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ambling-rambling · 1 year
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Hey pals!
I have a bunch of half written drafts and a couple requests from the mini celebration. I haven't forgotten and I will get to them.
The kids and I have been passing whatever seasonal cold and flu bug is going around back and forth between us for approximately 1 (one) eternity now which has left 0 brain space for making words go.
Knock on wood, the kids seem to be on the upswing of it at long last so hopefully we'll be back to normal soon and I'll be able to get brain space to pump some of these drafts out.
I appreciate y'all. I've honestly been blown away by how many likes, reblogs and fresh follows are rolling in even though I haven't been the most active. Y'all the real MVPs and I appreciate each and every one of you.
Requests are still open and definitely check out the Mini Celebration here. Still definitely taking requests from that and hoping I'll be back in tip top shape to start getting to them after Thanksgiving.
Much love to you guys!
Xoxo,
Pix 😘😘
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ambling-rambling · 1 year
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A mini celebration!! 🎉🎉
I know a hundred followers isn't really that many but it's more than I expected so I'm excited about it! And I wanted to do a little something to celebrate!
Basically, I've put together a list of eras of Bucky, smut elements and fluff elements that I'm keen to write. Y'all can submit an era, a smut or fluff element, or one of each if you like fluffy smut... Or smutty fluff 😝
Submissions can be anonymous or not. Might take me a while depending on how many I get and my schedule but I anticipate being able to do all of them. I'll post if this ends up not being the case. Feel free to suggest other elements if you have ideas too! I'm always open for expanding. So! Without further ado, mix and match your own adventure.
Eras
'40s pre-war Bucky
WWII Bucky
HYDRA-captured Bucky
HYDRA-controlled Winter Soldier
Escaped Winter Soldier
Wakanda deprogramming Bucky
TFATWS Bucky
Smut
Phone sex
Overstimulation
Orgasm control/denial
Somnophilia
Mutual masturbation
First time Bucky
First time reader
Bondage
Praise kink
Mild degradation kink
Fluff
Hurt Bucky
Hurt Reader
Nightmare comfort
Insecure Bucky
Insecure reader
Captured reader/Bucky to the rescue
Shaking off the winter soldier programming
Happy date
Date gone awry
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ambling-rambling · 1 year
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Ahhh I'm so glad you liked it 😍😍😍
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Wanna Take Care of You
Pairing: soft!Bucky x f!reader
Summary: Bucky doesn't always think about sex when he comes home feeling rough, but you have the perfect solution to keep you both satisfied.
Content Warning: explicit smut. oral (m receiving). p in v unprotected sex. somnophilia. cockwarming. pet names (babe/baby; love/lover mostly)
Part Two here
It's always a little hard to know how Bucky's going to feel when he comes home from a mission. Sometimes he's stressed, frustrated, in need of a release and you're only too happy to give it to him. Sometimes he's so soft, so wrecked it seems the slightest breeze will blow him over, and you're happy to be his soft place to land.
It's easy to pull him into the shower, help him wash the mission off his skin, hands smoothing over scrapes and bruises that are already healing, at least outwardly. Sometimes you think it's a disservice, the swiftness with which his body knits itself back together; nobody can see the way it scars him, no physical reminder that he's been beat up, that he should be handled with care.
Even once he's fallen asleep, wrapped up in you, his face buried in your shoulder, he's restless. He never thinks about sex when he comes home this way, but his body wants what it wants, especially when he's been gone a few days.
Tonight is no different. You're still awake, hands smoothing absently through his hair, thinking about what little he told you about this latest mission before he fell asleep, when you feel him begin to shift, his little sighs muffled against your shirt. You hum softly, hand smoothing down his back, trying to soothe him back to sleep.
Instead he moans quietly, rocking toward your thigh as he begins to stiffen, rolling his hips forward. You already know you won't be able to wake him, not for any lack of trying. He sleeps deep, the only place he can sleep deep, because he feels safe here. You'd made a gentle suggestion before he left this time. You hate how restless it makes him, worried about the lack of quality sleep. Super serum or not, his body needs what it needs, and you think you have just the solution.
"Shhh, baby," you murmur, hand still rubbing his back, but this time you let your hand slide lower, under the waistband of his boxer briefs, cupping his ass and pulling him toward you the next time his hips rock forward, dragging his hardened cock more firmly against your thigh.
