watching his gaze never leave your own. His hand that sat on your waist, moved delicately upwards, slowly sliding along your body, feeling the tattered rags beneath the pads of his fingers.

He leans down, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, "I just need a yes, and I can make anything you've ever dreamt of come true. You're mine now, and I'm gonna make sure you never forget." Your whole body was shaking as he continued to move his hand along your figure. His touch is gentle but possessive at the same time.

"P-please..." You whisper, your eyes fluttering closed, your body giving in to temptation. He moves his mouth to your neck, his breath tickling your skin, but he doesn't inch closer.

"That's not a yes, darling." He grunts, his other hand moving from your hip to your thigh, pushing them open gently, holding you in place as he continues to explore your body. He watches the way your brows scrunch and your eye seal shut. The way your hips beg for friction and your mouth parts, desperate for another. But he still needed to hear you say it. He needs that single word to leave your lips.

A long, deep sigh left your lungs, but no matter how hard you tried, the word you needed didn't come out. It was like someone had held your mouth closed or taken the word from your vocabulary. And then you had an idea. Opening your eyes, you are met with Bucky’s soft gaze. White Wolf was gone from his expression, leaving only him. "...Mok..." [yes]

Bucky froze, staring down at you with narrowed eyes. He couldn't believe what he had heard. You...his delicate little fae, speaking Orcish. He smiled toothly, closing the gap between his lips, latching his tongue on the hot skin of your neck. He kissed and nibbled at your jugular, his hand on your thigh gently stroking the soft skin. You spread your legs without much control, feeling yourself finally relax under him. He chuckles, his hand moving to rest on the inside of your thigh, his fingers gently tracing circles on your skin that was close to your dripping core. "That's it, Darling. Open up for me. Let me see all of you."

He takes in the way your body finally relaxes, seeing all your defences slowly wash away. His lips travel along your collarbone, where he starts to place kisses and gentle nibbles, feeling the way your body reacts to his touch. Your eyes are completely shut now while your hands unclenched from being fists. Your legs spread further, feeling the cloth that was covering your lower half now riding up your figure ever so slightly. His hand moved higher up your thigh, his fingers tracing along the hem of the fabric covering you, teasing the cotton. He pulls back slightly, his eyes roaming over your body as he takes in the sight of you spread out beneath him.

"You never need to have fear ever again..." He whispers against your skin, hearing you moan as his hand moves even higher up your plump flesh, his fingers brushing against the edge of your panties. "...Bin mog g'thazag cha.." [I will protect you]

You felt tears run down your face as you heard his sweet words in his native tongue. The feeling of his fingers on your clothed cunt makes your hips buck and a whimper to leave your trembling mouth. He watches as your hips buck and you let out a whimper, his eyes darkening with desire. He leans down to whisper in your ear again, "So responsive, Darling. You're so sensitive. I can feel how much you want me, even through your wet panties." You feel him pull your panties to the side seeing your soaked pussy in his full. He swore he almost busted a nut right then and there. He couldn't feel but have a satisfying smirk on his face as he took you all in, "Look at that, Baby. You're so wet for me. Do you need me to touch you?"

You whimper at the cool air hitting your cunt feeling the need for more. Your hips bucking as you finally open your eyes to look up at him pleadingly, "P-please Bucky..."

He grins triumphantly, his hand moving to gently stroke your pussy, cupping it entirely. "So you do know my name, Darling..." He continues to stroke you, bringing his pointer finger to your clit, moving in slow teasing circles. "You're gonna moan my name so beautifully. I love hearing the sounds you make when I touch you. It's like music to my ears."

"Please more, Bucky." You admit.

He chuckles, his fingers moving faster as he gives you what you want. "That's a good girl, begging for more. I love seeing you like this, all needy and desperate for me. I'lI give you more, don't worry. I'lI give you everything you need and more."

You nod at his words, grinding your hips against his fingers, feeling yourself creep closer to your climax. He watched in awe, as he let out a grunt, "That's it, Darling. Fuck yourself on my fingers. Let yourself feel the pleasure. You're so close, I can feel it. Just a little bit more, and you'll come for me. Take all of it. All this pleasure is yours to take."

It didn't take long for all your pent-up emotions to come breaking through the gates, tipping you over the edge, as you come against your big orcs fingers. "Fuck..."

"That's it. Such a good girl. I knew you could do it. You're such a good girl when you listen to me." He chuckles as he pulls his hand away, watching a string of your juices soaking his fingers, even some of it leaking out onto the pelt below you. Bucky’s eyes roll back as he takes his fingers inside his mouth, tasting the sweetness that is you, all the while you stare in disbelief, having never seen such a hot sight. "You liked that, didn't you, little one? Seeing me lick your slick off my fingers. You like seeing me taste you. Like knowing that you're mine and can do whatever I want to you? Hmm?"

You nod a little too quickly, but you couldn't care anymore. "Yes..." It was suddenly like your tongue was loosened and all the words you've kept deep inside were suddenly spilling out, "And to answer you before, I've known who you are for a long time. heard the stories of the orc who raided villages. I.. I admire you. and I felt ashamed to be a fae in love with an orc. But all the good you did. All the species you had saved, it was hard not to..." You felt your face redden as you noticed what you had just said. All your secrets had been let out to dry. You let out a whine, covering your face with your hands. "I...I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that."

Bucky was taken aback for a moment, before a smirk formed on his face, grabbing your wrists with a deep chestful giggle. "You've known who I am for a long time, huh? And you've been in love with me? That's quite a confession princess. I never thought a Fae would be interested in an Orc like me. But I have to admit, it's nice to hear you say that."

You sucked in a breath, watching every detail and expression on his face, "You're a war hero. I don't care if you're an orc... In fact, I love that you are." You felt a little self-conscious speaking about such things, but Bucky had made you feel like it was okay to open up in just a few houe than your parents and other Fae like friends had ever in your life.

He looks at you with a mix of surprise and pride, enjoying the way his ego was being stroked by you, "A war hero, huh? You really know how to flatter a guy. I never thought I'd hear those words from a Fae, let alone one who's in love with me. It's nice to be appreciated for my accomplishments and not just for my strength and brutality. So thank you, my darling."

You sat up slowly, watching as he followed your every move until he was on his knees. You finally take him all in, "I'm sorry for trying to run away before, I was..." You felt tears creep down your cheeks as you hiccuped, "I was so scared.... what my village would think of me. What would the Fae King and Queen... my parents would say. T-they hate orcs."

Bucky reaches out to gently wipe the tears from your puffy face. "Hey, it's okay. I understand why you were scared, little one. It's not easy to go against your family's beliefs and expectations. But you don't have to be afraid anymore. I won't let anyone hurt you, especially not your parents. You're mine now, and I'll protect you no matter what."

"You promise?" You hiccuped.

He nods, his expression serious but soft, "I promise, my love. I swear on my honour as an Orc that I will protect you and keep you safe. You're under my protection now, and no one will lay a hand on you without going through me first."

You reach for him, your hands snaking around his neck. Bucky let you guide him into a tender kiss. He was caught off guard for only a moment but quickly recovering as he wrapped his arms around your small figure, pulling you flush against his chest.

He kisses you back fiercely, his tongue dominating your mouth as he claims you as his own. You drop a hand to the knotted leather against his shoulder, untying the straps of his armour. He helps to get the chest plate and any other metal off his deep green body. Pulling away for a moment, you could finally see all the scars and blemishes on him, knowing each wound held a story. Without a second thought, your hands found the cloth around his waist, letting the fabric fall off his pelvis, freeing his angrily hard cock. He looks down at you with a mixture of desire and amusement grabbing his cock to squeeze it firmly, "Eager, are we, Darling? You can't wait to see what I'm packing, huh?"

You stutter, bring your hands to your sides as your wings shiver in anticipation. "Y-yes..." You admit.

"You're so cute when you blush, Darling. And those wings of yours are trembling with excitement. You're practically begging for it, aren't you? My precious little Fae."

You gulp, but instead of verbally responding, you decide to untangle the bow that laid on your shoulder, letting the rags fall off your figure before throwing the cloth somewhere in the room. Bucky watched with a bitten lip as his gaze darkened with lust, getting a full view of your pretty plump breasts and your dripping cunt.

"Fuck, princess. You look so beautiful like this. Spread out for me, completely bare and ready for me to take. You're certainly a sight to behold." He moves closer to you, positioning himself between your legs, his thick thighs only barely fitting. Your eyes had fogged over with a new form of adrenaline, shaking in anticipation over the idea of having him deep inside you. He positions himself at your entrance, the tip of his cock teasing your tight hole. You both took a large breath as he slowly began to ease inside you, watching as every inch of his cock sunk deeper and deeper. The burn sent your mind into a tailspin as you dropped your head back onto the soft fur below you. Most fae men were tiny and did not pack enough length or girth, but orcs, they were huge in every possible way.

"Oh, love, you're so tight. I can feel your pretty little pussy clenching so much." He chuckles at your gasp, watching your face contort in a painful pleasure. He enjoyed the feeling of your tightness around his cock. He slowly starts to push into you more and more, taking his time to make sure you can handle his size. Your screams grew louder as you basked in the feeling of him. Bucky couldn't help but groan in response to your lushish noises, feeling them fuel his own desire to keep going. "That's it, darling. Let me hear you scream. You feel so good around me. You're taking me so well, like a good girl."

