Holometabolous Metamorphosis 🦋

Holometabolous metamorphosis 🦋

Holometabolous Metamorphosis 🦋
Holometabolous Metamorphosis 🦋

Part 2- Thanatosis 🦋

Holometabolous metamorphosis- Also called complete metamorphosis is a form of insect development that involves four stages of life: egg, larva, pupa (cocoon) and adult.

Dark!Mean!Mafia!Biker! Bucky x innocent!victim!Reader

Warnings: absolutely non con, dark!Bucky, mean!Bucky, Beefy!Bucky, innocent!reader, name calling, manipulation, abuse, bruises (not the kinky kind), dacryphilia, punching, slapping, mentions of blood, heavy angst, reader blames themselves (if you’re getting abused it not your fault), talk of death, allusions to suicide

Nicknames: whore, stupid, dumb

Read this at you own discretion. This is actually one of the darkest things I’ve ever written. I do have a continuation of it so if I finish it I’ll link it.

༻ 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐓𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐀𝐬𝐤𝐬 ༺

Holometabolous Metamorphosis 🦋
Holometabolous Metamorphosis 🦋

Surely I am dying. My head pounds as I hold the cover closer to me, hugging his pillow tighter as the rain clatters down, harsh like pebbles being thrown at a window, and the wind picks up outside, howling as gusts in all directions shake the trees. My ears prick at the sound of a branch scratching repeatedly at the window, the grating sound causes my brows to pinch together as I pull at the heavy covers, dragging them over my ear. The dark room is illuminated briefly by the blinding white of lightning. It allows me to see the dreary grey walls, lighter than the current sky which is a deep, dark never ending pit that allows for nothing to exist, the closet door is slightly ajar. It’s freezing, my teeth chatter, I ball my body up further, shrugging my shoulders till they reach the bottom of my ear and squeeze, tighter than I’ve ever squeezed before on the pillow. Bucky. The name flashes in my mind and more tears slip over my nose onto the pillow, I take a deep breath allowing his scent that still clings to the pillow to hijack my lungs- the smell of a warm bonfire, the leathery smell of his jacket, petrichor, musky magnolia wood and the oil from his motorbike. My thumb caresses the corner of the pillow and the knot in my throat grows painfully tighter, I bite on my lower lip keeping the sob that is trying to escape my chest inside. I let one of my hands drift to the impression of him that remains in my mattress, the outline of his bulky frame. It’s cold, colder than the bitter wind outside. I miss the days when the impression was filled by him, his feverish warmth and his solid, yet soft muscles. I miss the days when I could lean against his chest and hear the steady, strong rhythm of his heart. I miss the days when he’d run his calloused hands over my skin, under the covers, making the shape of stars, hearts or just random squiggles. I miss him so much, his soothing presence.

The room is illuminated again and I see blood on the pillow from my lip. I throw off the weighty covers, my naked body is kissed by the cold and my skin is pinched softly as it is littered with goosebumps. I throw my legs over the side of the bed, the floorboards groaning as I stumble out into the hallway. I cling desperately to the wall, trying my best to walk as a dull ache radiates through my calves and stinging throbs between my legs, sharp pains jab me as I shuffle like a newborn giraffe towards the glowing warm light of my bathroom. I push the door weakly and am faced with the mirror. Surely I am dying. I wish I was already dead, I want to sink to the floor. I glance over to the dead moths on the yellowed, flakey paint of my windowsill. I want to be a moth, I want the simple little life of a moth. I once thought being with him was freedom, but now I can see, true freedom is death and although I look like death, although I feel like death I am not yet dead.

The room is illuminated again and I see blood on the pillow from my lip. I throw off the weighty covers, my naked body is kissed by the cold and my skin is pinched softly as it is littered with goosebumps. I throw my legs over the side of the bed, the floorboards groaning as I stumble out into the hallway. I cling desperately to the wall, trying my best to walk as a dull ache radiates through my calves and stinging throbs between my legs, sharp pains jab me as I shuffle like a newborn giraffe towards the glowing warm light of my bathroom. I push the door weakly and am faced with the mirror. Surely I am dying. I wish I was already dead, I want to sink to the floor. I glance over to the dead moths on the yellowed, flakey paint of my windowsill. I want to be a moth, I want the simple little life of a moth. I once thought being with him was freedom, but now I can see, true freedom is death and although I look like death, although I feel like death I am not yet dead.

I run my shaking fingers over the bruise around my eye socket. Flowers of deep purples and black and sickly yellowish green buds climb along my cheek bone. I flinch away from my own touch “Stupid” I mutter to myself as I turn the handle of the tap, a metallic creak accompanies the sputter and cough of water as it forms a steady stream. I gather it in my cupped hands, relishing in the warmth, as warm as his skin. I crane my neck down and throw it at my face, rubbing at my stinging split lip with my pinky. I grab my face towel and dab my face dry, looking again in the mirror. Bruises, bushes of purple and black. Estranged petals adorn my waist from where he grabbed me harshly and held me down. A shudder runs down my spine as I feel the ghost of his hands digging into me, little bloody half moons accompany the bruises.

The sky hit its drum once again, I fell to my knees. My hands meeting the cold tiles, reddish brown stained the grout. I hadn’t cleaned it yet. I crawled straight to bed as soon as he left. I can hear his animalistic growls echo off the walls, growls as he plunged into me holding my legs open painfully wide, my hips threatening to come out of their sockets. He was like a man possessed, I’d never seen his eyes so dark and stormy before, wide and pregnant with malice ready to rain on me. I could smell the whiskey on him as he leaned down demanding I kissed him, I refused. That’s when he punched me and grabbed my jaw in a crushing grip, forcing me to kiss him— it was more than just whiskey; this time he was hammered— regardless of my sobs and incoherent pleading. I don’t know what I was pleading for. Maybe for him to stop, maybe for him to go harder, maybe for him to be kinder… I don’t know. Stupid brain, stupid idiot. ‘Stupid’ is what he called me. A ‘dumb whore’, a ‘hole to fuck’ as he snapped his hips chasing his release, unbothered if he pleased me or not. He slapped my face, his ring catching on my lip and tearing it open. He yanked my hair brutally from the root, one of his many rings scraping my scalp sending a white hot throb through my nerves. He demanded that I cry harder, the harder I cried the quicker this would go and the harder his dick would get is what he said. He was hard enough, as his thick cock tore through me slick with blood. Bucky had always been a loose cannon, but usually he directed it towards beating up men who owed him money or waging war on rival gangs. But today he wanted to take it out on me, all he wanted was sex but when I didn’t want to; he decided he was bored with me, my wings were ugly and tattered, but he wanted them, he wanted my freedom so he took it. He burnt my wings off. He raped me. He wouldn’t stop. I wish he just killed me with one of his prized knives. My winter soldier, my flame, my demise.

I hugged myself despite the pain, rocking back and forth on the tiled floor. He’s never coming back. I'm gonna die. I'm dying without him. I need him, he burns me so sweetly. Bucky Bucky Bucky. The chant of his name fills my head as I curl up on the floor like an abandoned animal, like the moth on my windowsill. Surely I am dying.

Holometabolous Metamorphosis 🦋

Part 2- Thanatosis

More Posts from Buckyscombatboots and Others

2 years ago

hey Thanatosis was amazing it is not tue final part right i wanna see his sad fucking face and i need reader to wake the fuck up

Unfortunately, Thanatosis was the final part. It was meant to replicate the sad reality of abuse and how it is a never ending cycle of promises, which are inevitably broken by an abuser.

However, after I have finished Monstertober, in November I will be releasing my new series ‘Now and Forever’ which is similar to Thanatosis in premise.

Hey Thanatosis Was Amazing It Is Not Tue Final Part Right I Wanna See His Sad Fucking Face And I Need

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2 years ago

Never stop chasing me 🐕

Never Stop Chasing Me 🐕
Never Stop Chasing Me 🐕

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Reader

Warnings: Overprotective!Ransom, softdom!Ransom, angst, Beefy!Ransom, mentions of mean!Ransom, cunnilingus, praise, body worship, p in v

Nicknames: Puppy

Word count: 2.9k

You’ve been in love with Ransom for as long as he could remember. It was obvious to everyone around you, even to him but he ignored it. He liked feeling wanted. He liked the look of pure admiration in your eyes. He liked how you’d follow him around like a puppy. And he loved your adorable jealous face when he flirted with others. But lately you haven’t been coming around, you’ve been avoiding him completely. Then he sees you with another man. He can’t bear it, he needs you back.

Master list

Tag list🎀

Never Stop Chasing Me 🐕

Wherever Ransom went, you weren’t far behind. At the country club? You were there. At social events? You were there. Shopping for new clothes? You were definitely there; carrying his bags, giving opinions on outfits and keeping him company. Your behaviour had earned you the nickname ‘Puppy’, well at least, that was what the nicer people called you. Others, who were less nice, called you a more explicit word of the same origin. The nickname had stuck, even Ransom called you it now ‘Puppy, carry this.’ or ‘Puppy, follow me.’ or ‘Puppy, put that down’ They’d all become frequent commands. He liked having a little puppy to follow him everywhere, despite him disliking dogs—he liked you, though he would never show it. He loved the fact that no matter what he did you’d always run back to him. He adored the sad puppy eyes you always gave him; whenever he abandoned you to go off with others or whenever he said something inherently mean to you like insulting your outfit, hair or just general appearance that day—he loved the sight of tears threatening to spill from your big eyes and your lip quivering at his insults, it was one of his favourite activities. He felt powerful when he did it, something he always lacked at home—but you slotted right into that category of need perfectly. He valued your friendship deep, deep down in his seemingly non existent heart. He refused to show it though, because to show it was to admit that he needed you and he didn’t need anyone…Or did he?