The sensation makes him moan, eyelids fluttering, and you think he might wake, but he doesn't, eyes remaining resolutely closed even as his hips continue to move, seeking friction.
You shift back a little, creating enough space so you can slide your hand to the front of his hip, rubbing gently in the spot that always makes him jerk. "Shhh, baby, I'm gonna take care of that for you," you whisper, propping yourself up to kiss his stubbly cheek.
"Can you roll over for me, love?" you murmur in his ear, extracting your hand so you can give his shoulder a gentle push, helping him over onto his back. You prop yourself up on one elbow, so that you can see his face as you palm him over his underwear. Your eyes are glued to him, fascinated by the way his features twist at your touch, even in sleep. His lips turn into a pout as his hips rut up, seeking more contact.
"Please?" he whines, and the sound of his voice, gravely and deep with sleep, has you instantly wet.
"Mm, of course, lover. I'm gonna take care of you," you promise. You sit up so that you can pull at his underwear enough to free his length from the confines of the fabric. The sight of him makes you sigh. So needy. So hot.
You lean down to kiss his hip, making him jerk, as you lightly rub the pad of one finger against the tip of his cock, already leaking with precum. You turn your head and lick your way up the vein on the underside of his member, delighting in the way it twitches, even as Bucky's hips lift and he lets out a needy moan. You comply with the unspoken request, swirling your tongue around the tip, taking him in slowly.
With one hand braced on his hip, you use the other to work what you're not taking in your mouth. His hand flutters, lifting off the sheets as he moans your name softly. You surface to smile up at him, letting your hand work slowly up and down as you examine his face. Nope, still asleep, even with his hips rutting into your touch, and something about that has you absolutely gushing. You can feel your own arousal dripping down the inside of your thighs, and you nibble at your lower lip, thoughtfully.
He whines again, and you comply, letting your mouth slide down with a little more urgency, until he's pressed against the back of your throat and your eyes are watering. You're surprised when his hips jerk up, his cock forcing down your throat in a way he's never done whilst awake, making you gag, hard. You suck as you draw back, working him again with your hand as he shifts and moans from your ministrations.
You sit up, pushing your own ruined panties down your legs and tossing them aside. Your stomach is tight, your cunt throbbing with wanting as you straddle him, knees against his hips, using your hand to guide him into place. You rut your hips, letting his weeping tip tease against your entrance. You both moan as you begin to sink down, and he gasps at the way your walls grip him, drawing him in.
For the first time, Bucky's eyes open, a noise of confusion dying on his tongue as you reach forward to trace his lower lip with your thumb. "Shhh, baby, it's just me. Gonna take care of you, okay? Just like we talked about."
His eyes are already fluttering half closed. "You always do, y/n," he mumbles, his hands coming to rest on your thighs. He sucks in a deep breath as you begin to roll your hips forward and back. You both groan at the sensation, and you tilt your head back, bracing your hands on his stomach so you can lift and drop, pulling him in deep enough to make you gasp.
Bucky's hands drift around, cradling your ass, helping you rise. When you look, his eyes are still closed, and you can't tell if he's waking up or not. It doesn't matter.
You can feel from his throbbing cock and the way his thighs are trembling beneath you that he's close, and you reach down, rubbing roughly at your clit. The sensation makes your hips jerk, losing your rhythm, and beneath you Bucky groans. His grip on your hips is bruising, but it feels so good. He's always careful with you, mindful of his own strength, and the idea that you might have a reminder tomorrow has you spasming.
"C'mon, baby, cum for me," you whine.
That does it, Bucky's head grinding back into the pillow as he cums. The sensation of his cock, throbbing and wet, has you shattering, your own orgasm ripping through you, and you grind against him until you're sure you're both spent.
With a sigh, you sink down, body splayed against his chest. Your walls flutter around his twitching cock, periodic pulses sending subtle little rivulets of pleasure through your aching core.
After a while, when Bucky's breathing has evened out to light snores, you begin to sit up. A muffled sound of complaint rumbles from his throat. "Stay," he mumbles, arms wrapping around you, dragging you back down against his chest.
So you do, falling asleep with your head pillowed on Bucky's shoulder, filled with him.
And Bucky doesn't so much as shift beneath you the rest of the night.