He continues to push into you, his cock stretching you wider and wider until he finally bottoms out inside you, his cock buried to the hilt. He lets out a low growl of satisfaction, "You're taking all of me, baby. You're so full of me, aren't you? You're stretched around my cock like a perfect little cock sleeve."

You nod panting through your bitten lip as you stare up at him with watery eyes, "s-so full."

He smirks at your response enjoying the way you're reacting to his size, "You like being full, baby? You like feeling me stretching you out. Fill you up? You're such a good girl, taking my cock like this. I bet you'll be even more perfect when I start to move, huh?"

"Yes, Please. More. I need more." You confess, your voice raised over several octaves as your nails scrape along the pelts.

He grins at your pleading, "Oh, my love, you're so eager. You want me to start moving, huh? You want me to pound into you and make you scream my name?"

You whimper, bucking your hips against him while your hands move up to grab your thighs, holding them up so you are spread further for him to take you deeper. He growled, beginning to move, slowly at first, but then gradually picking up speed. He starts to thrust into you with a steady rhythm, his cock sliding in and out of your soaked cunt. Your screams of his name are like a broken record, and you feel like you're already coming apart.

Bucky grumbles in response. His pace picks up as he senses that you're approaching the edge. "That's it, Darling. Scream my name. Let everyone know who's making you feel this good. I can feel you getting close. Are you going to come for me again, baby?"

Tears stained your puffy red cheeks as he picked you up, holding you tight around your waist. With his brute strength, he fucked up into you at a deeper angle causing you to let out a yelp, "Yes! I'm gonna come. I want to come around your huge cock!!"

"Good girl. You can come, baby. Come for me, let go and give in to the pleasure. I want to feel you clenching around me as you come undone." He barked as he watched with narrow eyes as your wings fluttered and flapped like crazy. He placed his large palm on your back, holding you close, letting you fall into the crook of his neck, nuzzling against him. You scream his name for a final time before coming, squirting all over his cock and the floor below. He groans as you come, feeling your walls clench around him chokingly. But he continues his harsh thrusts, riding out your orgasm to prolong your pleasure.

He let you back down onto the pelts below, taking in every detail of your shaking figure. From your fluttering wings to the way your pussy kept sucking him in. "You're so beautiful when you come, you know. I can feel you squirting all over me, soaking the fur. You're a mess, but you're my mess now, darling."

A shiver runs down your spine at his words. My mess. You couldn't help but giggle lightly at the thought. You had always been a mess, a disappointment, and unwanted. But in this moment, you were more than happy to be defined as 'a mess' as long as it was solely his.

"Your mess..." You spoke with a battered breath.

Bucky smiles back at you, his expression, possessive and proud, "That's right. You're mine. You belong to me now, and I'm never letting you go. You're my mess to play with and claim whenever I want." He leaned down to kiss your cheek delicately.

"Then claim me, Bucky...C-cum inside me." You hiccup as he shifts, making you feel every bump and vein of his cock inside your overstimulated pussy.

"So eager to please me, to be mine. It's adorable. But I think you've had enough for now. I don't want to break you just yet." He chuckled, slowly pulling out of you. But without another thought, you follow his movements. Using your wings, you push yourself into his arms, making him fall onto his back, letting you straddle him.

You can feel his cock resting against your ass, grinding gently on his pelvis, you whimper, "I want you to come to Bucky. I want to feel you come inside me."

Bucky was caught off by your confession. His parted lips quickly turned into a sly smirk as he clearly enjoyed the way you were begging for him. As if you couldn't get any more perfect, you one up yourself. "You want my cum, my love? You want me to fill you up and claim you from the inside out?"

You nod, making him groan as his cock twitched against you. His hands find your hips as he picks you up effortlessly. He rotates you until you are on all fours on the pelts, and your head is facing the fire pit. "I want to make you come one more time, and then I'll give you what you want. Got it?"

You feel like your body is already growing weaker by the second but you sigh at an 'okay' while you wiggle your hips, letting him sink back inside your abused pussy from behind. He thrusts pick back up, harshly snapping his hips into you. Bucky reaches down and starts to rub your clit with his thumb, adding extra stimulation to bring you closer to the edge. "You're doing so well, baby. Just a little bit more, and you'll come again for me. I can feel you getting close again. Just let go and let yourself feel the pleasure."

Your climax came quicker than the previous, your screams were stripped from a sore throat as you tipped over the edge clamping around his large cock while you drug your nails into the soft pelts. Bucky could feel his own orgasm approaching, but he held back, wanting to savour the feeling of you coming undone around him once more. He knew he would never get over the feeling of you clenching around him, and it was going to quickly become one of his favourite things in the world. "Your body is so responsive, so eager to please me. I'm going to fill you up now, my love. I'm going to claim you and make you mine forever."

The mixture of the flame from the fire and the heat shivering down your body made you hot to the touch, and with a few more hard snaps of Bucky’s hips, he finally reached his own climax. He lets out a low growl that is almost animalistic as he comes, his sticky load spilling deep inside your cunt. He keeps his cock buried inside you as he rides out his orgasm, making sure to fill you up entirely while he gazes at you. Laid out flat on the floor with a heaving chest. You were completely fucked out of my mind, sweaty and content. A smile plastered on your face, you whispered. "Thank you."

You had no real reason as to why you said those words, but in your heart made you felt like they needed to be said. Thank you for saving me. You thought. Thank you for being the hero the world needs. Thank you for keeping hope alive. Your mind wandered for the right words, but thank you was all that had come out in the end.

Bucky pulled out slowly, careful not to hurt you, but before he could say anything, he noticed you had fallen straight asleep. Your little snores make his heart swell. So he got to work, grabbing the sheets from the nearby bed before lying down next to you, wrapping his arms around your figure tightly so he could pull you close. His nose nuzzled in your messy and tangled hair as he whispered to you, "You belong to me now and I, you. Once we are home, we will be married. And you will finally have the freedom to do whatever your heart wishes."

He felt a twinge in his heart at the possibility of your parents trying to take you back, but he would gladly kill them before they would ever land another finger on you. He knows he's claimed you now, and he'll make sure everyone knows it, too, especially your filthy parents. You're his, and he'll do whatever it takes to keep you by his side. Protected and loved.

—

© DrDawnBreaker. Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, repost, or use my work in any way, shape, or form.

[mrs-bucky-barnes106]

we saw oppenheimer at 12:00 with a black coffee and barbie at 4:30 with a diet coke like the lord intended

[keithyp00]

‧₊˚✧𝄞 Just One Dance 𝄞‎✧˚₊‧

Pairing: Steve Kemp x f!reader

Warnings/Tags: dark romance, psychological tension & manipulation, slow-burn intimacy, implied past captivity, morally ambiguous dynamics, dark undertones masked by romantic softness, implied intimacy/sex

Word Count: 2.1K

Author Note: Good afternoon or morning of whatever for you guys! This is an experimental one-shot for me and it won't be going onto the masterlist unless I decide that it does well enough to post another few :) BUT, for those of you that are reading my stories for the first time, please go check out my Bucky Barnes fics cuz I'm really proud of them. Thank you!

Please do not copy or translate any of my works. Thank you!

The music plays softly from the old record player in the corner of the room- something jazzy, low, warm like honey. Steve hums along under his breath, eyes cast downward as he arranges the last few bites of dinner on your plate. The air smells like butter and seared meat, rosemary wafting from the skillet like a comfort you no longer trust.

You sit at the table, fingers curled around the wine glass he poured for you, watching him move with precise ease. He's barefoot. His sleeves are rolled. His lips twitch upward, like he knows you're watching.

You hate how good he looks like this. Like a man. Not a monster.

"Do you like it?" He asks, gesturing to the food he plated for you.

You nod. "It's good."

"You always say that." He chuckles and leans on the back of the chair across from you. "But you barely eat."

You glance down at the plate, then back at him. "Still working on trust."

His smile falters. Just for a second. Then it's back, polished and gentle. "Fair enough."

He walks over to the record player and adjusts the volume slightly. The room seems smaller now. Softer. You take another sip of wine just to try and keep your hands busy.

Then, unexpectedly, he turns and reaches out a hand.

"Dance with me."

Your eyes flick to his. "What?"

He shrugs. "Just one dance."

You stare at him for a moment, stunned by how calm he sounds. As if asking you to slow dance in his kitchen isn't completely deranged. As if he didn't once keep you locked in a place with no windows and bring you meals like he was a lover instead of a captor.

He doesn't retract his hand.

"Steve..."

"One song," he says. "I won't touch you again after. Unless you ask."

There's something so sincere in his face that it unsettles you more than any knife ever could.

You set your glass down and slowly stand. Your hand slips into his.

His palm is warm, large, fingers gentle as they curve around yours. He brings you close, but not too close. His other hand rests lightly on your waist, not gripping, just there. Like he's testing his own restraint.

You sway together in the kitchen's dim lighting. The record crackles. He's humming again- quiet, tuneful, careful.

The silence between you stretches, filled only with the music and the soft shift of your breath. He's looking at you like you're fragile. Or precious. You can't decide which one scares you more.

"I used to dream about this," he murmurs.

You tilt your head. "Dancing with someone in your kitchen?"