But then it happened the next day, and the day after that and then just like that a week had passed. A bleak, lonely week. He sat snuggled in a sweater on one of the cushiony, cream chairs next to the roaring fireplace. He’d been on the same page of the latest fashion mag for almost an hour, staring blankly at the model; pretending to himself that he was reading it and that he totally was not waiting for you to reply to his 30th text or 50th missed call.

But then it happened the next day, and the day after that and then just like that a week had passed. A bleak, lonely week. He sat snuggled in a sweater on one of the cushiony, cream chairs next to the roaring fireplace. He’d been on the same page of the latest fashion mag for almost an hour, staring blankly at the model; pretending to himself that he was reading it and that he totally was not waiting for you to reply to his 30th text or 50th missed call.

He had caved on the third day. He couldn’t bare the silence any more. It was making him antsy, his leg was continually bouncing and for the first time in forever he’d begun biting his nails again—a habit he’d had to try so hard to curb. God damn he missed you. He missed your presence, the soft chime of your sing-song tone, the light pitter patter of your feet as you followed closely behind him and your scent—he missed that most—it was so comforting, he’d instantly relax when he smelt you. He was crumbling without it. He threw down the magazine, onto the small black table that divided the chairs, in frustration throwing his head back, resting an arm on his forehead and letting out an elongated Ughh. He was bored and lonely. Argh he hates that word: Lonely. Why the fuck should he, Hugh Ransom Drysdale, have to be lonely? It was a ridiculous concept. The words Drysdale and lonely do not align, they should never be placed next to each other. It was sacrilege. But somehow it happened.

He needed to fuck someone.

That was the conclusion he had come to, that’s why he was here at ‘Miss Scarlet’ ‘The hottest bar in town’ is what every stupid tourist site called it. To Ransom, it was exclusively known as ‘the bird nest’ because it was one of the only places he went to pick up women. Aside from the country club, of course, but he'd almost run entirely through its supply of hot milfs looking to cheat on their husbands. So now he was here, nursing a drink whilst he flirted with a hot blonde at the bar. That’s when he saw you. More dressed up than he’d ever seen you before, giggling at a guy's jokes, touching his arm whilst he kissed along your delicate face. He squeezed the glass in his hand so hard that it threatened to shatter. He slammed his glass into the polished bar top, leaving his maraschino cherry. And he never left his maraschino cherry.

Before he knew it he was striding over to you, uncaring about the looks he was getting as he parted the crowd like the Red Sea to get to you. You were stunned at the sight of him; his eyes narrowed, dark and dangerous, chest heaving, hair slightly tousled and nostrils flared as he stood tall, towering over you and the man you were fooling around with “Get up, Puppy. We’re leaving.” He demanded, waiting for you to comply. You remained seated “Puppy. Get up. Now.” He ordered sneering at the fact that he had to repeat himself, he had never had to do that with you. You had always followed commands the second they were uttered. You ignored him for the second time, he was livid. “Hey you. Yeah you, fuck face, who else I’m I talking to? Take a fucking walk okay? Just piss off.” the man shifted in his seat but you grabbed his wrist, looking at him with your puppy eyes. That broke him.

His pride took the back seat, as walked into the booth seizing your wrist and using little of his strength to pull you in his chest. His other hand drifting to the small of your back, your scent hit him. Fuck he needed you, more than he’d needed anyone before. He’d never noticed how much bigger he was than you, how he practically engulfed you. It made him hard. He picked you up, cradling you in his arms- as if you were a fragile baby—and grabbed your stuff before marching out of the bar towards his prized BMW. He set you down in the passenger seat and then got into the drivers side. You started to frantically pull at the door handle, trying to get out of here. You couldn’t be in here with him, you could feel all the words you’d wished you said tangling inside you; getting trapped in you throat forming a painful lump as your lip wobbled and tears rolled down your cheeks “Open the door! Ransom!” You thought you sounded fine aside from when you said his name, your voice quaked and you let out a little whimper. He noticed though and it made his heart ache at the sound of your pain. Finally you gave up on the door.

“The child lock is on, you won’t be running from me, Puppy. I need to talk to you, let’s get to my house first.” You didn’t respond “Do your seatbelt up.” You made no movement to do so, crossing your arms over your chest and looking out the window. Ransom leaned across you, buckling you in. He swiped at the tears on the cheek facing him, telling you it was going to be okay before turning the key and starting the drive back to his house.

You were silent the whole journey, aside from your sobs that you attempted to muffle in the sleeve of your auburn sweater. He put some calming music on low volume hoping to calm you. It didn’t work. Your sobs just became more ragged, he could see your whole body shaking in his peripheral vision as he pulled up to the house.

He immediately got out of the car, wasting no time as he practically ran to your side. Throwing open the door, swiftly unbuckling your seat belt and pressing you back into his chest, rocking you like an infant and shushing you as he rubbed soothing circles into your back. He locked the car and walked up to his house, struggling to unlock the door. He finally did, kicking the door open and shutting it ungracefully behind him as he entered the living room setting you down on the couch. He finally looked at your face. It was red and wrecked with tears and snot that you had attempted to rub away with your sleeve. You hiccuped as more tears came, the gravity of the situation crushing your chest pushing all your emotions out of you, you tried to cover yourself, to curl in on yourself so he couldn’t see your disheveled state as you unwound before him. He plopped down next to you and pulled you close “Y/N you need to look at me, okay? We need to talk about this. I need to know why you left.”

You slowly let down your arms “why I left? Ransom y-you k-know why I left.” You choked looking at him incredulously. He stared at you dumbfounded, he had no idea. “You make me feel s-so insignificant, you’re always so mean to m-me despite e-everything I do for y-you and you always ignore m-me and make me feel like I don’t even… I don’t even e-exist.” You cursed yourself for stuttering, you looked and sounded pitiful. You whimpered as his hand stroked your cheek, leaning into his cool hand for relief from the sweltering warmth that was stifling you.

“I never knew you felt like that. I was so lonely without you, Puppy.”

“Stop it.” You sniffled, face scrunching up in anger as you pulled away from his touch

“Stop what?”

“Calling me Puppy. I hate it. You always use it to make fun of me, you hate dogs Ransom so it’s your way of saying you h-hate me.” You mumble in a strained voice, a fresh stream of salty tears ran down your face as you choked painfully on the tight knot in your throat, a sob wracking your body as he squeezed you tighter into his muscular chest .

“I’m not making fun of you. I call you Puppy because you follow me around like one. I love you. This week without you made me realise that. I can’t be without you, my life falls to pieces when I don’t have you here. I love you, Puppy. I can’t see you with another man, it hurt so much and it made me so fucking angry.” He had to stop the anger from over taking him, he didn’t want to scare you, but just picturing that guy putting his lips on you made him want to ravish you. He began kissing your tears away and wiped your nose with a tissue from the table “No more crying okay? Because you’re making me cry too.” And it was true there were actual tears running down his face, for the first time ever he was actually crying. Your tiny hand cupped his face, marvelling at the tears that were actually falling from his eyes “I’ve known you loved me ever since we became friends. But I liked you chasing me.”

“You’re such an asshole Ransom.” You chuckled tucking yourself into the crook of his neck, he soon removed you.

“I know, but I’m your asshole, Puppy.” You swooned at the idea of him being yours, you’d always prayed the day would come when he’d say he loved you and now your dream had come true. His head dipped down just enough to be at level with yours and then he kissed you, curling his rough fingers into your hair as he deepened the kiss. It had started as an innocent kiss, but there was nothing innocent about the way his tongue crept into your mouth or the little moan you let out as he lightly tugged your hair. It metamorphosed into teeth and steamy gasps for air between kisses, your tongues thrashing together with insatiable hunger, as he pushed you back into the couch; your head resting against the arm rest as he continued to devour you. He finally pulled away and admired his handy work. Your lips were red and swollen and your eyes were clouded with lust, practically gawking at him as you shifted uncomfortably pleading for him to continue. Those puppy eyes would be the death of him.

He threw his cable knit sweater to the ground and slipped between your legs, tearing a hole in your tights and pushing your panties to the side. “Ransom you don’t have to do that.” You exclaimed, pushing at his head and squeezing your thighs closed, his strong hands parted them.

“Today is about you. I need to show you how much I love you, Puppy, and the best way to show you is with my mouth.” He ran his tongue between your dripping folds, he let out a deep moan when the taste of you reached him “So fucking sweet.” He growled, pushing his tongue into your clenching hole. One of his hands drifted down your clit, gathering some of your slick before circling the little bud of nerves as he attacked the spongy sweet spot inside of you. You threw your head back, your hands scrambling to take hold of his silky locks. Even his hair felt expensive. You drove your hips into his mouth forcing him further into you.