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ambling-rambling · 1 year
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Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader
C/W: honestly not much. Angst. Drunk reader. Softest of fluff
I started out intending to write drunk sex but ya sad bish needed something soft instead so have the first time Bucky Barnes hears I love you and the way it wrecks him.
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Don't Leave Me
The two of you didn't actually fight that often, surprising as that was to some people. You supposed you couldn't blame them, what with the ex-Winter Soldier's perpetual frown and surly demeanor.
You knew better, though. He held people at arms length for a million different reasons, each as valid as the next, but the truth was, his core was all marshmallow fluff, soft and squishy.
In the six months that you'd been an official couple, you could count on one hand the number of times you'd so much as bickered. But this? This was different. A genuine fight, where you couldn't agree and neither was willing to compromise.
It was bad enough, his being gone on missions all the time, worrying about whether he'd come home at all, and what state he'd be in when he did. And now he was talking about some sabbatical back to Europe, trying to chase down memories and make some amends clear on the other side of the planet, indefinitely.
And it sure sounded like he didn't want you to come. Sure, his excuse had been that he didn't want to drag you away from your life, make you uproot everything. Part of you knew he didn't feel worthy of that kind of devotion, that he couldn't truly comprehend that he was your everything now.
But if still felt an awful lot like a rejection, and that stung.
Maybe that was why you'd gotten so drunk, just trying to ease the tightness in your chest, drown the ache in your soul with the burn of alcohol. It would have been bad enough on its own, but the fact that it was your first legitimate fight just made it that much worse.
So you'd gotten a little carried away, and Jaeger sure as shit did have a way of creeping up on you. You'd stumbled your way into the ladies' where you now sagged against a sink, though you'd forgotten to turn the water on.
"Honey, are you alright?" a voice startled you, and you spun, or tried to. You barely managed to keep yourself upright by clinging to the edge of the sink.
"Uhhhh..." Were you? Alright? What did that even mean? You weren't dying, but you felt like you were shattering into a million pieces. Surely that was just the alcohol talking, making everything extra dramatic. "No? " It came out a question, and the woman tutted softly. She was probably a little older than you, beautiful, and you found yourself half lost in the liquid brown of her eyes, hooded in deep gold eyeshadow, and the dreadlocks that framed her face.
"Can I call someone for you, honey?" she asked.
Call someone? Shit what a great idea! "Uhhh, my boyfriend," you said with a nod. "Er, well," you hedged, as the memories came flooding back in. "I think. We hadda fight." The words were slurred, and your new friend's eyes were sympathetic.
"Are you safe with him?"
Even drunk, you immediately understood the implications of what she was asking. "YES." Your response was so emphatic that she laughed a little. "We never fight like this," you said, pouting now, staring down at the toe of your tennis shoe. "Ever," you added, uncertain why you felt the need to add so much emphasis.
"Well, honey, why don't I call him for you? If he's got any brains in his head, he's probably missin' you just as much as you're missin' him."
You nodded, because Bucky definitely had brains, he was so smart, and beautiful and you just wanted to be with him always. Why did he have to make everything so fucking difficult?
Without really making a conscious decision, you unlocked your phone, open to your text conversation with Bucky. You hadn't even realized you had a slew of texts from him. It ran a course from appeasing,
I'm sorry, I just don't know what to tell you...
to irritated ,
Really? You're blowing me off?
to worried,
Okay well I deserve it. We don't have to talk but can you just answer so I know you're okay?
Y/n. Please. I'm really getting worried. I just wanna know you're alright.
You felt a little bad. You hadn't been blowing him off intentionally, you just hadn't been paying attention to your phone.
Your friend, god you really needed to ask her name, hit the dial button. Muffled through the speaker, you could nonetheless hear Bucky answer before the second ring, practically shouting your name.
"Sorry, my name's Meredith, but I've got y/n right here. She's fine, just pretty drunk. You should probably come pick her up."
There wasn't any hesitation in his promise to be there in a few minutes.
Meredith handed your phone back to you, and you tucked it away in your pocket, feeling a little guilty. You tried to stand up straight, annoyed with the way the world tilted and swayed under your feet.
"Easy there, honey. Let's go get you some water before your fella gets here."
You nod, because that seemed like a good idea. You clung to Meredith's arm as the two of you wound through the bar and the bartender handed you a glass of water. You sipped it carefully, uncertain if even that would settle. You had definitely never been this drunk before, and now that it was setting in you felt a little childish and stupid.