He chuckles. "No. I mean... being seen. Being known. And still being wanted."

You don't reply. Your stomach twists. But you don't stop dancing.

His thumb brushes against the back of your hand. "I know I'm not... forgiven," he starts. "But I like to think I could be something else now. For you."

The words slide under your skin like silk, leaving something sticky behind.

"Why me?" You ask quietly.

Steve's gaze lowers, his smile wistful. "Because you stayed."

You feel the weight of that. The implication. The truth: you could've left. He let you. A long time ago.

But something kept you here. Some part of you wanted to understand him. Wanted to know the shape of that monster- and what was left underneath it.

The song fades to its last few notes. Steve releases your hand just as he had promised.

But you don't step back.

He watches you, cautious hope flickering in his expression like the last light before dusk.

You rest your palm against his chest, where you can feel his heart thudding- fast, anxious.

His hand rises to cover yours, fingers trembling just barely.

"I don't know what this is," you whisper.

"Me neither," he says.

The record starts another song. A softer one. Slower.

You close your eyes and rest your forehead against his shoulder.

And this time, he doesn't ask. He just pulls you close.

~~~~~

The second song begins. Slower, older- something soulful that sounds like it was meant for this exact moment, vinyl and dim lighting.

Steve holds you like he's afraid to break something. One hand at the small of your back, the other gently cradling your wrist where it rests against his chest. His body is tense, but his touch is reverent. Worshipful. Like he can't believe you're still here.

Neither can you.

His breath stirs the hair near your ear. "You smell like jasmine."

You blink. "It's the soap."

"I like it," he murmurs. "It suits you."

His voice has that low, soothing lilt he uses when he wants to disarm you. You know it well. You also know you've let him. Again. You let him pull you into this- this almost-romance. This illusion of safety that only works because you stopped asking what was real.

His fingers slide up your back, slowly, until they rest between your shoulder blades.

"I've changed," he whispers.

You laugh softly- too softly to sound bitter. "You say that a lot."

He leans back slightly to look at you. His eyes are clear. Open. The kind of look he gives you when he's not trying to seduce you, but reach you.

"I'm not asking you to forget," he says. "Just... to see me now."

"I do," you murmur. "That's the problem."

The music pulses, low and rhythmic. You're too close now. His body is warm against yours. Familiar.

You feel the moment shift- when the air thickens and something unspoken hums beneath your skin.

He leans in just slightly, his nose brushing against your temple, down to your cheek. "You want me to stop?"

Your breath hitches. "Do you want me to say yes?"

He smiles- but it's not smug. It's soft. Like a secret. "No," he admits. "But I will."

He doesn't move. He doesn't kiss you. He just waits.

And that's what breaks you.

Because this man- who once stole everything from you- is giving you the choice now.

And you hate that part of you that wants to give in.

So you do.

You lean in and press your lips to his- tentative, searching, unsure.

He exhales shakily, like he's been holding his breath for years, His hand comes up to your jaw, thumb caressing your cheek, and he kisses you back like he's starved- but careful. Like he doesn't want to scare you. Like this moment is sacred.

When you finally pull away, you rest your forehead against his.

"I'm still mad at you," you whisper.

"I know," he breathes. "I'm mad at me too."

Silence. His chest rises and falls beneath your palm. The music fades into the background, barely audible now.

"I don't forgive you," you add.

He nods. "I'm not asking you to."

Another beat.

"But you're staying with me tonight, aren't you?"

You close your eyes. "Yes," you whisper. "I am."

~~~~~

The house is quiet when he leads you upstairs.

He doesn't rush. Doesn't touch you unless you offer it. His presence is magnetic, his gaze stealing glances every few steps like he's afraid you'll vanish. You feel it too- that edge, that thrill beneath your skin. This shouldn't be happening. And yet here you are, trailing after a man who once broke you open, now wanting him to put his hands on your skin like it would fix something.

You stop in the doorway to his bedroom.

It's tidy. Warm-toned. The bed is made with crisp white sheets, blankets pulled tight like he's trying to convince himself he's a clean man now. There's a single lamp lit by the nightstand, casting golden light across the room.

Steve turns to you. His eyes sweep over your face like he's memorizing it.

"You can sleep here," he says quietly. "I'll take the couch if you want."

You don't answer. Instead, you take a step forward. Then another.

You're in front of him now, close enough to smell the cologne on his collarbone again and the ghost of wine on his breath. He still hasn't touched you.

You slide your fingers up his chest, slowly, until your hands cup the sides of his neck where it meets his jawbone.

His throat works around a swallow. "Are you sure?"

You nod. "Don't make me ask again."

And then he kisses you- this time with heat.

His hands move to your waist, pulling you flush against him. Your fingers knot in the soft fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer, greedier than you expected to be. It's dizzying, how easily your body remembers him. How quickly you crave the warmth of him, the safety he imitates so well.

He walks you back towards the bed, kissing you like he's half-drunk on it, like you're the first taste of something he doesn't deserve. When your knees hit the mattress, he pauses.

"I need to take care of you," he murmurs, eyes searching yours. "Let me."

You nod, breathless.

He helps you onto the bed like you're fragile, like the intimacy is an offering instead of a right. His hands slide under your shirt, slow and reverent. Every inch of skin he uncovers is met with his mouth, his tongue, his breath- worship instead of lust. He traces over old marks- marks he's left from the precision of a scalpel- with something that feels like regret and kisses your collarbone like he's trying to rewrite the memory of every hurting you.

And you- god- you let him.

You arch into him, your body aching with a hunger that has nothing to do with pleasure and everything to do with being seen. Desired. Chosen in a way that's almost too gentle for the past you share.

His mouth finds yours again, deeper this time, and you whisper his name against his lips like a warning.

"Steve."

He stills, forehead resting against yours. "Say the word and I'll stop."

You search his eyes. He means it. You could break this spell. You could walk away.

But you don't.