“Feels so good.” You pant as he pulls out his tongue and replaces it with his fingers, continuing to attack the spot that made your toes curl. His lips closed around your clit licking, sucking and biting ever so gently. He flicked his tongue over your pearl, relishing in your mewls

“That’s it, Puppy, you’re close. Come on my face. I want to taste you. Come.” He ordered, attacking you clit with new found vigour as your hips raised up off the sofa your thighs shook as the using warmth inside you came to its peak. You screamed as he abused your clit even through your orgasm, squirting all over his face. He lapped at you a few times before pulling away. Cold air kissing your tepid, wet pussy sending goosebumps across your skin. Ransom's face was glistening with your slick and his lips were swollen and red. He pulled your tights, underwear and skirt all at once and pulled your sweater over your head, leaving your nude body completely bare to his wandering gaze “you’re gorgeous.” He uttered, not intending for you to hear, stroking his calloused palms against your smooth skin, running his hand over every single curve and dip “I want to worship you, I’ll open a temple for just me and you because you are my goddess. I need to worship you.” You covered your face in embarrassment, he pulled your arms away from your face. “Don’t do that with me, Puppy, I want to see every single one of your beautiful expressions.” He cooed as he undid his pinstripe slacks and pulled down his boxers freeing his length that had been begging to escape, it was heavy and long with a thick vein tracing up the shaft. It twitched as he took a hold of the thick shaft, hovering it over your lower stomach “I’m going to fill you so we’ll, Puppy.” He rasped before nudging the head at your entrance. He pushed his whole length in with a grunt, his dick stretching your walls, relishing in your cries as your back arched further into him. Your hands wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer, sucking his shoulder. The scent of his cologne weaved it’s way into your lungs, it was an intoxicating woody magnolia with a hint of vanilla—he smelt like an expensive candle from bath and body works. It was so comforting. You nibbled his neck and he let out a groan and ruts so deep into you that your breath catches in your throat, you let out a high pitched yelp which melts into a moan as he grinds his tip against your cervix a mind numbing sensation blows through you as his nails dig into your hips his girthy cock perfectly rubbing against all the right spots.

your legs clamped around him, drawing him deeper into you, your fingers taking down his back leaving angry red streaks in their wake. You threw your head back, your mouth gaping open in a silent wail “You’re close, Puppy. Me too. Come whenever you want, I’m right behind you.” He moaned, bracing himself on his elbows on top of you.

“Gonna come! Gonna comeee Ransom!” You squealed, he squeezed your clit between his fingers. Plasmid starburst exploded behind your eyelids, sweat collecting at your clavicle as a pleasurable numbness coats your whole being. Ransom fucked you through your orgasm, his thrust becoming unquardinated reaching his peak with a grunt. His messed up hair, damp with sweat drags across your forehead as his lips connect with yours in a compassionate kiss. You let your eyelids fall closed.

Ransom cleaned you up with a warm rag and carried you up to his room, he wanted you to feel safe, to feel comfortable, to feel wanted. He stroked your sleeping face, trying to memorise your peaceful expression. He never wanted to see you upset ever again, he promised he wouldn’t cause you sadness. The only tears he wanted to see was from the pleasure he gave you “Never stop chasing me. I need you, Puppy.” He whispered, placing a kiss on your forehead and leaning back letting out a content sigh. All he needed was you.

Never Stop Chasing Me 🐕

Tag list: @alina02 @unabashed-lover-of-fictional-men @petesey @cevansgurl @getwellsoontana


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2 years ago

I can definitely see how you thought it may be Loki and although I love the guy, it not him—all is revealed in ‘Careful what you wish for’ And in the sequel that I’m going to be writing for ‘Shrine built of Lies’, the demon is going to delve out some much deserved payback to Bucky and Steve for being such little cretins and of course she going to get to watch ☺️

Monstertober Day 7:

Shrine built of lies

Monstertober Day 7:

Pairing: Occultist!Stucky x Victim!/captured!Reader

Warnings: Non con!!!, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Death, reader is a sacrifice, knife play?, mentions of blood, public sex, voyeurism, humiliation, implied cult, mystery demon, choking, blood kink, Dark!Stucky, p in v, oral (male receiving) , spitting in readers mouth, dacryphilia, manipulation, betrayal of trust

Nicknames: Doll, Dove

Word count: 2.6k

A/N: Who do you guys think the mysterious demon is? It’ll be revealed tomorrow 😏 and I may make a sequel of this featuring the aftermath and this particular demon 😈

༻𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐓𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐌𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫༺

Monstertober Day 7:

From behind your eyelids you can feel a blaring light on your face, your body is uncomfortably warm; sweat rolling down your temple, your clothes damp—sticking to your body almost as if it was a summer afternoon, but it was October. Your mouth feels as if it’s stuffed with cotton wool—you move your tongue around and swallow to generate saliva, but a painful ache radiates in your throat as you do. There’s a mass of indistinct mumbling, so intune that it’s like the thrumming of a hive of bees. You keep your eyes closed, moving your hand across the cool stone feeling a smooth, waxy residue as you soak up the coolness. You don’t remember falling asleep and you definitely weren’t in your house, you think you must have fallen asleep during your lunch break.

Sluggishly you open your heavy eyelids, squinting as the light dominates your vision. Slowly you adjust, opening your eyes fully and you let your eyes wander around you. You’re surrounded by people in black robes, they’re hanging over you; they’re black hoods covering their face as they chant. You’re surrounded by heaps of long, white pillar candles, the hot wax dripping onto the stone slab you were laid on. You try to move your arm but the jangle of a chain pauses your movements, the copper scent of your own blood reaches your nose; your wrists are rubbed raw from you moving in your sleep. The people stop chanting and begin to shuffle away from you, moving as if they are all sewed together—so synchronised that it’s horrifying. As they move away you can see more of your surroundings. Intricately carved, Chalky, white pillars decorated with crooked crosses and dripping taper candles. You were in a cathedral, facing the massive wooden doors. The people at your feet began to part, allowing you to see two men approaching briskly. Their black robes more ornate than the others; decorated with silver and red embroidery, jewels and rosaries. At the bottom of the altar they split, one going to your left, the other going to your right. They pushback their hoods allowing you to see their faces, your eyes go wide.

“Hiya, Doll.” Bucky’s familiar smooth Brooklyn accent reaches your ears, and even though you’re chained to an altar, in clothes that are not your own and he and Steve are more than likely responsible. Your face burns and you begin to tingle, your hole fluttering in response to his voice.

“Did you have a nice nap, Dove? You made our coffees just how we like them, you were so preoccupied that you didn’t even notice Buck slipping something into your own drink.”

They were responsible.

You knew they were, but hearing Steve confess made the betrayal sting just a bit more. As if they were twisting the knives they’d both stabbed in your back. You had made these two coffee everyday for almost two months straight, you got to know about their childhoods; how Bucky used to protect Steve when he was scrawny and used to get into street fights, you learnt they joined the military together and now they lived together. You trusted them. They were the favourite part of your shift and now they've betrayed you. The guilt took the form of a lump in your throat as tears brimmed your eyes. You thought they liked you, you thought they were flirting with you—that they wanted you to be a part of their lives. Tears rolled down your burning cheeks “Don’t cry, Doll, you’re safe. You’re with us Steve and Bucky, history professor and personal trainer. That’s the lie we told you wasn’t it? Or was that the last one?”

“Aw Buck, look at her. Her whole world’s fallin’ apart. Be gentle with her, or don’t it’ll be more fun if you’re not.” This Steve was completely different from the bashful, kind man who frequented the coffee shop you worked at. They both were, they were completely different, the dichotomy was terrifying. The fact they had both been so deceitful and created completely alternate personalities just to be able to kidnap and kill you for some freaky cult made the anguish inside you boil into indignation.

“What the fuck is going on!?” You screeched the venom left from their treachery laced in your words.

Bucky slaps you harshly across the face “Don’t use that type of language. Doll. It’s not ladylike, and it’s especially inappropriate in this place of worship. This is a sacred place for the Holy Army of Hydra. We didn’t lie completely, after all we were in the army and now we’re in a different kind of army.”

One of the cloaked followers breaks from the line and scuttles over to Steve, whispering into his ear “Bucky, it’s almost time. We need to start the ceremony soon, or it’ll be too late.”

“What ceremony?”

“That's why you’re here, Doll, you’re our virgin sacrifice that we’re going to corrupt and then offer to our Lord.” Your mouth hung open as you stared at him wide eyed in disbelief. Bucky stroked his rough knuckles against your soft cheek as he shushed you “Shhh, there’s no need to be scared, Doll. You’re gonna be helping us and you’ll feel so much pleasure before we end your pathetic, meaningless little life. All you did with your life was make coffees for minimum wage, you won’t miss livin’ much.” His honeyed words only made your eyes leak more, he gave you a twisted smile as you began to sniffle your tears turning into full on sobs “Keep going you're makin me harder. I love it when they cry.”

“You’re so pretty when you cry, little Dove. I just wanna hit you more. Maybe strangle you, watch you choke on your own congealed spit and tears.” You shied away from his touch as he reached for your neck, but you couldn’t go far thanks to your restraints “Just one of my hands fits around your entire neck” he gave a little squeeze, smirking as you coughed and then he flashed the warm smile he gave you when he first entered the coffee shop two month prior. The smile that made you instantly fall in love with him, the smile you saw in your dream when you imagined your future with them both. He gave you that smile and tightened his grip, they both laughed as you flailed your arms about—trying to reach him to get him to stop, as you began to choke feeling all the oxygen quickly drain from your lungs. You were gasping for air like a fish out of water and then he let go “Breathe. You’re gonna need it, Dove.”

“And Now loyal followers! We will begin the ritual, close the circle around us. Don’t let go of each other's hands or you’ll make our Lord angry, so no matter what you must hold hands and not break the chant. Begin.”

Bucky ran his hand across the smooth surface of the altar as strode to where your feet were. He climbed on to it, using his strength to bend your legs at the knee, even despite your resistance, and positioned himself between your legs. The white chemise bunch at your hips leaving your bare pussy on display for all to see. “You’re dripping for us, Doll. Do you like being watched? Do you like being captured and held against your will? Does the prospect of being released from the painful existence of this mortal coil excite you?” You furiously shook your head, biting on your lip to suppress a whimper as he ran a hot finger through your folds “Your body is honest, why aren’t you?” He held out his slick covered fingers to Steve and he gladly took them into his mouth.