You heard your name and half turned. The sight of Bucky there, beautiful as ever in that leather jacket and his gloves, made you want to weep, and you sniffled.
"I was worried about you, doll," Bucky said gently, brushing one leather-clad thumb along your cheek bone.
You wanted to be mad at him, but the genuine concern in those blue eyes and the way he was hanging back, not pushing you, just made you want to fall into him.
"I'm sorry," you mumbled, not looking at him. "I wasn't tryna make y'worry." The words came out slurred and you felt petulant and nauseous and why was everything such a mess?
"You good now?" Meredith asked, drawing your gaze. You nodded. "Yeah, I'm okay," you said.
"Thank you," Bucky said softly, extending a hand to Meredith. "Genuinely. I'm glad she found you and not..." he trailed off with a helpless shrug, and it wasn't a leap to know he'd been thinking about all the creeps out there who'd love to take advantage of a drunk and vulnerable woman.
"Nothin' to thank me for. Us girls gotta stick together," Meredith said with a grin. She gave your hand a little squeeze, and then disappeared into the crowd.
Bucky sighed, turning to look at you again, ducking his head to try and catch your eye. "C'mon doll, you still so mad you can't even look at me?" he asked, with a little note of frustration creeping into his tone.
You shook your head. "Not that. I just feel...Dumb." Suddenly you were crying and you couldn't even really articulate why. Bucky looked panicked, jerking the glove off his right hand to cradle your face, applying pressure to encourage you to look up without forcing you.
"What? Why? You're not dumb, y/n..." Bucky looked perplexed, worried still as you sniffled again, scrubbing at your leaking eyes.
"You still w-want me right?" The words came out slurred and choked, and you were suddenly clinging to him, clutching at his biceps. The world was unsteady under you and you just wanted to be in bed, wrapped up with him, safe and wanted.
Bucky looked genuinely shocked. "What...y/n, of course I do. You're all I want. Why would you think otherwise?"
He was so confused you almost laughed. It was so obvious to you.
"But you d-don't want me to come to Europe with you," you pointed out, your voice a drunken whine.
"I don't...y/n, I don't want to go without you," you could see he was struggling to articulate himself, the way words so often came as a fight, caught up in his head. "I just don't feel like I can ask you to walk away from your life..."
"You're not asking! I'm offering!" you interrupted, your voice a little too high, a little too loud, even to your own ears.
Bucky looked... Inexplicably sad. He stepped a little closer, so his body was pressed to yours, bare hand cradling your cheek. "I ain't worth it, doll. And I don't want you to be an ocean away from home and not another friend in sight when you figure that out." .
You felt like you were choking. Oh, or maybe that was just the alcohol in your stomach revolting. Bucky must have read the expression on your face, because he wrapped an arm around your waist, mostly carrying you toward the door. "C'mon, let's get outside," he said.
The cold air hit you like an Arctic front, had goosebumps prickling all over your skin and a shiver running up your spine. But it served to still the boiling mess in your stomach. You knew you were drunk, that he'd probably convince himself it was just the alcohol, but you had to try.
"Please baby," you whined, clutching at him. "I don't wanna be here without you. I just wanna be with you , always. You are worth it to me." Your voice cracked when you begged "don't leave me here."
"I'm not leaving you anywhere, doll. Let's go home," he murmured. You nodded, slumping into Bucky's arms, content to let him carry you to the car.
You didn't even remember getting home, just waking up in bed, a little panicked, launching yourself toward the bathroom, your stomach revolting against the ill treatment of the night before. Bucky was there within moments, sweeping your hair back out of your face, palm smoothing down your back.
You slumped to the floor when your stomach finally settled, cool tile heavenly against your heated skin. "I'm sorry," you mumbled.
"For what?" Bucky asked, brow furrowed in confusion.
"Getting so trashed that you had to come get me. Being so extra and now...this," your lip curled in distaste as you waved a hand at the porcelain throne.
Bucky 's lips quirked in that ghost of a smile that was his most common expression of pleasure or amusement. "That's nothin' to apologize for, doll," he said dismissively.
"Shower with me?" you asked, and Bucky nodded, starting the water before helping you to your feet. You shucked out of your clothes and ducked into the shower with a low groan of relief, only too eager to wash the night off your skin. Bucky followed you in, and his hands skimmed tenderly across your body, helping you rinse off, his nose nuzzled into the crook of your neck.