You take his hand and guide it back to your skin. "Don't stop."

~~~~~

The room is quiet.

The kind of quiet that only happens when both bodies are spent- when nothing else needs to be said, at least for the moment. The lamp still glows dimly, casting soft light across tangled sheets and bare skin. Your breath is finally evening out, and Steve is beside you, laying on his side, head propped on one hand as he watches you like you'll disappear if he blinks.

He reaches over slowly and brushes a thumb across your cheekbone, knuckles grazing your temple. "You okay?"

His voice is gentle. Careful. You can hear the fear under it- fear of the answer, fear of how far he pushed without knowing. Because even now, after everything, he still doesn't trust himself.

You nod. "Yeah."

He studies you for a long moment. "You sure?"

You turn your head to face him. The way he's looking at you- it's too soft for someone like him. Too human. It makes your chest ache in a way you don't want to admit.

"I wouldn't have stayed if I wasn't," you say quietly.

That seems to settle something in him. His hand falls to the mattress between you. You think he might try to pull you closer, but he doesn't. He stays right there, like he's giving you space even though every part of him is leaning toward you.

You roll to your side and mirror his position. The silence stretches. This kind of silence used to terrify you- with him, especially. But now it just... feels. Heavy. Unspoken.

"You still think about it?" You ask, voice barely above a whisper.

His jaw clenches. "Every day."

You look at him, searching for the lie- but it's not there. His eyes are clear and quiet and full of that raw honesty that only seems to come out after midnight.

"I hated you," you admit, throat tightening. "For a long time."

"I know."

"I wanted to forget your name."

"I wanted to forget it too."

The confession hangs in the air between you. You're not sure who reaches first, but eventually your fingers find his beneath the sheets. He laces them together without hesitation.

"I don't know what this is," you say.

He nods. A silent agreement before speaking. "I think I'd like to find out."

You glance down at his hand in yours. "Even if it's not clean?"

His voice is rough when he answers. "Especially then."

You close your eyes. Let yourself breathe. Let yourself feel. His warmth, The steadiness of his hand. The crackling, tentative thing that might be healing- or might be burning everything down all over again.

But for now, it's quiet. And you're here. And so is he.

And that's enough.

[lex-is-up-all-night-to-get-bucky]

@animavelita over on tiktok has me all up in my unholy thoughts

[dragonfruitflamb3]

DOUBLE WHAMMY TODAY

https://archiveofourown.org/works/61255480/chapters/164294104

CHAPTER UPDATE AND SOME ART CUZ YEA

[sebbys-mama]

Look, ya'll! I've got a Bagginshield fic in the works! It's currently over 5k, which I haven't done since 2022! I'm so happy and proud of myself 😭

Here's a little snippet:

[sunday-bug]

Terry the Terrific - The Magic of Yearning

Part 1

DISCLAIMER: I haven't written in 2 years, but this is SO FUN! This is just the beginning. Stay tuned if you like pining, yearning, smut (that lipstick HAS to go somewhere), etc. Also, I named the FMC because it's how I prefer to write fanfics, but I don't mention her appearance much. Self-insert as you wish, lovelies.

Pairing: Terry x original FMC

Word Count: 2.4k

Terry stormed out the front door of his mom’s Victorian home, black cape billowing in the breeze behind him. He rushed to the curb and sat down, trying to calm his breathing. His childhood best friend, Howard, was sleeping with his mom. Not just sleeping, but doing freaky shit. Normally he wasn’t one to kink-shame, but it was his mom, for Christ’s sake. No one wants to picture their mom with a ball gag in her mouth. A few teardrops ran down Terry’s face, his frustration manifesting physically. He gently wiped at his cheeks, careful not to smudge his makeup. A screen door slammed nearby, and the sounds of leaves crunched underfoot. In his peripheral vision, he saw a pair of red ballet flats walking to the mailbox next door.

“Terry?” he heard a soft-spoken voice ask. He looked up at the owner of the red ballet flats, taking a few seconds to recognize her face.

“Maggie? Hi,” he smiled bashfully, hoping she couldn’t tell that he’d been crying.

“Yeah, hey. Everything ok?” She asked, collecting the mail from the mailbox.

“Oh, uh, yeah…” he shrugged his shoulders, and stood up from the curb, “What are you doing home?”

“My folks went to check out a retirement cult in Florida, so I’m house sitting and cleaning for the season while they’re gone,” she responded. “I actually didn’t know if your mom still lived here or not,” she said, pointing to his mom’s place. “I haven’t been back in years. I was waiting to get a glimpse of who walked out, but you sitting here kinda answered that question.”

“Yeah, she’s still here,” Terry replied. 

“Well, tell her I say hello. I don’t know if she’ll remember me,” Maggie said.

“Oh, she’ll remember,” he said, eyes raking over her face. 

Maggie smiled, examining Terry’s face. He looked older, more mature. The years that had passed showed up in flashes across his face: a few crow’s feet here, a couple forehead wrinkles there. He’d gotten better at his makeup, especially his eyebrows. She cleared her throat before taking a step back toward her parent’s house, “I should head back inside. I’m working through some of their clutter and don’t want to break my momentum.” 

“Ah, sure,” he said, gesturing back to his mom’s house. “I should head back in, too.”

They both started walking up the paths to their respective childhood homes. As Maggie’s hand wrapped around the doorknob, she stopped, and looked over at the neighboring porch. Terry’s eyes met hers, and she felt her chest jilt. She rushed inside and shut the door quickly behind her, resting her body on the heavy oak frame and sighing. She heard a tinkling noise approaching her, the bell from her cat’s collar the culprit. “Hey, Chaplin, c’mere, boy,” she said, scooping him up into her arms. She carried him to the well-worn couch and plopped down, turning on the TV. She needed to distract herself. The Prestige was playing on cable. She groaned audibly. She turned the channel. The Rocky Horror Picture Show was playing on this one. Dr. Frank-n-Furter was gyrating in his fishnets. Maggie watched intently, analyzing Tim Curry’s makeup. Dr. Frank-n-Furter was one of her first crushes as a child, a fact she has never shared with anyone. Standing up and swaying around the coffee table, Chaplin still in her arms, she started singing along with the movie, “I see you shiver with antici-”

Before she could get the last line out, the doorbell rang, startling her. Chaplin leapt out of her arms and headed for the door. She quickly turned down the volume on the TV and made for the door as well, picking up Chaplin so he didn’t try to escape. She opened the door to find Terry again.

“Hello again,” she said, opening the screen door to him.

“Long time no see,” he replied with a slight smile. “I told my mom you’re back, and she wanted me to ask you to have dinner with us tonight if you don’t have plans. You know Leslie,” he said sheepishly. 

Chaplin meowed and batted playfully at Terry. “Hello,” he said, reaching to pat his head. “What’s his name?” 

Maggie swallowed subtly, “Chaplin.” 

Terry smiled again, “So? Dinner?”

“Yes. Dinner. Leslie, your mom. Um… I just have a bit of work I have to do, and then I think I can make it over.” 

“Housework or work-work?” Terry asked.

Maggie chuckled, “Both, I guess. There’s a guest room I’m nearly done cleaning, but I also have some work-work that I need to finish up. There’s this heavy wooden chest in the guest room I’m in a personal fight with.”

“Want me to take a look?” Terry offered.

“Oh, um, sure,” Maggie replied, “but fair warning: it’s a bit of a mess in here. My parents have accumulated a lot of junk over the years.” She moved to the side to let him walk in. 

Terry glanced around, taking in the space he somewhat remembered as a child. They weren’t best friends, but he and Maggie spent some time together in middle school and early junior high. They were both only children that were into magic tricks and other slightly nerdy hobbies, so they gravitated toward each other like geeky little prepubescent magnets. He spied the muted TV playing Rocky Horror in the living room and smiled to himself. She’s still a weirdo.

“It’s just this way,” she said, traipsing up the old wooden staircase, much like the one in his mom’s house. Family photos lined the walls, starting with baby Maggie at the foot of the stairs. Terry watched her grow up as they ascended to the second floor. The last photo was one of Maggie in a cap and gown, presumably from a college graduation. Terry and Maggie lost touch after junior high, so he filled in the blanks with the photos. 

“Did you study theater like you wanted to when we were kids?” Terry asked, pointing to the graduation photo.

Maggie made a retching noise, “No, I wish. My folks convinced me to go for something more practical, so I got a business degree. Now I work a soul-sucking data analysis job, but I still do improv on the weekends and volunteer at the children’s theater when I can.” 

“You were great at theater,” Terry said, reminiscing on productions long past. 

Maggie walked toward the room on the left, “So, you are obviously doing the magician thing.” She waved a hand at Terry’s painted face. “How’s that going?” 

He shrugged, “Although I love it, it doesn’t pay the bills, so I do freelance work as well. Writing, mostly,” he waved the chit chat away with a hand, “Anyway, where’s this ominous wooden chest?”

Maggie hurried over to the closet, and pointed to the floor, “He’s a thick boy.”

Terry walked over, and picked up the chest with ease, hefting it onto the spare bed. 

“Well, okay… thanks,” Maggie said, slightly exasperated that he made it look so easy.

“What’s in there? Rocks?” Terry asked, pretending to wipe sweat from his painted brow.

“I’m not sure,” Maggie mused. “Let’s find out.” She popped open the trunk more easily than she expected to. “Oh, it looks like more photos of me when I was little. My mom loves taking pictures. She rifled through a handful before gasping.

“TERRY! Oh, my goodness, look how little we were!” She flipped a photo toward Terry, and he saw their 9 year-old faces staring back at him. Maggie is missing two front teeth, and he has a slight tan from spending too much time outside in the sun. Their arms are around each other, and they are both wearing cheap, black polyester magician’s capes and holding wands. Terry is tipping a black tophat toward the camera.

“That was our first day of magic camp. Do you remember?” He asked, looking up at Maggie.

“Of course I do,” she replied. “How could I forget magic camp? I kissed you behind the stage curtain on the last day.” She kept his gaze, and let out a lilting giggle. “The other boys made fun of you because you couldn’t stop blushing when we walked back to our group.” 

Terry ran his hands through his hair nervously, “I was nine… and you were pretty,” he cleared his throat, “ARE pretty.”

Maggie smiled, “Well, thank you. You’re still quite dashing yourself. And you’ve gotten way better at drawing on your eyebrows.” She chuckled.

He raised said eyebrows and let out a laugh. “Lots of YouTube tutorials,” he admitted. 

“So, what time is dinner?” Maggie asked.