“So tasty, Dove.” He praised, turning your head on its side to face him “Open your mouth, suck me off. No teeth.” Hesitantly you opened your mouth, Steve slapped his dick against your cheek leaving sticky precum on your in it’s wake before shoving his full length down your throat. You gaged around him, making your throat restrict around him; you could feel every single vein on his shaft and you felt it twitch as you gagged again. Steve groaned in response, taking a handful of your hair as leverage as he abused your throat.

The pain in your jaw was overridden by the blistering ache of Bucky’s thick dick splitting you open. You choked as you tried to scream, digging your nails into Steve’s thigh till you drew blood. The action only made him quicken his thrusts.

“Fuckkk. She feels like silk, Stevie”

Steve swiftly pulled his member out of your mouth and walked over to the end of the altar behind Bucky, his throbbing, wet dick bobbing against his pelvis as he walked. “Change position, I want to feel you around me.” Steve orders, the dominance in his words making the man tearing you apart bite his lip. He complied, shifting his position of being crouched on his knees, to him placing one hand next to your head and using the other to drag your legs around his hips; so he could still thrust into you whilst presenting himself to the approaching blonde. Steve crawled behind him kneeling down, he spat on his fingers and smeared it on Bucky’s clenching rosebud, giving Bucky the care and gentleness that the brunette had skipped over before he shoved himself inside you. “That’s it, open up for me Buck. You’re always so tight when I fuck whilst you’re getting your cock squeezed.” Bucky choked out a moan as Steve scissored his fingers, his thrusts stopped momentarily when Steve slipped inside.

His fist next to your head pounded into the hard stone of the altar as he let out a low moan “God, Steve…F-feels great. She’s really squeezing now, do you like watching Steve fuck me, you little pervert?” His tittering was cut short as Steve began to thrust, making his hips involuntarily move in tandem. The chant of the cultist faded to white noise as pain eventually became pleasure. Bucky’s thrust became less brutal and more loving as Steve thrusted into him slowly and rhythmically, his hands caressing Bucky’s body over the robe. A pleasurable heat swept through you, your clit tingling as Bucky puffed warm breathes down onto you “Get lost in the pleasure, it’s not so bad after all is it.”

“I-I h-hate you.” You whined as the head of Bucky’s cock nudge against the sweet spot inside you. Your mouth opened in a silent wail and Bucky spat into your open mouth.

“Swallow my spit. Be- ah Be grateful.” He scowled at you as he waited expectantly, you did as he said swallowing down his spit “Such a good Doll.” He cooed, his praise made you keen and tighten. Bucky slammed into you brutally, chuckling at your yelp. You were so embarrassed, but God if it didn’t feel good. You had completely forgotten about the circle of chanting people surrounding you. The only thing that existed right now was Bucky, Steve and the pleasure they were drawing from you.

“cummming! Gonna cum!” You exclaimed feeling the heated tingle in your lower belly becoming unbearable.

“Cum. Do it. Make Buck cum, so he can make me cum.” Steve’s deep commanding voice was the final push you needed for your eyes to roll back into your head and your pussy to constrict around Bucky making him cum with a whimpered fuck, pouring so much of his hot cum into you that it began to leak from adding to the puddle of your juices below your hips. Steve wasn’t far behind; forcing Bucky back into his hips with such force you thought he’d dislocate his hip as he came.

Your vision slowly returned, and just as you were no longer seeing only white, from seemingly nowhere Bucky pulled out a highly decorated, sharp dagger and carved a heart into your chest. You yanked at your restraints screaming like a banshee as the knife cut through your flesh, the agony only intensified when Bucky dipped his head and sucked at the fresh wound. He pulled away, licking the blood from his lips, as if it were simply red wine. Steve leaned over towards Bucky, capturing his blood stained lips in a passionate kiss. Moaning as the metallic taste of your blood entered his mouth, his scar littered hands take hold of the dark fabric of Bucky’s robe pulling him closer so he can devour Bucky’s lips; his tongue searching for traces of your blood whilst entangled with Bucky’s. Steve breaks the kiss, leaving Buck a panting mess on top of you, and he dips his head down to the incision Bucky made over your heart sucking blood from the leaking wound like a starved animal making you scream as he pulls at the damaged skin with his teeth. Bucky cards his fingers through Steve’s golden hair as he feasts “That’s it Stevie drink your fill, she tastes so delectable doesn’t she?” Steve hums in response sending vibrations through the throbbing cut making you squeal “You need to stop so she doesn’t pass out before the ritual is complete.” He tries to remove Steve but he growls at Bucky giving him a dark, animalistic scowl as he digs his nails into the skin of your arm “Punk. I said let go.” Bucky yanks his hair making Steve stop and come up from your chest, his face smeared with your blood.

“I’m hungry, Buck. Her blood is so fucking good. I’m hard again.” He mumbles, taking his hard cock into his hand and pumping it.

Bucky slips off the altar and pulls Steve close, running his tongue across Steve’s bloodied cheek and then starts sucking your blood out of his beard; whilst rubbing the pad of his thumb across the slit of Steve’s dick. “They’ll be time to feast on her more later…and take care of other things, but right now we need to complete the ritual. Practice patience, like the Lord commands.” They parted ways again, both returning to their respective places—Bucky on your left, Steve on your right. They both took hold of the dagger, raising it high so the warm light of the candles cast fragments of light around the cathedral

“Please! No! Please!” You cry, whimpering as you try to curl your body away from the path of the knife.

“May our Lord receive our offering.” They both chant, plunge the knife into your throat. Steve immediately lets go, but Bucky pulls out the knife and makes a slit horizontally across your neck. Blood spurts in streams from your neck, like an elegant fountain in a town plaza. The men chanting raise their heads and push back their hoods—moving in unison. They all collect some of your blood onto their fingers and draw a symbol on their foreheads “May our lord receive our offering.” They drone simultaneously. A cold rush of air blows through the cathedral, all the candles blow out leaving them in utter darkness.

“James. What’s going on?” Steve’s voice quivers as he asks, turning his face towards Bucky to try and look into his eyes from comfort. It was impossible to see.

“I don’t know. Steven. None of this shit is meant to be real.” He spat, nerves sending a wave of goosebumps across his skin. His hand sought for Steve’s, entwining his fingers with his for some security. He knew Steve was going to be pissed at him, he thought it was all real after all. It was meant to be fake and only Bucky was meant to know that.

Steve opened his mouth to speak but a booming voice began “Your Lord has arrived. I thank you for the gifts, but I think I want a few more. Maybe all of your souls will suffice.”

Monstertober Day 7:

Tag list: @phildunphyisadilf @alina02 @winterslove1917 @unabashed-lover-of-fictional-men @petesey @getwellsoontana @feyfantome @alexxavicry @ashenc-blog @floral-recs @renster05 @redbloodedgurl @shrekwreck @sweetwrathoflilith @cjand10 @flamefoxxrecs @addie5587483 @little-bunny0523 @sojuxxi @adoreyouusugar @teambarnes72 @wintasssoldier @gryffindorqueensworld @aerangi @itwillgetbetter @cevansgurl @bval-1 @taramaria @inlovewithremusjohnlupin @anniellacinamon

2 years ago

Heys Nia, I’ve been following you for quite some time and I noticed that you were getting called out in this post by a another blog. Is everything alright? I am really enjoying your fanfics so yeah I wanted to let you know.

Heys Nia, I’ve Been Following You For Quite Some Time And I Noticed That You Were Getting Called Out

Hey anon, thank you so much for bringing this to my attention! I had no idea who this person was, so I had no idea about this post. We had a little chat privately and they said that the comment about the nickname was meant light heartedly so everything’s been sorted out!

I would like to remind everyone, that I do this as a hobby in between university work and actual work; and considering I’m going to be starting my PhD studies soon, time is very limited, I don’t always have time to check everything and it’s always appreciated if you comment or inbox me to tell me about a mistake. I won’t be offended, I promise!


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2 years ago

Little update!

Everything has been resolved! At least from my perspective, I’m fine with their explanation which you can read here.

As long as it’s for personal use and not to be passed off as own work I’m fine with people downloading my fics. I just want everyone to enjoy themselves whilst reading; I know how annoying it can be if your favourite fic is deleted, so I understand the sentiment of wanting to maintain its longevity.

Regardless, I’m still thankful for being notified about the situation (specifically big thanks to @darsynia you are an actual angel Istg) and I love how our community supports each other 💕

Ummmm excuse me?????

Ummmm Excuse Me?????
Ummmm Excuse Me?????
Ummmm Excuse Me?????
Ummmm Excuse Me?????

This poster is NOT me.

I posted this fic here on 2/21/23.

How fucking dare you take a piece of my hard work and post it as yours. Whoever did this has some major fucking balls to post the exact piece in the Matt/Reader genre I look at every day.

Fuck you. I've already reported to ao3. My guess is the rest the fics posted aren't yours either.

Write your own work instead of stealing from others.

Seriously, go fuck yourself.

--

2 years ago
Beg Me For It

Beg me for it

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings: oral (male receiving), Oral-fixation, innocent!Steve Rogers, Virgin! Steve Rogers, experienced! Reader but also shy!reader, fem!reader, overstimulation, cock sitting, Cowgirl?, fem!dom, teasing, begging, praise, check-ins, aftercare + fluff

Word count: 2.5k

Brought to you by my brain after the first episode of She-Hulk and a long, steamy convo with my friend at 3am

Beg Me For It

The show had just finished, the same irritating tune of ‘A star Spangled man with a plan’ had finally died down and Steve had finished his preaching of how ‘by purchasing war bonds you too could do your part to stick it to the Fuhrer’ or whatever bullshit they convinced him would get him his own battalion. It made you sick how they openly exploited him, but it also made you question how naïve he truly was—because if they could convince him that he was truly aiding the war effort by being paraded around like a freakshow, then what could you also convince him to do.