You lingered like that, for too long, really. It would have been easy, so easy, to just stay like that, pretend nothing had happened, but you couldn't.
"Bucky?" you whispered, voice rough and more than a little hesitant.
"Yeah, doll?" he asked, without lifting his head, voice muffled against your skin.
"I...I meant what I said last night. I know I was drunk, but it was still the truth. I don't... I don't wanna be here without you. I don't care where you're going, if it's anywhere even sort of long term, I wanna go. I'll go anywhere Buck, just .. please don't leave me here. Don't go without me."
He drew back, cradling your face, his expression a study in internal wars, looking both miserable and infatuated. "I just don't want you bored over there, by yourself..."
"I wouldn't be by myself," you interrupted. "I'd be with you and that's all I want."
You could practically see that self deprecating smile even before it painted his lips. "That's not all you want, doll," Bucky argued, and you felt yourself huff out an irritated breath. "You have a job that you really love and friends you love going out with, not to mention the cat..."
You sighed. "All those things will be here whenever you've done what you need to. Or I'll meet new people and make new friends. People do it all the time, Buck. Mallory would take Alpine for a while if I asked her."
Whatever argument he was about to pop off with now, you silenced it, pressing a finger to his lips. "Stop telling me what I want or don't want, Buck. I just want you. I love you."
You watched the emotions play across his face like he was a projection onto a movie screen. Incomprehension, and then disbelief, giving way to awe, and then something so, so soft it had his eyes welling up with tears.
He was searching your face, as if trying to sniff out a lie, and then abruptly, his gaze jerked down, swallowing hard. You'd been together a while, slept together, built routines that were comfortable, that he adored, but neither of you had ever broached the "l" word and he hadn't let himself believe you were building something like a life together, something lasting and permanent.
"Really?" he asked weakly.
His surprise broke you. All this time, it had been clear to you, that this was something permanent, that you were building patterns you wanted to live the rest of your life in, a comfortable place to rest and be at home. Meanwhile, he'd been holding himself apart, waiting for his fantasy to end.
"Oh, Bucky," you whispered, felt yourself choking up against your will. "Yeah, I love you , so much, baby. I'm sorry I didn't say it sooner, that I ever made you wonder. I love you, Bucky Barnes, completely and irrevocably."
The arms he wrapped around you were all encompassing, squeezing you tight, with a hint of trembling. "I love you too, doll. So much." His voice was rough with emotion as he clung to you, and you clung right back, arms wrapped tight around his waist, lost in the touch so long that the water started to run cold. You whined as you hurried to wash your hair before it turned to ice and then crawled out.
Wrapped in a towel, you pressed yourself in against Bucky's side. "Does this mean you'll take me to Europe?"
Bucky almost snorted as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders. "Let's be real, I wouldn't have lasted a week without you anyways."
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ambling-rambling · 1 year
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So honestly I was so excited to see this. This was my first fic on Tumblr and I'm just tickled to see that people love it? So happily, part two! This came out slightly more fluff and an interesting opportunity to explore consent? Def still steamy though, so I hope it fits the bill! And thank you so much for the ask, honestly the feedback gives me life.
Part One here
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader
CW: cockwarming, implied past somnophilia, explicit smut, shower sex
Wanna Take Care of You (pt 2)
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Bucky wakes with a gasp and a grunt, panic welling somewhere deep in his chest at the weight settled across his body, claustrophobic. He's frozen for a long moment, until dreams give way to reality, his senses filling in the gaps that sleep has left. Your scent filling his nose, the steady rhythm of your breathing and the beat of your heart pressed to his, warmth of your breath where your face is nestled in against his neck and... Oh...
For a moment, the warmth enveloping his cock is confusing, and he's too concerned to move. Slowly, the vaguest kind of memory filters through. You, over top of him, leaned forward, soft pad of your thumb pressed against his lips, silencing his confusion. His cock twitches slightly at the memory, and you groan softly.
Your face presses in more firmly against his neck, making him chuckle just slightly as he finally moves, one hand cradling the back of your head, metal fingers gliding down your spine as he twists to nuzzle his nose against your temple.
"Sorry doll, didn't mean to wake you," he murmurs. After a moment's hesitation, he asks "everything alright?"