“Mom and Howard usually eat around 6:30, so I guess then,” he said with disdain.

“Howard? Like Howie, Howard?” Maggie questioned, one eyebrow raised curiously.

“It’s a long, horrifying story,” Terry said, a small shiver running down his spine.

“Well, it’s only-”, Maggie looked down at her vintage Mickey Mouse watch, “3:00, so I think you have time to tell me.” 

“Oh, uh, I thought you had work to do?” He asked.

Maggie shrugged, “Yeah, but it can wait. Terry the Terrific is here, and I heard he charges by the hour, so I want to get my money’s worth.” She beamed at him, lightly punching his arm.

“You make me sound like a stripper,” he replied, his forehead wrinkling ever so slightly.

Maggie laughed, and linked her arm through his, dragging him back down the stairs. 

“You want a drink, Terry?” Maggie asked, heading toward the kitchen.

“Yes, that would be great, actually,” he admitted, pulling a chair out and taking a seat at the small eat-in dining table. "It's been a weird couple of days. Whatever you’re having is fine.”

Maggie grabbed the gin from the cabinet above the refrigerator, along with a bottle of tonic water. “I’m outta limes, hope you don’t mind.”

“Not a lime guy anyway,” Terry replied.

Maggie finished up making their drinks and sat at the chair opposite Terry. “So, what’s this horrific story you have to tell me?”

Terry wrapped his fingers around his drink and downed it in one go, “Howard is fucking my mom.”

Maggie choked on the sip she had just taken, “Oh fuck, I don’t know what I was expecting, but it wasn’t that.”

“Yep, there’s even BDSM shit in ‘their’ bedroom. I was processing that information earlier on the curb. My best friend has carnal knowledge of my mother. I mean, I heard them through the wall the other night,” Terry shook his head and ran a hand through his hair, messing up the product a bit.

“I think you need another,” Maggie said, gesturing to his empty glass.

“Sure, thanks,” he replied.

“I’m not sure I’ll be able to keep a straight face at dinner later,” Maggie said over her shoulder, stirring his drink. “I’ll do my best for you though.”

“Thanks,” Terry replied, grabbing the drink from her. Their fingers brushed, and he felt goosebumps go up his arm. 

Suddenly, a cell phone started ringing in the living room. Maggie jumped up, “Oh, I’m sorry. That’s probably my parents. They check in once a day to see how it’s going. I’ll be right back.”

Terry nodded and sipped his drink, staring at the chipped Formica tabletop. He could hear Maggie in the other room talking about humidity and dolphins. He glanced at the refrigerator, and spotted several more pictures of her stuck to the surface with homemade magnets. One from junior high with her girl friends, one with her parents on a trip to Virginia Beach, and one of her in her cheerleading uniform from high school. Terry stopped short at that last picture and his chest sank. How did they go from being little magical weirdos together to completely drifting apart as the years went on? He wondered this more than he cared to admit. There was just something so enigmatic about her. She was hard to forget. Terry took the photo off of the refrigerator and examined it more closely. 

“Sorry about that! They went on a dolphin cruise today! Oh-” Maggie stopped short, seeing the picture in Terry’s hand. “Jeez, I can’t believe I tried out for cheerleading. If I could have high school to do over again, I’d do so many things differently! I definitely wouldn’t have been a cheerleader, or taken P.E. first period, or, uh, cut my bangs myself sophomore year! Would you change anything if you could go back?” 

Maybe it was the slight buzz from the drinks or the courage that comes with age, but Terry looked right at her and said, “I would have asked you out.”

Without skipping a beat, Maggie’s eyes widened slightly and she replied, “I would have said yes.”

“Liar. Maggie, we lived on two different planets in high school.”

“I’m not lying, Terry,” she replied. “I’ll prove it to you. Skip dinner tonight. I’ll make it up to Leslie another night.”

“Prove what to me?” Terry asked, eyeing her suspiciously.

“That I would have said yes to you back then," she swallows, "that I’d say yes to you now,” she said the last part quietly, eyes shifting to Terry’s to gauge his response. 

Terry felt his breath quicken, but maintained his composure. “Do you want to go out with me tonight, Maggie?”

“Yes, Terry, I’d love to,” she answered with a shy smile.

“Well, you know how I love costumes. There’s a costume karaoke thing at Birdie’s tonight. Is that up your alley? It could be fun. Wait, do you have a costume? I know Halloween isn’t for a few weeks… and we’re both adults. So maybe you don’t have one, and that’s fine-”

Maggie cut him off, “I have a costume.”

Terry’s eyebrows shot up and an excited grin spread across his dark red lips, “Perfect!” 

“What’s your costume?” she asked.

“Oh, I’m just wearing this,” he gestured to his magician’s outfit.

“Oh, good,” she replied, “we’ll kind of match.” 

“Match? What’s your costume?” he asked.

She shook her head, “Nope, uh-uh, you can’t see until tonight.”

“Let’s do this right. I’ll pick you up at 7:00.” He said, heading toward the front door.

“You know where I live,” she replied, escorting him back to the front porch, “I’ll see you later.”

Maggie shut the door behind her and let out a ginormous, shaky sigh. Holy fuck.

“Holy fuck,” Terry mouthed from her front porch, punching the air like he just won an Oscar.

TO BE CONTINUED…

Click here for Part 2.

[bucky-barnes-lover]

Kinktober day 21: Public fingering, Slight daddy kink

Bucky Barnes x gf!reader:

Next Time

W.C: 275

Warnings:⚠️ Slight daddy kink, Use of pet names (doll), Semi public fingering

He had me next to him. Sitting on the sofa comfortably. Until he reached under my dress. We were in the compound living room. Hanging out with our friends and playing spin the bottle.

Clearly Bucky was jealous I had to kiss Steve, his best friend. And wanted to show me that.

I felt him move my underwear to the side and dive a finger into my wet pussy.

"Yo, Barnes, it's your turn" exclaimed Tony, flipping the bottle towards him. Using his left hand, he spun it.

Keeping my lower area away from the view of the others, he entered a second finger.

"Ooh. Bucky and Nat" Yelled Steve eyeing the bottle.

"Eh, I think I'll give it a pass, I don't think Y/N would appreciate it" Bucky laughed off with his friends.

While they weren't paying attention, he whispered in my ear.

"Next time you refuse it, when you have to kiss him. Particularly Steve." It was the kind of aggression that turned me on.

"Yes daddy" I moaned in his ear quietly, so nobody could hear.

I saw Bucky stiffen and the movement of his fingers stopped, halfway to my orgasm. Clearly he sensed this and removed his fingers from me completely.

The game of Spin The Bottle continued.

"What did you just call me?" He asked, shocked at my use of a pet name.

"Daddy" I responded innocently.

"That's it, my room. Now!" He announced, not so quietly. Eyes were on us now, and a nervous laugh escaped my lips. I exited the room quickly, Bucky following closely behind.

It ended up being quite an amusing night in the end.

[thebeesarebusy]

THIS IS NOT A DRILL ‼️‼️‼️

Chapter 7 of Under Pressure is officially finished. My unofficial hiatus is over mayhaps.

I will post it tomorrow if I have time!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/61153093/chapters/156261499

[seb-in-the-shadows]

Ik i’m gna be a day late but i’m gna try posting Seb’s valentines drabble today, but also woke up feeling so rough so that might be a lukewarm promise lmao we’ll see -

Good news is its got a draft so i might just post it anyways as a wip or smth, cuz i want some sebby chicken valentines fluff LOL

[drdawnbreaker]

𝐅𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫, 𝐒𝐨𝐧 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐨𝐥𝐲 𝐅𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐒𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐭 ☆ 𝐁.𝐁

Synopsis: There was a demon on the loose, wreaking havoc in the small village that Father Barnes was a priest in. And he was going to stop at nothing to find who and where the creature was. Good thing he has a little helper to aid in his efforts.

Word count:  4.03k

Genre: 18+ Supernatural. Angst. Gore. Suggestive.

Pairing: Priest!Bucky x Female!Reader

Warnings: Swearing. Blood. Gore. Mentions of assult. Weapons. Demons and angels. Religion. Death. Making out. Sinning. Dirty thoughts. Thick flirtatious tension. Listen, I was deep in my feelings when I wrote this argh.

Note: I'm a sucker for destructive angsty priest with a morally grey streak, okay... sue me. I may or may not make a part two. Who knows.

Masterlist | Navigation

Bucky paced around his office, feeling himself grow more and more frustrated as the minutes progressed. He had been in this tiny, god-forsaken town for the past three months, searching far and wide, under every rock and pebble, and still, he was not any closer to finding this wandering demon. His agency had put him undercover as the new priest in the local church since sadly the old one had passed away from...sudden circumstances, which Bucky later found to be the said demon’s doing. He had hopes to find the creature and kill it before it hurt anyone else, but sadly, the challenge seemed bigger than he anticipated.

Placing his hands on the large spruce table, he takes in all his notes for the millionth time. The demon had a distinctive pattern, killing only men, twenty-five and over, locally born, ranging from all classes and backgrounds. But what did they all have in common? Why did the creature choose these men in particular? What was the trigger? Bucky felt like he was about to rip his hair out if he couldn’t figure it out by the end of the fourth month. He slammed his hand down onto the table in a fit of rage. Feeling the heat shift into his spine at the thought, the demon could be anyone. That he had passed by it without knowing. It could stand right in front of him, and he had already probably missed it.

“Father…” Your sweet velvet tone snapped him from his thoughts. You were tightly holding onto your bible with one hand against your chest, prayer beads lacing through your fingers while your other hand held the large door open. Your expression was filled with innocence and worry. “I heard noises. I… Are you okay?”

His heart skips at you, the sweet church girl, his face tainting a dusty pink ever so slightly. “Uh.. Yes. I'm just…working.” He rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding eye contact. He wouldn't admit it, but through these past months, he had fallen quite infatuated with you. Your smile began an addiction he sought out every day.

Every early morning, you came into the church alone to pray before skipping to his office to ask if he needed any help. You were so kind and caring in welcoming him into the community. Making sure he had everything he could ever need shortly after he arrived. You were the only good thing to seemingly come out of this dull, mopey town.

Looking at you cautiously step into the room, your eyes wandering to the decoration on the shelf that you had no doubt memorised already, an idea came flooding into his head. You were locally born, as far as he was aware. And you know of everyone, so maybe he needed to gather some intel from an inside source and who then, you, the sweet sunshine that cascaded over the grey hills of this village. “Actually… I would like to ask you a question.”