You were pulled from your thoughts by the creaking of the curtain finally descending, once it finally reached the ground you let your fake toothy grin fall and relaxed your posture, relieved you sauntered to the back of the stage “Thank god that’s over.” You hear one of the girls call

“Yeah, I’m craving a smoke. You girls coming?”

They all follow behind the main blonde, but just before she fully exits the door to outside the theatre she turns on her heel “Y/N you coming?” She questions, allowing the rest of the girls to walk past her out the door.

“Oh no I’m fine for now, you lot can go I’m gonna stay here and rest.” You let out an awkward laugh, that is absolutely not what you’re going to do, it couldn’t be further from the truth. The moment you began considering how deep America’s sweethearts naivety truly went it caused ideas to rush through your mind of things you wanted to do to him, things that made heat rise all the way to the tips of your ears. You knew you’d never be able to do them to him but it wouldn’t stop you from enjoying yourself.

“Suit yourself I guess, it’s stuffy in here” she let out a disgruntled sound as Maggie pulled the blue, sequin covered collar from her neck rubbing at the scratched skin below it, “ I swear if this thing doesn’t stop itching me I’m going to fu- Mr Rogers hello.” Her whole demeanour shifted, she went from loud mouthed broad to the shy girl next door in seconds, you were almost impressed. Steve just gave her a nod and a wave and disappeared into his room with a red door and brass star drilled into it, you could tell it was for him because it was the biggest and most decorated room, us girls got a communal room to get ready in, one that had blue paint flaking off it to reveal the sludge green colour that the door used to be.

You sat on the stiff blue sofa, running your hand over the cheap material “this is gonna give me carpet burn on my thighs” you huffed shifting around in an attempt to get comfortable, your mind drifted back to Steve who was now alone in his room. Maybe it was time to attempt to assert dominance, do the opposite of what Maggie did; go from shy show girl to dominatrix and try to snag Steve for yourself. The thought of it made you impossibly embarrassed as you clenched around nothing, but it was now or never you were almost completely alone with him. You stood up quickly and practically ran over to the mirror, touching up your makeup and dousing yourself with perfume to ensure you smelt nice “you can do this. You’re gonna knock on his door and lure him in, it’s going to be great, amazing, even…Sexy.” Flattening down your red and white striped skirt, which was unbelievable short, you took one final deep breath and made your way out of the changing room, down the musty corridor littered with faded posters from previous shows that were slowly peeling from the dirty, smoke covered walls which tinged them a darker brown then they should have been. You could hear the producers in their own room talking, probably playing cards, which meant you had time to enjoy yourself.

You were now face to face with Steve’s deep wine red door, it was perfectly pristine more than likely it had been painted over recently, the bronze star was shined to perfection and had the words ‘TALENT’ in bold, block lettering. Hesitantly you lifted your knuckles to the door, rapping on the wood three times. You heard shuffling and the sound of someone tripping before the door opened, revealing Steve’s towering frame. You were looking at his chiselled chest, which you could easily make out from below the tight white wife beater. You slowly leaned your head back to look up at him and locked eyes with his azure ones that had fleeks of green and blue, they reminded you of sea foam, enchanting. “Hi Y/N, is something wrong?” His soothing modulated voice inquired, your eyes drifted down to his soft, full, pink lips. That’s when you knew you had to do it.

“Can I come in, to talk to you?” You questioned in a husky tone, fluttering your eyelashes against your cheeks and looking up to him as innocently as you could muster, attempting to make yourself seem small and fragile.

“Of course, it’s no problem.” a pinkish tint dusted his cheeks and his toned arm found its way behind his head rubbing at his neck in a soothing motion. He let you pass him and your head flitted around the room, bugged eyed. His room was massive and painted crimson, with a red velvet couch facing the wall to ceiling vanity mirrors, that had a cushioned mahogany chair tucked under the floating table; that mirror was definitely going to be used. You seated yourself on his couch, allowing yourself to sink into the plush cushions and patted the area next to you, Steve strode towards you and sat right where you had instructed. The pinkish tint that had been dusting his cheeks early had made its way to his neck and ears and was deepening to a scarlet “so what did you want to…talk about?” He stuttered unable to look at you, you extended your arm and brushed a hand up and down his forearm leaning towards him. His body turned rigid from your touch.

“Look at me Stevie.” You ordered, allowing a smile to tug at your lips, pressing your arm harder into your chest to make your cleavage more prominent “I want you to look at me, please.” His head turned slowly and he crooned his neck down to look at you, a questioning look in his gaze “I need you. Inside me.” He shuffled away till his hips reached the arm of the soaf, so you did the same, except you only stopped once you were practically sat on his meaty thighs

“We can’t do that Y/N, I can’t..” you lifted your eyes to peer into his, moving your hand from his muscular forearm to his jaw that clenched under your touch, his face was scalding, his embarrassment apparent. This was intoxicating.

You brought your other hand to his other cheek and pulled his face towards you, he could have resisted but he was obedient, how useful.

“Why can’t you Stevie? Are you perhaps a virgin?” His tongue jutted out of his mouth and licked his plump lips nervously “You are! Aren’t you!” You gasped in a falsely scandalised voice, you weren’t surprised in the slightest but you wanted his embarrassment to grow and fester, you wanted him to be putty beneath you.

“I haven’t had time…I’m sorry I can’t.” He shifted below you, turning his face

“I can help you. I can be your first, let me pop your cherry, my sweet soldier.” You whispered seductively in his ear caressing the shell of his ear with your nose, slipping one of your hands from one of his cheeks down to his clothed crotch, your hand caressing the area through his washed blue denim Levi’s. A tent began to form “You’re rearing to go down here.” You climbed further on to his lap till you were sat on his growing erection, the blonde tried in vain to bite back a moan. You ground down into his lap determined to hear that sweet thigh clenching sound again, you moaned out his name rubbing your head into his neck, nipping at his bobbing Adam’s apple.

“Please let’s do it.”

“Do what Stevie? You have to say it, tell me what you want, beg me for it.” You breathe

“Fuck me. Please ah.” he begged letting out an uncharacteristically high pitched moan as you began to undo his jeans, you slid off his lap taking his trousers and boxers with you. Allowing his sizable member to spring free, the tip was red and angry, leaking pre-cum and large blue, violet veins pulsated beneath his thin pale skin. You salivated at the sight, you wanted nothing more than to taste the hot salty taste of his release trickle down your throat, you wanted your mouth to be filled with him “What are doing?” He questioned in an almost breathless tone, which was cut off by a grunt as you licked a stripe from his twitching balls to his sensitive tip

“Just you wait and see my little virgin, I’m going to spoil you rotten.” You drew circles with your tongue and popped it in your mouth, giving it a suck before opening your throat and taking him in. You watched as his hand flew to his sides; gripping the velvet of the couch till his knuckles turned white, a strained sob escaping his lips as his head flew back hitting the wall, you slowly inched his cock further into your mouth, a moan from you throat vibrating around his cock, he was big, almost too big for your mouth. Your jaw creaked uncomfortably as you almost reached the base, you could feel his full length tickling your throat as it pulsated. Your nose was buried in his pelvis and you instinctively collected spit with your hand and began to massage his balls, you quickly came up releasing his dick with a pop “pull my hair.” You grabbed his hands and brought them to the base of your skull “use me.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.” He whined, you grinned deviously

“You can’t hurt me, you won’t want to because I’ll make sure you apologise on your knees.” His large calloused hands wrapped around strands of your hair and forced you down to his dick and you began to suck, his moans started up again and you hollowed your cheeks to suck him for all he’s worth. You rocked back and forth on your foot, allowing for your clit to feel reprieve from the pleasurable tingling dancing in your womb. The savoury taste of cum began to dance on your tongue and that’s when you grabbed his wrists and forcibly removed yourself from him

“I was gonna…Where are you going?” He asked deliriously as you stood up, your small palm rubbing over his leaking slit, you pressed a finger to his soft lips

“It’s time for you to become a man, I’m gonna send you to heaven and back Captain virgin.” You took your seat back on his lap, but this time you sat on your knees and allowed his tip to slip back a forth through your velvety folds you keened as you rubbed it against your engorged, sensitive bud “I’m waiting Stevie, beg for me, beg like you’ve never begged before.” You demanded as you peeled off his wife beater and threw it to a miscellaneous corner, you stroked your hands up and down his sculpted chest which glimmered with sweat, you relished in his manly scent.

“Please put it in, please I’m begging you. I need to cum it hurts.” You looked down at his face his eyes were red and glassy and his bottom lip was clasped between his teeth, you massaged his face lovingly as you slipped him inside you slowly. You threw your head back and clasped his broad shoulders with your hands, your mouth going slack as the pleasurable burn of his length radiated through your hips causing your orgasm to build even further. One of Steve’s bulky arms found its way around your waist keeping you from falling, whilst the other encompassed your cheek pushing some of your hair out of your eyes “Feels good, keep going please.” You collected your self and nodded Steve’s whole length sheathing inside you, you nestled your head below his chin

“You okay?” You whispered, you received a nod in response “Good because now I’m going to destroy you.” Steve let out a low chuckle and you began to bounce your hips, slamming yourself up and down relentlessly

“Someone’s going to hear us.” Steve choked, trying to suppress his moans and grunts as your walls fluttered around him.