You're finally coming awake, nodding against his neck. "Yeah, great," you answer, voice groggy still with sleep.
Bucky's metal hand flattens on your back and then curves around your hip. "So uh..."
You finally sit up, making both of you gasp, coupled bodies shifting together. You examine his face, trying to gauge him.
"Is this alright?" you ask, suddenly uncertain, worried he'd feel... Violated or something, even if you had talked about it beforehand.
Bucky laughs softly at the look of concern on your face, wrinkled up so cute. "Yeah, I mean, no complaints here. Are you okay?"
You look a little sheepish. "Uh yeah, it was... Kinda great actually."
Bucky smirks wickedly, and it's a relief to see that look on his face. Sometimes he has a hard time recovering, when he comes home so mentally beat up, wandering your shared apartment for days looking lost. This is more him, though, and that has you smiling in return.
"You got a kink we didn't know about, y/n?" he teases. You only shrug smirking.
Bucky groans, gives your ass a gentle smack. "Maybe we oughta think about a shower," he suggests. You hadn't even noticed, yet, the sticky dried mess that had accumulated while you both slept.
You nod, pulling your legs up under yourself. You both moan, overstimulated, your cunt throbbing in the absence of Bucky's cock. You roll to your feet, and you're already tossing your shirt aside as Bucky kicks his underwear the rest of the way off and flips on the shower. By the time you join him, he's standing in the spray, and the warmth of it makes you sigh.
He steps back to make room for you, and even with your eyes closed, rinsing water through your hair, you can feel him looking at you very intently.
You shift out of the water so you can look at him. "What's up?" you ask, before he can get too lost in whatever it is he's thinking.
"Just admiring the view," he retorts, and reaches his right hand up, fingers brushing against fingerprint bruises on your hip. "Did I..." he asks, and you press his hand more firmly to your skin.
"Yes, and I loved it," you interrupt, answering his question firmly before he can spiral. You step closer, twining arms around his neck, wet bodies pressed together. "That's part of what I mean, when I say it was great. It was just your body, doing what you wanted with no inhibitions."
"I could've hurt you," he mumbles, words slightly muffled against your wet shoulder.
"No, I don't think so," you answer. "But we don't have to again if you don't want. I'm just saying, it was really good. At least I know it was for me."
"What, better than regular sex?" Bucky pouts.
"I didn't say that!" you gasp, jerking back to look at him, worried you'd offended him or something, only to find him with a shit eating grin on his face. You pout, giving his shoulder a gentle whack that only makes him smirk more.
He leans in, pressing lips to yours, and you respond, only too eager. You gasp when he presses you against the cold tile of the shower wall, skin shivering and body jerking toward him, trying to protest that coolness. Bucky is unrelenting as he presses you back, though, his hot body covering yours.
"How're you feeling, doll?" he asks, his hand skating up your wet thigh, his lips hovering near your earlobe.
"Green," you gasp. "So much green."
Ever since you'd explained the concept of traffic light colors in terms of consent, Bucky had used them almost constantly. It allowed him to tap into some of his rougher predilections without fearing for your well being, mental or physical.
His fingers were questing between your thighs, flicking roughly at your clit. A night spent wrapped around his cock had left you stretched and overstimulated and you whimper, hips jerking away from him. He reads your response, almost uncannily, as always, and softens his touch.
His lips find your neck, tongue gliding across your skin, making your head tilt, loosening muscles that had tightened. He's still nuzzling and teasing at your neck and shoulder when he begins to slide his cock in. You both moan, shuddering, and Bucky presses a clenched fist to the wall beside your head. You can practically feel him wrestling with his own self control, and you know you're not helping, arms wrapped around his neck, legs barely holding you up.
"It's okay I'm still green," you mumble, reassuring him breathlessly.
He groans, cock throbbing against your twitching walls, and he pulls out only to immediately thrust back in. His pace is quick and rough, but his hand is soft on your hip, holding you in place.
His hand slides down your leg, hiking your thigh up around his hip, and you both moan. Your back is pressed into the wall, hips lifted to meet his thrusts.
It doesn't take much time at all for your overstimulated body to sit hovering on the edge, and when Bucky presses in, his mouth is disarmingly soft, against your neck, the top of your shoulder, along your collarbone, all the tender touch of lips, no teeth. It's a distinct contrast to the way his body is pounding into you, rough almost to the point of pain.