You stopped in your tracks to glance over at the man, showing no sign of any emotion. You were still, pondering even. Your eyes wide and curious but your lips held in a thin firm line. “Ask away, father.”

He almost lost the question from his shuttered tongue as he watched your mouth creep up into a loving smile. But alas, he cleared his throat, quickly looking down to graze over his notes. “I must confess something…”

Your body tingled in inquisitiveness, taking a step closer. “Yes…” you bit your lip slightly, fiddling with the beads in your tight grasp.

“I am not just a priest. I'm.. a hunter of sorts.” He lifted up a piece of paper for you to take in your free hand, letting you look it over. The paper was old, aged marking the edges and face. It was information about demonology. Words that seemed to pop out the most on the page were ‘dangerous’, ‘demon’, ‘sinful’. This thing... This demonic creature was in your home, killing the men of your village. One by one.

“...So it’s true. There is devil work lurking in the town.” You gulped your hands, shaking slightly, handing the piece of parchment back to Bucky. “Is anyone else aware of this?”

“No. You are the first and only person I’ll tell. This town doesn’t need to start going on witch hunts to try and find the creatures themselves.” Bucky pinched his nose, just imagining it gave him a headache. He let out a sigh, picking up a few more sheets to place in front of you, "This is all I know. I was sent here to capture and eradicate the beast that has been luring men into the outwest woods. But for the life of me, I can't find the connection to all of the victims other than them being male."

You looked over all the names, reading each autopsy report carefully. Your mind to a thought, no, it couldn't be.. could it? Looking up at Bucky, you gulped. "Umm, F-father."

"Please just call me Bucky." He grunted, tugging on his white band around his neck, feeling himself grow hot being frustrated and also being near you.

"I think I know the connection..." You picked up another piece of paper scanning while Bucky stared at you intensely, waiting for you to proceed. "The first five victims. They had been accused of misconduct prior to their deaths."

You pointed to one of the names showing Bucky, "For example, John Hart, he was reported for beating his wife." You pointed to another name further down the list, "Edward Smith's wife called assault on her husband, saying he raped his daughter, but there wasn't any such evidence."

You turned the paper back to yourself, raking your hand through your hair, "All of these men have either beaten, assaulted, and raped women or have been at least accused of it."

Bucky slumped down on his seat in defeat. A conflict shadowing in his view. All these men were pigs. That was the connection. "Great, so I have a demon playing god and smiting men for misdeeds...perfect." he placed his palm on his face, groaning in annoyance.

"What are you going to do now, fath—I mean Bucky?" You took a seat on one of the chairs opposite the deck, resting your bible down on your lap as you sat up pin straight.

Bucky clicked his tongue, glancing at you for a moment. He wasn't going to lie to himself. The way you said his name was music to his ears. A tone he would never get tired of. But he shook his thoughts to look at the papers littering his desk. "We're gonna catch a demon.”

-

Following the next few days, every evening you and Bucky would meet up to discuss the case while also slowly gathering materials for the trap. You had told Bucky any more information you’ve heard or if you heard of any more allegations about any of the town's men. Luckily no one had spread any new rumours about anyone which was good, leaving you both to focus on the task at hand. Capturing and then eradicating the demon. One particularly cold evening, you and Bucky had spent a little bit too long searching through town books, not taking any notice of the sun lying to rest. It was only when you started to feel the chill on your exposed arms that you gazed out the window, seeing nothing but pitch night.

“When did it become so late?” Your voice barely above a whisper. Bucky, who was only a few feet beside you, looked up from the book in his lap, suddenly feeling the coldness creep down his spine.

"We should call it a night." Bucky slammed the book a little too harshly, making you jump. He caught your reaction but decided it was best to bite his tongue. Instead, he stood up, holding his hand out for you to take, "I'll walk you out."

You took his hand gently, your soft skin making him gulp. The touch of you was electrifying, like a thousand little fireworks going off at once in his chest. His fingers wrapped tightly around yours, tugging you up off the library floor, but his tug was a little bit forceful, causing you to be pulled flushed against his chest. Your free hand coming up to brace yourself on his chest. "F-father."

"I told you to call me Bucky. Please. I'm just Bucky." He whispered his breath, pooling against your cheek. He watched the blush taint your cute features, your eyes widening as he inched closer. You smelt of firewood, vanilla, and a beautiful mixture of floral scents. You were intoxicating.

"Bucky... We are still in the church." You murmured, eyes slowly fluttering as you let him creep closer until his lips were a brush away. Your hand that landed on his chest lowered, feeling his strong muscles underneath his robes.

"I know..." He grunted through his nose. He snaked his hand from your wrist to your upper arm before taking place on the back of your neck while his other found place on your hip. "We aren't doing anything sinful."

"Hmm, but your thoughts would say otherwise." You smiled.

"You have no idea what I'm thinking about." He chuckled, his lips brushing against yours.

"I could take a guess.” You closed your eyes, sealing your lips on his, feeling an overwhelment of sparks crackling down your spine. Bucky grunted through his nose as the kiss became rougher. His fingers tangled into strands of hair on the nape of your neck while he swallowed every whimper and moan from you. It was like you were a deliciously wicked sweet treat.

Forbidden fruit he was not allowed to taste.

He couldn’t explain it but it was like you were the only thing that mattered the minute he met you. Like you were the puzzle piece he had been missing “B-Buck” You tried to pull away from him but his grip was firm on you, “We are going to…” You felt his tongue against your mouth, “Get..c-caught.” You couldn’t help but smile beneath the desperate kiss.

He finally pulled away, groaning in disappointment. “I know…” He sighed letting his grip loosen. Your hands snaked up his body gently before you pulled away entirely.

“Walk me out?” You suggested what he had asked moments prior. Bucky couldn’t help but feel himself grow in his slacks as he gazed upon your swollen lips and dishevelled hair. You were stunning in every possible way.

He walked with you to the front of the church, his hand grazing your own every time your arms swung a little too close to one another. Bucky felt like a schoolboy all over again, walking next to the girl he had a crush on.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” Bucky smiled bittersweetly, turning to face you completely. You faced him also, shyly looking up at him with your cheeks tainted red.

"Tomorrow, Bucky ." You gave him a soft smile. Your fingers tangle with themselves as you patiently wait for him to say goodbye first.

"Well, sleep well. Goodnight..." The way your name fell from his lips made your heart thump as you nodded, leaning up to kiss his cheek gently. He swore he felt a tingle dance from where you place your lips on him. Walking off into the village towards your home, Bucky never took his eyes off you until you were out of sight.

"Lord..." He sighed, feeling himself breathing properly for the first time all day. He felt a twinge in his body at the loss of your scent, but alas, he had work to do if he wanted to catch this creature. But a part of him began to second guess himself. Yes, demons are bad, killing anything they want. But this demon. It had a reason. And a stupidly good one for that matter.

It annoyed him at the confliction. All demons are bad. Right? They lust for blood and chaos. Nothing more, nothing less. As he stepped back into the large church entrance, his mind spun from all the thoughts. Something was wrong with this whole thing. Something he had missed, maybe? Pinching his nose, he felt lightheaded. His fingers danced around his nostrils, suddenly gasping. "Blood?"

Looking up to the aisle in the middle of the church, he saw the moon start to pool into the room through the round window by the altar. And then, as he took another step, his mind snapped. His eyes clouded over with black, and he fell towards the floor.

He was out like a light.

When Bucky awoke, he could feel the stiffness in his neck. He must have been out a while. Groaning, he held his head as he slowly sat up. But what caught him off guard was he wasn't sitting where he fell. He had moved? Looking around his fuzzy eyes, he noticed he was right on the altar, leaning against the lectern.

Looking around, he tries to get his bearings. Noticing the moon has reached its peak, shining through the top window, indicating it was almost midnight. He had been passed out for almost two or three hours give or take. But what caught his attention was the overwhelming smell of iron. He touched the top of his lip, feeling the blood from his nose had dried. But this blood smelt fresh like it was right behind him...

In horror, he turned his head to see the gruesome sight that anchored his mind in dread—a lifeless man strung up on the cross behind him, the body pallid and still. A choked gasp escaped him, slamming his hand over his mouth as the image in front of him flooded his conscience. He went to move, but that was when he noticed his legs were bound. He struggled against him, confusion spiralling into terror. What was going on?

Just then, the church doors creaked open, and a familiar figure stepped inside. It was you, but the tender girl he had come to love now had an aura that chilled him to the bone. Her once bright eyes were shadowed, and your skin was tainted in a light shade of pink. "Bucky!!"

You ran over to him. This is when he could finally see you properly in the moonlight. Little horns poked from the top of your head. "Bucky. I thought... You're okay." You sighed, your voice sounding different. It was smoother, seductive almost, lacing with an otherworldly quality.

"What is this? What’s happened?” he stammered, heart pounding painfully in his chest. You were a demon. A lust demon to be exact. He'd never met a succubus in real life before, but he knew what they looked like through details in his demonology.

"I don't know. I got a letter saying you were hurt and needed my help." Your voice cracked as you reached for his bonds, but when your skin touched them, it stung, burning your skin. They were cursed? "W-who did this?"

"I could ask you that." Bucky’s bitterness caught you off guard.

"W-what do..." You looked down and saw your hands were shaded in pink, and in a flash, you ran for the silverware on the table seeing your distorted reflection. "Y-you can see me..."

"Yes.." Bucky replied coldly and conflicted. How could you, of all people be a creature of the damned.

"Bucky, listen, please. I'm not the demon you've been trying to catch, I swear." You kneeled back down to him, but he shuffled away, making your heart flinch. "I've watched you since the moment you came into this town. Your love, your promises, and your weakness. You want to save things. Not kill them. You are caring. That is how I fell in love with you.”