“Let them hear, I want them to hear me make you mine. I’m going to be your first and last you’re mine, moan for me. Let them hear how good I make you feel.”

“I’m gonna cum” he squeaked, tightening his grip on your waist so hard that it was absolutely going to bruise. You stopped your movements and planted yourself on his lap.

“No, please move. So close, I was gonna cum. Please.” his voice was thick with need, desperate. He whined attempting to move you up and down

“We cum together, you’ll wait for me, my good boy, my good little virgin.” You swiped your thumb sensually over his biceps. His cock twitched inside you “Do you like being my good boy Captain?” You cooed as Steve buried his head into the lapel of your outfit

“Take this off. I want to see you please.” You complied, throwing the scratchy uniform towards where you had thrown Steve’s wife beater. His strong hand briefly glided over your tits giving them a squeeze and teasing the nipples before falling back to their original place.

“Look in the mirror Stevie, look where we’re joined.” You began to move again “touch my clit, you know what that is right?” You chuckled and Steve scoffed, rubbing your clit almost immediately, making you melt against him “Well, you’re better than most men then.” You moaned, moving your hips desperately “Use me Steve!” You beckoned he grabbed your hips with his other hand feverishly moving you up and down his length “gonna cum! Cum with me! Cum my good boy!” You keened grinding on his dick, Steve groaned and whined, his cock throbbed, you gripped at his muscular arms desperately and you were finally pushed over the edge, you bashed your head into Steve’s shoulder, digging your nails into his back leaving red half moons in their wake you felt Steve’s hot release flow into you, he bucked his hips desperately and you could feel it leak out of you into his lap. You ran your hands through his cropped hair and kissed his jaw tenderly “You good Steve?” You questioned massaging his scalp gently

“That was amazing, thank you.” He murmured, stroking your thigh with his warm pal. He turned his head and pushed back your hair kissing your forehead.

“Thank you for letting me be your first.” Your lips meet for the first time in a lazy, yet passionate kiss and you both stare into each other's eyes “let’s lay together for a bit before we get cleaned up.” Steve hummed in agreement, holding you securely to his chest before laying on his back, allowing you to rest your head on his buff chest and listen to his heart that was thumping loudly against his ribs, your eyelids became heavy and you permitted yourself to drift off in the security and heat of the supersoldiers embrace.


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2 years ago

My first time on a rec fic list! To be put next to so many amazing writers is actually making my heart race ily 🫣

- 𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐎𝐊𝐘 𝐒𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐅𝐈𝐂 𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐒 / 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐒 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟐

 - 𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐎𝐊𝐘 𝐒𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐅𝐈𝐂 𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐒 / 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑

𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫/ 𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧/ 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬 𝐢’𝐯𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫. 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠.

𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐬𝐨 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐢𝐧𝐠!!!

𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐫𝐞𝐜 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

 - 𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐎𝐊𝐘 𝐒𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐅𝐈𝐂 𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐒 / 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑

𝐮𝐩𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 • 𝟗𝐭𝐡 𝐨𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟐

 - 𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐎𝐊𝐘 𝐒𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐅𝐈𝐂 𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐒 / 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑

- 𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐎𝐊𝐘 / 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐒

𝘉𝘜𝘊𝘒𝘠 𝘉𝘈𝘙𝘕𝘌𝘚

𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐭 ➵ @gothgirlmahi

𝐚 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞 ➵ @historygeekfics

𝐦𝐢𝐝𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 ➵ @sunshinebuckybarnes

𝐬𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐠𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐧 ➵ @searchforanotherway

𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐧’𝐭 𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐧𝐨 ➵ @p3sephone

𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐲 ➵ @deceitfuldevout

𝐜𝐮𝐭 ➵ @boxofbonesfic

𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐬 ➵ @//straywords

𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐰𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 ➵ @bonkywobble

𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐢𝐫 ➵ @cryptidcasanova

𝐭𝐫𝐲 𝐦𝐞 ➵ @octoberkait

𝐝𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 ➵ @cherienymphe

𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐰𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬 ➵ @earlgreydream

𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐬𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐬 ➵ @metalbuckaroo

𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐬𝐡 ➵ @mrsdarkandyandere7

𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦 ➵ @bucky-barnes-diaries

𝘚𝘛𝘌𝘝𝘌 𝘙𝘖𝘎𝘌𝘙𝘚

𝐡𝐮𝐧𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 ➵ @welcome-to-my-multiverse

𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐡 𝐯𝐚𝐥𝐮𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐨 ➵ @rustytricycle

𝐬𝐭𝐲𝐥𝐞 ➵ @//mrsdarkandyandere7

𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐥𝐲𝐧𝐬 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐩𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐨𝐦 ➵ @hansensgirl

𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐡 ➵ @jsrblue

𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 ➵ @petesey

𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐝𝐞𝐯𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 ➵ @marvelcriminalhoe

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 ➵ @//jsrblue

𝐧𝐨 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐨𝐮𝐭 ➵ @//p3sephone

𝘌𝘋𝘋𝘐𝘌 𝘔𝘜𝘕𝘚𝘖𝘕

𝐰𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 ➵ @coveredinsweetpea

𝐫𝐮𝐧𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 ➵ @mypoisonedvine

𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐨 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 ➵ @inklore

𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐰𝐥 𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐞, 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐞, 𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐞 ➵ @littlest-dark-age

𝐢’𝐥𝐥 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 ➵ @//mypoisonedvine

𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐡𝐮𝐫𝐭 ➵ @barnes-n-nobles

𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 ➵ @ghoulsgraveyard

𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐦𝐞, 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧 ➵ @cressidaclearwood

𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 ➵ @nexusnyx

 - 𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐎𝐊𝐘 𝐒𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐅𝐈𝐂 𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐒 / 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑

- 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐒

𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐛𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐨 ➵ @//metalbuckaroo

𝐛𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲-𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬-𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 ➵ @//bucky-barnes-diaries

𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐨𝐧 ➵ @stuckybarton

𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐛𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬 ➵ @sunshinebuckybarnes

𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐲𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 ➵ @straywords

𝐝𝐝𝐚𝐳𝟑𝐝-𝐚𝐧𝐝-𝐜𝐜𝟎𝐧𝐟𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐝 ➵ @ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused

𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚𝐛𝐞𝐦𝐮𝐫𝐝𝐨𝐜𝐤 ➵ @wannabemurdock

𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐲𝐥𝐮𝐥𝐮𝐬𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 ➵ @holylulusworld

𝐜𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐝𝐫𝐲𝐬𝐝𝐚𝐥𝐞 ➵ @chrisdrysdale

𝐜𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐩𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐞 ➵ @cellophaine

𝐛𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐬𝐩𝐮𝐦𝐩𝐤𝐢𝐧 ➵ @buckspumpkin

𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐡 ➵ @angelltheninth

𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦𝐬𝐡𝐲𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧 ➵ @randomshyperson

𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐥𝐲𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐬𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐟𝐟 ➵ @mostlymarvelsstuff

𝐨𝐡𝐰𝐨𝐰𝐢𝐦𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐞𝐲 ➵ @ohwowimlonley

𝐦𝐚𝐱𝐢𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐬 ➵ @maximotts

𝐠𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐦𝐚𝐡𝐢 ➵ @gothgirlmahi

𝐛𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲 ➵ @buchanansbaby

𝐛𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲𝐬𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐛𝐚𝐭𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐭𝐬 ➵ @buckyscombatboots

𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 ➵ @angrythingstarlight

𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭-𝐚-𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐧-𝐮𝐩-𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐜𝐞 ➵ @just-a-torn-up-masterpiece

 - 𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐎𝐊𝐘 𝐒𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐅𝐈𝐂 𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐒 / 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑

𝐩𝐬 • 𝘪 𝘳𝘦𝘨𝘶𝘭𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘺 𝘶𝘱𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘺 𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘴 𝘢𝘴 𝘪 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘴𝘰 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘴𝘰𝘰𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘪𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦’𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘬𝘦𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵.

𝘢𝘭𝘴𝘰 𝘮𝘺 𝘪𝘯𝘣𝘰𝘹 𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘰𝘱𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘰 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘶𝘴 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘯’𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘺. 𝘰𝘳 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪’𝘮 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘢𝘯 𝘦𝘹𝘵𝘳𝘢 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘱 𝘢𝘵 𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘯 :)

2 years ago

Monstertober Day 2:

My Legacy

Monstertober Day 2:

Pairing: Orc!Bucky x Captured!Reader

Warnings: Non con→Dub con, Dead dove: Do not eat, insults/degrading language, forced breeding, forced impregnation, drastic size difference, belly bulge, blood mention, virgin!reader, hair pulling, cowgirl→mating press, dacryphilia, dark!bucky, threat of violence, aphrodisiac

Nicknames: Tiny, little one, cum slut

Word count: 2.4 k

Monstertober master list

Master list

Tag list🎀

This has been long awaited, I know everyone loves Orc!Bucky, me too honestly. Enjoy.