You keen as he keeps driving, your fists tangled cruelly in his hair, but that only encourages him. He throbs into orgasm, grunting as he spills,riding out his pleasure with a few more softening thrusts. It's a gentler pressing of his cock into your folds that finally brings you relief, arching onto your tip toes as the orgasm ripples through, more slow and steady than anything.
Bucky twines an arm around your waist, holding you up gently, supporting your weight tenderly. "You're so good to me, doll," he whispers. Still wrapped around you, he shifts, turning your body into the spray of water. You hum softly as the heat soothes the tension in your body. When you can stand, Bucky shifts, working gentle fingers through your hair.
"My turn to take care of you," he murmurs, reaching for your shampoo, with so much tender affection it has your knees going weak all over again.
670 notes · View notes
ambling-rambling · 2 years
Note
May I just say your fic called “the runaways” is abso-fucking-lutely amazing and I’m OBSESSED (credit to the requester) is there any way I can request similar but maybe spicy slice of runaway life? Kinda just winter soldier learning the world and his new companion with lots of fluf? 👉👈 if your not taking asks please ignore and thank you for your time!!!
Bless up. I'm so glad you loved this and requested 😭😭 fresh freedom Winter is an era I've had on my list to explore so tysm for a perfect requ. 🙌🙌 Hope you love this too! Annnd tbh this may just wind up being a series because I have at least one more "on the run" dynamic to explore. But if anyone has ideas, I'm all ears!
Pairing: winter soldier/Bucky Barnes x reader
CW: just fluffy smut. pet names (baby girl, doll face) some begging.
Part One here
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The Runaways (pt 2)
He shouldn't have gone with you. He knew it then and he knows it still, but he couldn't resist, in the throes of post-orgasm bliss. He'd let you draw him off, away from the mission, away from HYDRA. Nothing was as he expected.
Well, some things were. The shitty hotels for one. He'd almost cracked a smile when you described this particular shit hole as "ooky." The word just sounded so ridiculous, whilst simultaneously being so incredibly accurate, that amusement fluttered, foreign in his chest and on his lips.
He hated letting you leave, but you weren't wrong. It had taken HYDRA weeks to send him after you; once they knew he was AWOL, they were going to be on the hunt immediately. So it made sense for him to stay hidden as much as possible, letting you do all of the item acquiring necessary.
You delighted in introducing him to the absolutely ridiculous amounts of food available. The selection was honestly overwhelming, after years of meals that came out of questionable packages, and one disgusting stint where all nutrients came via IV. Still, it brought you so much delight that he ate everything you put in front of him.
You'd showed him some tourist attractions, including a particular exhibit at the Smithsonian, before you'd skipped town. The man with his face felt like a stranger, and so did the name, James Buchanan Barnes. You suggested perhaps it was because people had mostly called him Bucky, and that sounded closer. You'd quickly taken to calling him by the old nickname, although just as quickly, it seemed, "Bucky" was replaced by "babe" and he liked that best of all, because it was yours and yours alone, and he didn't have to wonder if it was "right" or "wrong."
But his uncontested favorite journey of discovery was the absolute endless parade of physical affection. You seemed just as hungry for it as he was, both of you touch starved and desperate after HYDRA 's cruelty. You learned quickly, though, to announce yourself before you touched him. The Soldier's suspicious reflexes were ever present, and a few barely-avoided injuries were enough to drive the lesson home. He hated it, hated that you had to be wary, treat him with kid gloves just to make sure he didn't fucking hurt you. He didn't know much, but he knew on a gut deep, visceral level that it was wrong.
You remained steadfast and unfazed. "It's not your fault, babe," you insisted, while determinedly learning how to navigate the pitfalls. You were plucky, and he began to see just why HYDRA hadn't been able to break you. You clung to the good in the world with your entire being, and exuded it back outward again. You found the good in him, too, even as more memories came crashing in by the day, missions and extractions and sanctions and always blood, so much blood, until he was drowning in it. He wondered if he had ever been good: surely it was outside even HYDRA's capabilities to forge something so atrocious, unless there had been a seed there already that they simply had to nurture.
And yet you never shied away from his touch. If anything, you seemed to revel in it, and he learned quickly that the two of you had only scratched the surface the first time, pressed into the brick wall of that alley.