"Love? Demons can not do such things." Bucky’s voice felt like venom on your skin, making tears pool in your eyes.

"They...I can. I did. You changed that for me."

“No, I—I thought you were human,” he gasped, memories of laughter and warmth filling his mind, only to be replaced by dread. He missed so many signs. From the smell of you to the way you had with words. You were using him.

"Bucky, I wasn't, I swear to you. I might be a monster, but I've never hurt anyone." You interrupted his thoughts, shuffling closer, your presence both magnetic and terrifying to Bucky. "Please, Bucky, you have to believe me."

Bucky wrestled with his emotions as the reality of your true nature engulfed him. Were the demon he had been searching for, cleverly disguised and lurking in the heart of the town, feeding on the very compassion and affection he thought in no way could lead to sin? Or were you telling the truth? Were you just an innocent creature caught in the crossfire?

Looking at you, he can see the swirls of pink and crimson mixing with your human eye colour. The sweetness he fell for was still there. "I believe you."

You jumped into his arms, tears spilling down your hit cheeks as you nuzzled into the crook of his neck.

As the church pulsed with an otherworldly energy, Bucky realised he had known he made a daring choice—not to fight or falter but to embrace the truth of who he was, who you were. Life wasn't all black and white. There were beautiful shades of grey that he never took the moment to gaze upon before. He took a deep breath, taking in your sweet familiar scent before pulling you up by your chin to stare into the eyes of the creature he had fallen in love with.

"I was wrong about you. I'm sorry." He declared, a newfound resolve gripping his heart as he smiled at you. But before you could say anything, a new voice. A deeper one echoed in the cold eerie church.

“No, Father. You are wrong. But not for what you think.” The man's voice was a cruel tone, dark and chilling. Both of you snapped your gaze to him, seeing he was not alone. Two other men were trailing close behind him. "And here I thought you wouldn't succumb to her charms..." His face was finally revealed in the light. "My best hunter."

"Rumlow?" Bucky’s voice was laced with confusion. His mentor? "What are you doing here?"

"Oh, Bucky. For an expert hunter, you never really got the wit down, did you?" The man chuckled, making the other two follow suit like some perfect chimed robots. Rumlow's gaze glances at the hanging corpse, still hammered into the cross. He couldn't help but click his tongue.

"You know it almost pained me to kill these men. But desperate times called for desperate measures." The older man cracked his knuckles as he paced slightly. You shuffled closer to Bucky, cuddling desperately next to him. For the first time in all your life, you felt fear.

With all Bucky’s strength, he pushed against the ropes, his spirit igniting in defiance. In this moment of battle between light and dark, he defied the very nature of the demon that he loves and found the depths of the confrontation. He felt a flicker of the love he had for you, now intertwined with anger and betrayal from his mentor, another he had loved or hated in a way. Whatever you were, he no longer cared. No, all he wanted was you safe. Little did you know, you could hear Bucky’s thoughts loud and clear, pooling into your brain like a tidal.

"We've been looking for her for years. Laying traps, but no matter what we did, she wouldn't take the bait. That was until we found out she wasn't like other demons..."

Without dropping your eyes from the man, you placed your hand just over the bounds on Bucky. You began to focus on the ropes, whispering an incantation in your head over and over.

"She's also a witch." Rumlow snarked, snapping his fingers. One of the men quickly made his way over to you while the other seemingly grabbed out a book from the satchel that hung over his shoulder.

"B-Bucky. JAMES!!" The man grabbed you by the horns, yanking you backwards before dragging you towards Rumlow. You cried out, trashing against his hold. Bucky went to stand, but the bounds were still tight, and no matter how many times he tried to grab the rope, it burnt him.

"Don't you fucking touch her!" Bucky barked.

"Awe, Bucky. You really are a stupid little boy." Rumlow grabbed the book from his henchman, flicking through the pages with a cynical smile. "Out of everything you could have done. Falling for a beast was not what I thought you'd do."

"She's not a beast!!" Bucky could feel a tear break in his eyes as he watched you weep in pain as the grip on your sensitive horns tightened. Your claws scratch at the man's hands, but he doesn't move as if he wasn't affected by his flesh being ripped by your sharp nails.

"Well, this was all fun and all. But I think we should call it a night. I gotta thank you, though, Barnes. Without you, we would have never caught her." Rumlow began reading a page from the book aloud. The enchantment caught your attention, making you do as much as you possibly could to look over at Bucky.

Covered in blood, tears staining his sharp features. Your heart broke as you hiccuped, "I'm sorry, Bucky. I...I love you." It might have been too early to say it, but you didn't know when you'd ever be able to say it again.

"No no no no. Please. I love you too." He grabbed his bounds, his hand sizzling against the cursed rope, "Brock, don't do this. She's not a monster... you can't."

Rumlow didn't stop his incantation as the floor began to shake, and the night started to stir. That's when the man behind Rumlow stepped forward with a thick leather band in his hand. The man that held you tilted your head to the side, giving access for the man to click the collar in place. That was when Bucky knew what Rumlow was doing to you. He was binding you.

"I'll find you..." Your name rang in the air as Bucky cried, "I'll find you and break you free."

It was your turn to cry, hearing his thoughts. There was no doubt in his mind, nothing but determination and honesty in his words. "I'll wait for you."

The sound of the book being slammed closed reverberated against the walls. Yours and Bucky’s eyes snapped back to Rumlow seeing him pull out a gun, "You shouldn’t have said that, Barnes." His voice was cold, with his eyes empty.

Silence fell as the fire from a gunshot rang in your ears. Blood spilled out of Bucky’s mouth seconds later as he choked it all over the altar. You screamed, a noise so loud it would shatter the hearts in a mile radius. The floor beneath you shook, cracking before opening. The last thing you could see before the floor swallowed you whole was your lover, dying on the doorstep of the religion he so desperately trusted.

And Bucky..... he laid on his back, the wound in his chest spluttering the crimson liquid into the carpet staining and ruining the fabric. He could see the moon above him. Feeling the light raze on his skin. His eyes closed for a moment, taking in the tingling feeling. There was no more pain. Sadness washed away with every drop of blood that fell onto the stairs, and then he whispered out a stutter before taking his last breath.

"Forgive me, lord... I have sinned.”

—

© DrDawnBreaker. Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, repost, or use my work in any way, shape, or form.

[shamrockqueen]

Pink demon

Pairing : (Pretty in pink series) Hot Neighbor Bucky x Reader

Warnings : R18, oral, smut, slutty costumes, P*rn with a little bit of Plot, licking up cum

Word count : 2853

AO3 link

Kinktober List

Pretty in pink Masterlist

You slid one corner of the heavy cape over your shoulder, taking one last moment to admire the pretty pink latex of your strappy costume. You drop the thick fabric back over top of it so that your little trick can be properly concealed before heading towards the front door.

You’ve made a gamble like this before, but with the loss of home field advantage, the stakes seemed a little higher this time around. But, after the payoff you received last time, you just couldn't resist using the anty.

You readjusted your little plastic devil's horns so that they sat perfectly straight on top of your head, all before grabbing your trick-or-treating bucket and heading for the door.

It was far too late for any trick-or-treaters to still be wandering around, leaving a dark and empty street ahead of you as you turned off your own lights and left your house. You looked out at the nice neighborhood, searching out the still-lit home of your quiet neighbor. His porch lights were off, but the main light in the living room was still bright as ever.

Your heels, also concealed by the silky cloak, clacked along the pavement as you made the journey down the street. The twinkling of the little orange pumpkin lights strung over his porch came into view as you approached his brick steps.

You were a little surprised that he even decorated, as it didn’t seem like him to shop for plastic Jack o'lanterns. Yet as you looked at the goofy decorations, it made him seem all the more sweet to have put in the effort.

After getting up the two steps, you finally made it to the door, pressing the button for the doorbell and fussing with your horns as you waited for the *Ding-Dong* to be answered.

You heard his footsteps before the door came open. He had a large bowl of candy tucked under one arm and a look of surprise lighting up his face.

“Uh, hi. Long time, no see.” He spoke with amusement as he eyed the bright pink devil horns atop your head in contrast to the dark cloth draped over your little body. “What brings you by at this hour?”

“Trick or treat.” You said it with a wide smile as you pulled your hands from under your coat to not only reveal your plastic pumpkin basket but your pink straps and bare skin as well.

The bucket of candy nearly slipped out from under his arm as his eyes widened at the sight of you. In the next second, after tossing the bowl to a side table, he reaches out for your arm to quickly drag you into the house, nearly slamming the door closed behind you.

“What are you doing walking around in something like that?” His tone was more amusing than scolding as he continued to take in what little the cape had revealed so far.

“What, this?” You slipped your fingers under the edge of the cape and slid it over your shoulder so that every strap and zipper were available to be taken in by his hungry eyes.

It was almost too easy. “It’s my costume.”

He was almost choking on any of the words he was trying to get out. His hands move instead, hitting the lock in the door and switching off the main light to signal that the house is done passing out candy.

When he steps closer to you, it’s slower, almost like a predator backing its small prey into a darkened corner. His fingers reach up to untie the little bow of ribbon that held the cape together, letting it fall down your body to pool at your feet.

“You walked all the way here, dressed like this?” His voice sounded so heavy and low that you nearly felt the purr of it in your own chest as it bumped against yours. His heavy steps echoed through the room as he backed you towards the nearest wall.

You don’t answer back, not being able to handle his reaction to taking such a left turn. Your shoes nearly tangle in the cape as you're made to move.