Monstertober Day 2:

A colossal, herculean man loomed over you, he was built from slabs of muscles that shifted under his thick layers of green skin. His bulging forearms, decorated with tribal tattoos, half concealed by a pair of tanned leather bracers, lined with fur; the designs carved into the leather matched his ornate iron pauldrons, slightly covered by the reddish-brown pelt of a direwolf, and the only thing covering his lower half was a loin cloth attached to a metal belt adorned with his tribe’s insignia. His eyes narrowed in a scowl, but despite this you could see his golden eyes, with flecks of amber and a vertical slit for a pupil—reminiscent of a cat's eyes. They were trained on you, hunched between the cart and barrels “How unfortunate Tiny. Should have hid better than that.” His meaniscing tone sends a ripple of goosebumps across your skin, a scream bubbles up to your throat and dies there as he reaches out for you. You scramble away from his enormous juniper hand, the lighter skin of his palm filling your vision before he opts for grabbing you by the waist and pulling you out “Gods above I can smell chu ‘ittle one. You’re terrified out your tiny little brain, but you're still so wet for me. If you play nice, I won’t have to hurt chu.” You consider chomping down on the web of skin connecting his thumb and forefinger, but Orcs are known for their tough skin, you decide not to. You stare up at the monster before you through your long lashes, tears streaming down your cheeks “Good, Tiny human. My true name is too complicated for your kind to understand or pronounce, so you can call me Bucky. I am War chief of this clan of Orcs, it will do you well to listen or I’ll pass you to the others. They ain’t too kind to little tiny girls like chu.” He begins to walk with you, pushing you to his beefy chest like a mother holding a baby close, your hands grab for purchase at the direwolf pelt strung across his shoulders; the feeling of the fur in your hands and the familiar scent brings you solace as he carries you over to a large group of orcs, one with blonde hair turns towards Bucky smiling with his tusks on full display, you cower at the sight—you know exactly what those tusks can do, you’ve watched them tear people like parchment “Steve, I’m going to head back to camp with a small group. You stay here. Kill any survivors, pillage whatever’s left, return by nightfall.” The Orc named Steve nods and replies in a strange serious of grunts, to which Bucky also replies in the same manner. They he’s walking again, he stops infront of an orcish warhorse—specially breed to be taller and stronger than normal horses to with stand the sheer size of the orcs— then he climbs on with you held in one arm

“Where are we going?” You whisper near his ear

“To your new home ‘ittle one.”

Monstertober Day 2:

The ride back to the camp isn’t a long one, you slept for most of it as your adrenaline finally died down or you’d fallen into a state of shock. At this point you had no idea. When you awoke you’d arrived at what he called ‘your new home’ There were countless Orcs, they barely used any of their troops to conquer your village. The feeling of hopelessness rose in you once again.

“‘ere we are, Pet. Home sweet home.” He got off the horse and handed the reins off to another orc to be taken care of. He spoke to the orc bostriously with enthusiasm, smiling so wide you thought one of his tusks would like your eye out. Then he strode off decisively through the thicket of tents. He was taking you home, to his home. Not yours. He burnt yours down, he murdered your family. You hated the fact that seeing him smile and talking so happily, despite you being unable to understand what he was saying, made you happy. His attitude was contagious.

You approached a tent that was much larger than the others, it was also dyed a faded black compared to the other plain tents. It had two lit torches on each side of the pegs keeping it up and on the tent door was the same insignia that was on his belt, but this was painted in red—the colour of blood which he was so accustomed to spilling. You had to hate him, you needed to hate him.

He pushed aside the cloth entrance revealing a very spacious tent decorated in a sporadic manner with a large table that had a map splayed on its surface, your eyes shot down to all the red markers on it. One was on your village. They had planned this and nobody knew, fresh tears welled up in your eyes and you bit your wobbling lip, but a whimper still slipped. “This is your new home princess,” he wiped the tears from your eyes with one of his thick green fingers “so don’t cry anymore. It’s all gonna be okay. If you listen, everything will be fine. Now,” he placed you on the ground and walked over to a pile of things in the corner. He turned to face you before pulling out a shotel from behind him, but this shotel was the largest one you’d ever seen; the blade was unbelievably sharp, it was obvious that he’d spent hours sharpening, cleaning and customising it. Your legs collapsed beneath you as he pointed the curved blade at you, the point resting below your chin. Tears leaked from your eyes like a flowing river, you let out a whine as he hoovered it so close to your skin that you could feel the coolness of the blade “Move and I’ll cleave your skull in half. Understood?” Your vision shook as you meet his steely glare

“Y-yes.” You blubbered, he removed the blade and pulled out a chair from the long oaken table. The chair was much larger than a normal chair, obviously hand made for orcs by orcs—no scratch that, handmade for him. The chair was even bigger than all the others, it was made for Bucky, it was made for the war chief who towered above even other orcs. He plopped down in it, the twine holding it together creaking under his substantial weight, and opened his legs slightly clapping his massive bejeweled green hands down on his muscular bulging thighs.

“Come ‘ere little one. Sit on my lap.” He commanded, spinning the shotel on its blade on the hard packed dirt next to him. When you sat frozen, on the floor, he raised the blade towards you “I know you ain’t deaf. I don’t like repeatin’ myself.” You pressed your hands either side of your thighs and pushed yourself to your feet, your legs shook as you stumbled over. He extended out a massive green hand, you took it noting how your hand could only wrap around two of his fingers. Your line of sight travelled down to his dick. It was huge. Straining against the thin fabric of his loincloth. Straining so much that you could see all its features; dark green with lighter sections of skin, ribbed, with a thick gold ring pierced through the thin skin just under the head. There was no way he’d fit.

He helped you climb onto him, practically pulling you up by your arm which was dwarfed in his grasp. You straddled his lap, sat right in front of his bulging cock. Once you were in place he undid the opulent belt keeping the loin cloth in place and pulled. With one swift movement the belt and the loin cloth were both removed and thrown to the ground. His member was now on full display; girthy, long and definitely not able to fit inside you. You paled at the sight of it throbbing and leaking “It won’t fit!” You cried, attempting to run. He grabbed your arm just before you fel to the ground and pulled you back in place. You struggled against him, floundering like a fish drowning on land “Please! Anything else! You’re gonna kill me!” His hand clasped around your face as he reached back with his free arm and came back with a hefty glass bottle filled with a shimmering clear liquid.

“Breath, Pet. I ain’t expecting it to fit in you without a little help, little one.” He uncorked it with one hand and finally removed his hand from your mouth, you relished in the woodsy scent. He poured a generous amount on his hand “Take yer clothes off. Or I’ll rip ‘em off.” He ordered sternly, you met his gaze. His cat eye pupils had blown wide, filled with lust and need. You obliged, stripping off your dirty, torn clothes that smelt heavily of smoke. You swallowed your vomit as you recollected the state of your village.

His huge green hand began slathering the liquid on your pussy, it was warm. The heat coming off of the orc had heated it in such a short period of time, your eyes met his cock again. The heat of it was slightly darker green with a bluish cast, his balls were heavy and full. Your mouth was almost watering. You were pulled from you from your blatant ogling from the sting of a finger being inserted inside you. You yelped, grabbing at his thick wrist with your small hands “It hurts!” You yowled, beating at his calloused palm with your fist, he began moving his finger and the pain slowly melted into pleasure. You hummed at the heat filling your belly “Mhmn.”

“You’re a virgin aren’t you little one, there’s blood.” He cooed, slipping another finger. Which your quivering hole gladly took. You nodded slowly, whimpering as he stretched you, scissoring his fingers “Were gonna fix that. The Oil is enchanted, it should help you be able to take me, it’s also an aphrodisiac.” His words swam in your mind becoming almost meaningless as you pushed back on his fingers until you met his rings at the base of his thick, lengthy fingers.

Suddenly he pulled his fingers out, you whimpered at the loss humping his thigh for friction. You needed more. You wanted Bucky in you “Buck. Want you in me.” You mewl, grinding your sensitive bud down on the thick skin of his thigh

“Gladly.” He lifts you as if you weigh nothing and holds you above his dick, smiling coyly at your lopped sided grin and hazy eyes before slamming you down on his fat cock. The pain momentarily breaks your gaze but then the overwhelming feeling of his humongous prick filling your insides. Your hands travel to the bulge in your stomach, running your hands over it. Marvelling at it as he thrusts in and out. The meaty slaps of Bucky bouncing you roughly up and down on his lap filled the tent, more likely than not the sound was spilling outside. You didn’t care, right now you didn’t have the liberty to think much at all with his fat cock muddling up your insides. Your tongue fell dumbly out your mouth as you dribbled mumbling and moaning with every harsh thrust “That’s it, Pet, go dumb on my massive Orc cock. Never gonna want a human after this, they can’t fill you up like an orc. How pathetic. You deserve an Orcs cock to bring you this. Much. Pleasure.” He punctuated his words with his thrusts, bashing your cervix each time. You threw your head back in a silent wail, digging your nails into his large pecs as you relished in the orgasm that wracked your body. Constricted his cock, drawing a deep, primal grunt from his core “Yes! Come! Come as many times as you want pet, soak my cock in your juices my little cockslut. Gonna get you pregnant, gonna paint you fucking tight little slut hole with my seed. Gonna watch you swell with my children. Take it.” He groaned slamming into you with a new found vigour, picking you up as he stood.

You barely even registered him laying you on the bed until he pushed back your knees, resting them near your ears. You thought it impossible but he dick managed to nestle itself even further inside of you. An electric shock ran through your body as you came again, the pleasure being tears to your eyes as his thrust became more erratic, more powerful. His face loomed above yours staring intensely into your eyes “Gonna make you a mother, Tiny. You want to be the mother of my children? You want to grow with my child? You want to birth My Legacy?” He asked, “Answer me.” He demanded pounded into your cunt, his balls smacking against your ass, twitching, as he pushed down on your bent knees.

“Yes! Make me a mommy!” You cried, squeezing around him as he came inside you, he continued to thrust as he shot ropes and ropes of cum into you. Your stomach swelling with the sheer amount of spend shooting from his spasming tip.

“Ah feels so fucking good. Look at you, your body can barely contain my cum.” He chuckled, huffing, sweat glistening on his forehead as he littered your reddened face, ruined with tears and spit with passionate open mouth kisses.