“What if someone saw you? Do you have any idea what someone might do to you if they saw this?” He ends his one-sided question with a rough tug at the little zipper that kept the bottom piece of your costume together.

You couldn’t help the little gasp that puffed past your lips before you tried to regain your composure. You didn’t want to lose the upper hand just yet.

You slowly reached out to drag your nails from the collar of his shirt and down the plains of his chest until they met the hem of his jeans.

“Is it anything like what you want to do to me now?” You spoke as you batted your lashes and dug your fingers between the denim and his skin.

He gritted his teeth together once your palm met his pubic bone and your nimble digits circled around his hidden shaft.

He almost growled in response as he pressed himself hard against your hand.

“Oh, Doll. You have no idea. I mean, look at you.” He tilted his head until it tapped yours, just to get a better view of your precious little costume.

“You came all the way to my house, dressed like this.” His own fingers reached up to tug at one of the little straps at your waist and let it go to snap back against your skin.

“Ouch…Don’t you like it?” You give him a shy little pout as he huffs and puffs above you.

“I do.” It was spoken lowly as his eyes slipped back up your body to meet yours.

His hand comes up to tuck a finger under your chin, pushing your head up so that your lips meet his for a small but slow kiss.

His mouth slides over yours, his tongue dipping against your bottom lip before he slides it between his teeth.

He has you easily distracted, giving him room to slide his hands from the sides of your neck and over the little straps of your top. His fingers graze the soft skin of your tummy before his arms circle your waist. You were still too mesmerized by the flick and prod of his tongue along yours as his mouth engulfed you to stop him as his arms tightened around your body.

He pulled you from the wall and swung your body toward the edge of the nearby sofa. Your shoes buckled as your bottom hit the armrest, and your body teetered over to hit his cushy navy-colored pillows. You couldn’t help the giggles that erupted from your belly, nor could he help but give a sly smile as he stepped towards you to cover your body with his.

He was met instead with your hands pressing to his chest to push him back up and off of you, still chuckling as you teased him. “Hey, where’s my candy, mister?"

He stood back with an amused huff. It takes so much out of him not to just attack you right now, fingers digging hard into his own apullstry as he looks down at your teasy little pout. He could swear that if he saw you pop out your bottom lip one more time, he was going to bite it again. “Are you serious?"

"I said trick or treat; now where's my candy?" You punctuate the last word by pressing the hard platform of your heel against his chest to keep him from trying to devour you any further. You wanted to be reckless and push him just that extra inch to knock him over the edge.

"You little brat."

He still had half a bowl of treats left in the bowl he’d discarded onto the side table, so he took a sharp breath before speaking again: “You want candy? Oh, I’ll get you some damn candy.”

He tore himself away to haughtily dig through the bowl, grabbing a wide lollipop before bringing the plastic wrapper to his mouth and tearing it away with his teeth. It was bright green with a bit of chewy caramel at the top to mimic a candy apple. He leans back over you to bring the loli to your sweet pink lips, growling out a single word.

“Lick!”

You didn’t have to be told twice while flicking your wet tongue along the hard candy. The taste of a sour green apple nearly stings the tip of your tongue until it reaches the sweet caramel top.

“What do you say, Doll?” The words rumbled from his chest to vibrate into the air as he stared down at you like some easy but elusive prey.

“Mm, thank you.” You say this as you drag your mouth along the lolli before leaning up to take it fully into your mouth to give it a good suck.

“Now where we’re we, until you so bratily interrupted me.” He gritted out a tight, hungry smile as his fingers left the little plastic stick at the end of your sour, sweet candy apple prize. He wouldn’t be made to wait any longer. It had been so long since he had last seen you, often making him sweat and bite at his knuckles at the memory of your tight little pussy wrapped so deliciously around his cock. He’d have to watch you walk around your yard in your sweet girly skirts as they grazed the top of your thighs; any higher, and you’d be flashing the neighborhood your lacy delicates.

No, you’ve made him wait far too long. This time you came to him, wrapped up in slutty pink ribbons like the little devil you were, and he was going to sink his teeth right in. He looks down at your latex panties, flicking the little zipper over your mound before taking it between his thumb and pointer fingers. He dropped to his knees and leaned in to take the side of the fabric between his teeth before pulling the zipper down to expose your dewy pink petals to the cool evening air.

You were already slick, no doubt excited by your own naughty little display. Yet, you pretended to pay him no mind as you sucked at the lolli. It only worked to make him want to tease you further as he dragged his lips along your mound until they met your sweet folds. He’s slipping his tongue through them, dipping it into your core to lap at your sweet nectar.

You tried to fight the tingling tickle of his wet muscle as it pried you open to dip deep into your quivering pink channel. You bit down on the candy as you held in a shaky gasp and tried not to squirm around beneath him.

“You think you can hold it, princess? I’ll make you cream on my face. Make these knees shake through the whole night.” He didn’t mind your resolve for now; it would be just another challenge he would easily crush.

He dragged his teeth over your sensitive bud, finally pushing a weak little whine past your lips as his tongue slid over that magic pearl to circle it with the tip.

“Bucky!” Your voice quaked as the lolli cracked under the pressure of your bite. Your body is keening and bowing, subconsciously pushing your pussy against his busy lips.

He ate you raw until the little plastic stick fell from between your lips as you struggled to swallow the sweet-sour candy mixture. Then you were his, huffing and harping out little gasps and cries, gushing out onto his tongue as he delved into your fluttering cunt. You’d nearly reached that peak when he finally pulled away, leaving you to whine at the loss.

He wiped the excess slick from his lips with the back of his hand before quickly crawling over your shaking body. He falls his hands into fists, pressing them into the cushions beside your hips and head.

“Don’t be like that. If I’m gonna make you cum, then it’s gonna be wrapped around my cock.” He nipped at your wobbly bottom lip before sliding his mouth over yours, snaking his tongue past your teeth to lap at the sour-sweet flavor within and mixing it with the taste of your sloppy cunt as it still lingered on his lips.

He pulled away from you with a messy pop, leaning up just enough to dig the button on his jeans out of its loop and dragging its zipper down. He pressed his hand into the open denim, pulling his hardened member into his fist to drag it out to press against you.

It was hard enough that it nearly curved, and you watched as he gave himself a long test pump and nearly drooled at the sight of a drop of cloudy precum pearling out at the tip before dripping onto your bare mound.

He looked up at your gawking face and chuckled as he aligned himself with the messy opening of your sweet pink pussy. Like the hard press of his knuckles into the upholstery below, his movements were harsh but slow. He breached your tender core with one long, hard, agonizing thrust. You were plenty wet after the way you had made a mess on his tongue, so he could just slide himself in until his balls pressed to your ass and the head of his cock twitched against the deepest part of your cunt.

“Ah..fuck..I missed this.” He growled down at you as he dragged his hips back, unsheathing himself from you and letting the head of his cock pull through your trembling body.

“You don’t visit me enough, doll. I swear.”

“Mm..sorry,” you could barely think as he pushed back inside, savoring the feel of you throbbing around him as he leaned down to press his forehead to yours. You can hardly hold onto where your nails had dug into the sofa as he drove himself in and out of your tight channel. Pushing little gasps out of your belly.

When he reached down to grip your knees, pushing them up near your chest and driving himself in and out of you as he did. It nearly made you choke on the building drool behind your tongue. “Ah”

The smack of his pelvis meeting your thighs echoed through the dark room as he growled out into the hair. “FuUck, y-you better not keep me waiting this long again! Ah-I fuckin mean it, princess!"

You couldn’t respond with anything other than a series of sharp squeals as he forced the air from your lungs with each thrust into you. He just continued to smash at the tightly winding spring in the pit of your belly until it twisted hard enough that it finally snapped.

You bit down on the knuckle of your finger as you gushed around his cock. Your sore pussy clamped around him as he drove the climax through every bone in your body, leaving you a shaking mess beneath him.

The deep timber of his voice rang through the air to mix with your little cries as he chased after his own end. You were so tight and perfect that it would be too much, and with some better judgment, he pulled away right as he knew he’d start to spill.

He squeezed the head of his cock in his fist as his hips spasmed above you, and his seed finally spurted out onto his palm.

You have a small disappointment whine as you watch a bit of his cum drip from his fingers. What a waste.

“Don’t pout. We got lucky last time, but we don’t want to have any accidents; now do we, Doll?”

You barely hear him, still lost in your own little afterglow, as you push yourself up and take one of his sticky fingers between your lips. You give his digit a hard suck before pulling away to flick your tongue over his palm and lap up his seed.

“Oh, shit..you like that? Just licking up my cum, you little slut?” You chuckled deeply as he ran his clean hand through your messy hair.

You give a little nod and a mumbled “mhm” before he pulls your head away by the back of your hair, making the little pink plastic horns fall from your head.

The night was far from over as he turned you into his sweet pink fuckdoll until the sun rose through the windows of his living room. Even then, he was hesitant to let you go, but when the time came, he offered you a change of clothes to cover your sullied costume. Making it a little easier to walk home in the light of day.

Now, dressed in a baggy t-shirt, sweatpants, and your clunky heels, you bid him goodbye.

You say it sweetly as you lean in on your tippy toes for one last kiss, whispering, “Until next time, Mr. Barnes.”

He meets your little peck before answering with “I’ll be waiting.”

[mrs-bucky-barnes106]

happy birthday to the most wonderful super soldier, drummer, cannibal, surgeon, swimmer, warlock, and con man in the world!! i love you sebastian stan!! 41 never looked better <3

[lex-is-up-all-night-to-get-bucky]

More ai-generated Bucky giving me filthy thoughts. Also from tiktok @animavelita