“Felt good, wanna nap.” You yawned, your body tremouring from the overstimulation, your clit puffy and sensitive as his pelvis pressed into you enrolling you completely, blocking out almost all the light in the tent.

A hearty chuckle emerges from him, the sound fills your ears making more slick drip from your cunt onto his cock still buried in your overflowing pussy “Oh, we ain’t done yet, Pet. Gotta make sure you’re nice and pregnant, gonna fuck ya till I make ya look pregnant; so everyone knows who you belong to, that I have claimed you and that they can never touch you. ‘Cause you’re gonna have my babies, I’ll keep you filled and wanton on my cock ‘cause we Orcs mate for life after all, Tiny, and I’ve chosen you to be the bearer of My legacy.”

Monstertober Day 2:

Tag list: @alina02 @winterslove1917 @unabashed-lover-of-fictional-men @petesey @getwellsoontana @feyfantome @alexxavicry @ashenc-blog @floral-recs @renster05 @redbloodedgurl @teambarnes72 @shrekwreck @sweetwrathoflilith @cjand10 @bunnyscraft @flamefoxxrecs @addie5587483


Tags
2 years ago

hope you’re doing alright, thinking of u 💗

Whichever one of you sweethearts sent this, Thank you! I’m doing just fine, I know I’ve been gone for almost 2 months; I just have to say, PhD work kicked my ass so hard.

I’m so thankful you checked in on me! But I’m back, for now. I have a series I’ve been working on that will be released soon; then I’ll be working on some Monstertober continuations, since quite a lot of people have requested continuation for The Big Bad Wolf, Legacy and Shrine Built of Lies

And if I have time, hopefully, there will be a special, festive fic released just before Christmas🎄

Hope You’re Doing Alright, Thinking Of U 💗

Tags
2 years ago

Not you calling Lloyd’s pornstache a furry little monster! 🤣 I almost cried, this actually made my day.😂

Not You Calling Lloyd’s Pornstache A Furry Little Monster! 🤣 I Almost Cried, This Actually Made

🎃Lloyd x Reader: Pumpkin carving Drabble🎃

🎃Lloyd X Reader: Pumpkin Carving Drabble🎃

Warnings: knife play, mostly fluff, reader has sensitive ears, hand kink, scent kink, reader being a brat, marking/ hickeys/ biting, implied smut

Nicknames: Pumpkin

A/N: A spooky little treat before the next Monstertober day

༻𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐓𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐌𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫༺

🎃Lloyd X Reader: Pumpkin Carving Drabble🎃

“How did I let you convince me to do this again, Pumkin?” Lloyd questioned in a huff, he stood in the doorway wearing his tight black turtleneck, which was your favourite, with the sleeves rolled up to reveal his hairy, bulky arms, his vein rippling out of his skin like lightning bolts trailing down to his calloused hands.

“I promised you a reward afterwards.” You giggled passing him a kitchen knife, which he began chucking up and down “Lloyd that’s dangerous.” You warned, he smiled at the concerned look on your face

“I know what I’m doing, Pumpkin.” He threw it up in the air one more time, bumping the handle with his elbow as it fell, catching it with his hand and pointing it towards his pumpkin “You’ve got everything set out so nicely, like a little housewife.” He cooed, pulling you close and placing a kiss on your forehead.

You felt heat rise to your cheeks at his comment. You, a housewife…for him. You liked the idea, you couldn’t deny that; but the way he said, it like his words held so much more meaning behind them. You always loved when he complimented you, it made you feel so special. Nothing else in the world mattered except what Lloyd thought, what Lloyd said—he’d made you completely reliant on him. “L-Let’s get started…That pumpkins yours and this one's mine.” You cursed yourself for stuttering, Lloyd smirked at your brushing his large hand across your forearm before pulling his pumpkin closer to him on the newspaper. You followed suit, picking up your knife and beginning to cut a circle around the stem of the pumpkin—you had much more difficulty than Lloyd as tried to cut through the tough skin of the pumpkin.

“Are you sure you’re allowed to do this?”

“Of course I am! I know how to use a knife, Lloyd. I'm not a child. And then we can make pumpkin bread after this.” You huffed turning away from him and continuing to cut into the pumpkin.

Lloyd grabbed your chin turning you towards him “No, I mean because you’re a pumpkin; so this is murder and cannibalism. I never knew you were so devious, Pumpkin.” You opened your mouth to reply but no words left your mouth, you just stared at him with your mouth hanging open. He let you go and resumed carving his pumpkin, you closed your mouth and returned your own pumpkin, pulling the center out before you began digging out the seeds.

Your gaze drifted over to Lloyd as he held onto the pumpkin with one of his hands, the muscles shifting under his skin as he squeezed the skin of the pumpkin. The golden ring on his pinky finger glimmering in the light catching your attention briefly as you remembered the time he slipped it on to each one of your fingers trying to get it fit “it only fits your thumb, Pumpkin, you’re so tiny compared to me…Don’t worry I'll get you a ring just like this one so we can match.” He did get you a ring to match, it was perfectly tailored to the size of your pinky. Your eyes travelled up his arms, watching as his biceps tensed whilst he used a spoon to scoop out some of the pumpkins innards. You had to look away to stop yourself from drooling, Lloyd knew you were watching. He was taking his time on purpose, squeezing the firm outside of the pumpkin and intermittently letting out a soft grunt to toy with you. He loved to see the way you practically salivated over him—he always knew you adored his hands, his scent, his eyes, his body. He knew The parts you liked about him so he abused your weaknesses just to be able to watch you stumble over your words; just last week he caught you spraying some of his new cologne on one of his hoodies you’d stolen, so he instantly bought more of it. Lloyd broke the silence “I’m all up in this pumpkin's guts. Kinda like I was last night with you-“ You pout grabbing some of the mashed up pumpkin and throwing it at him “Hey! No throwing the pumpkin. God, it smells so bad.” His face contorts into disgust as he wipes it off his black turtleneck grimacing at the texture and wetness as he throws it on to the newspaper-clad counter.

You giggle, letting a devious smile spread across your lips “Then don’t be such a perv, we’re meant to be doing a wholesome activity for once.” You cross your arms and arch an eyebrow at him.

“There’s nothing wholesome about the way you were looking at my hands, Pumpkin, don’t think I didn’t see you.” Your face heats up in embarrassment and without thinking you smear your pumpkin covered hands across his stupid attractive face “Oh that’s it!” Lloyd picked up the knife he’d been using to carve the pumpkin and hovers it underneath your chin, gently gliding the blade against the delicate soft skin of your throat, the juice of the pumpkin on the knife leaving a sticky trail “I’ve played nice for long enough, now it’s time to have fun. You like that idea don’t you, Pumpkin? Your thighs are clenching. I decided to be nice and play along with your desire to carve pumpkins, and you return the favour by being a brat.” He leans down to your ear, his hot breath fanning at the sensitive skin “Good thing I like it when you’re a brat.” He whispers, rubbing the bristles of his moustache against the shell of your ear, relishing in the whine that escapes from your lips as he sucks on your earlobe. He knows it’s sensitive, he’s teasing you. You wipe your hands on the tea towel you’d set out and then rest your now clean hands on his shoulders for support as he continues to attack your sensitive ears. Lloyd moves down from your ear to your neck, licking a stripe from your jaw to clavicle. He settled at your collar bone, suckling at the thin skin and running it through his teeth. You buried your fingers in his cropped hair, fiddling with the styled top till strands of his hair were falling onto his forehead in curls.

You rub your thighs together, relishing in the friction, as he drags the knife down your neck to your torso, pressing harder so you can feel the blade through the crew neck of his that you were wearing. He drew crescents beneath reach of your breast before travelling further down. Lloyd pressed hot opened mouth kisses to your throat as he bunched the sweater at your hips “Only panties? How naughty.” Lloyd purred, sucking a hickey into your neck.

He ran the cool blade of the knife along your thigh, bringing it ever so close to the apex of your hips tracing your folds with the blunt side of the blade before running it back up your torso, across your chest and back to your neck; outlining your collar bones then your trachea and settling just below your jaw. He stared down at you, you swore those eyes could see into the depth of your soul. You followed the slate outer ring that faded into a bright blue—one glance into those eyes made any bad day better. His pink lips curved into a smile and he pulled the knife away from your throat, raising the blade in the air threateningly.

Lloyd stabbed the knife into his pumpkin and then picked you up, your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist and your arms around his neck. He gave you a quick kiss “We’ll finish carving later, I want my reward now.” He kissed you again, but this time he deepened it; slipping his tongue into your mouth intertwining it with yours before catching your bottom lip with his teeth and tugging at it “What do you say, Pumpkin? Want me to be all up in your guts?”

‘I’d like that.” You titter as he strides with you up the stairs towards the bedroom. Pumpkin carving will have to wait after all.

🎃Lloyd X Reader: Pumpkin Carving Drabble🎃

Tag list: @cevansgurl @bval-1 @feyfantome @alexxavicry @ashenc-blog @floral-recs @flamefoxxrecs @sojuxxi @adoreyouusugar @gryffindorqueensworld @aerangi @itwillgetbetter @taramaria

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buckyscombatboots - 𝐾𝑖𝑛𝑘𝑦 𝑀𝑖𝑛𝑑 𝑃𝑎𝑙𝑎𝑐𝑒
𝐾𝑖𝑛𝑘𝑦 𝑀𝑖𝑛𝑑 𝑃𝑎𝑙𝑎𝑐𝑒

Mentally I’m pulling Bucky’s hair whilst being pounded into the mattress| Nia | She/Her | Bi | Multifandom | reqs open | 18+ Minor DNI |

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