It was a constant experiment, his hands traveling your body, always with awe and wonder, and no small dose of hesitance. The longer he was away from HYDRA, the less certain he was of himself, lost somewhere between the man he'd been and the weapon that HYDRA had forged. But he knew he didn't want to hurt you, and he didn't trust his own strength. He didn't want to betray the trust you gifted him with every time you let him strip you bare.
He almost ejaculated on the spot, the first time he saw you fully naked. He was fresh out of the shower, which was its own kind of wonder, after decades of filth and ice cold hose downs. He felt like some sort of idiotic, hormone-enraged teenager. You just giggled, flattered and blushing as his eyes raked over every inch of you, lingering on the slopes of your breasts and the valley between your thighs.
In his defense, for all intents and purposes, it was the first time he'd laid eyes on a woman like that. All the accounts indicated that Bucky Barnes had been a ladies' man, but those memories were still almost nonexistent.
His hands skimmed down your sides, almost trembling. He licked his lips as you caught his right hand, guided it to your chest, let him palm a breast while you purred underneath him.
He was gentle, so careful, tracing lines of delicate skin, mostly with his right hand. The feedback from the metal arm just wasn't the same, wasn't as satisfying. Oh, it had its uses, of course it did, but when it came to exploration, he wanted the feel of skin on skin.
Tentatively, he took a nipple between his fingers, rolling it just slightly, eyes jerking to your face when you gasped, pausing to read your expression. It was hard to tell sometimes, the difference between your face creased in pleasure or pain, and he was uncannily uncertain if this was a universal struggle or one unique to him, just another thing HYDRA had ripped from his mind, his ability to interpret facial expressions. He only knew that he never wanted to see your face creased in pain, let alone to be the cause of such a thing.
You learned quickly, and seemed to have an endless amount of patience, coaching him gently, encouraging him along. You nodded. "It's good, baby, " you mumbled, voice heavy with something... Arousal, he decided. It echoed the way you'd sounded when you'd identified the substance pooling between your legs.
Still pinching the soft pert bud between his fingers, Bucky leaned down, capturing your lips, easing back to something he knew. He'd stolen kisses almost constantly, at any opportunity that presented itself, reveling in the taste of you, the tenderness of touch, the eagerness with which you responded.
Now, he felt your body arching under his, and he froze, drawing back from the kiss to look at you.
You laughed gently, and then pouted. "Don't stop, baby," you whined, the particular tone of your voice making his lips twitch. He leaned back in, capturing your lips, wet and hot and sloppy, before he impulsively moved lower, trailing kisses down your jaw and your neck, cataloguing the places that made your breath catch or your fingers tighten in his hair. He worked down your chest, exploring leisurely, and then flicked his eyes up to watch your face as he let his tongue circle a pert nipple, smiling when you moaned because that was a sound he recognized.
Encouraged, he pressed in, closing his lips over the circle of flesh while his tongue continued to tease at the taut tip of the nipple, until you were writhing beneath him. Your hips rutted up against his, still clothed in his boxers, and he inadvertently moaned in response to the friction. You gasped at the vibration against such a sensitive portion of flesh and pulled at his hair.
"C'mon, baby, don't tease me," you pleaded breathlessly, and something about that made his cock twitch within the confines of his underwear. He released your nipple, drawing back to gaze up at you contemplatively. You met his gaze, reading his expression, arching a brow.
"Didja like that, baby?" you asked, with a slight smirk, though he was confident it wasn't the kind of smirk that came with ridicule or cruelty, just your gentle brand of teasing. "Liked hearing me beg?" After a moment of hesitation, he nodded slowly.
You hummed, fingers working through his hair. "Then I guess you better figure out how to make me beg, soldier," you grinned, and he smiled back, though the expression still felt foreign on his face.
It was easier than he expected. Maybe some part of him did remember, at least in terms of muscle memory, even if the specificity of the events that had formed it were still absent.
His right hand glided between your legs, and when he sifted through the valleys of flesh, snaking into your core, he found you already wet.
Aroused.
He rubbed his fingers through the slick, and then drew back, circling the little nub that had made you gasp the first time he'd touched you. Maybe you were even more aroused this time, because he barely brushed against the area before your hips were jerking, chasing the contact.
He hummed softly, enjoying himself, aware of the discomfort of his own arousal, but determined to drag out every ounce of pleasure from this first. He wanted to know everything, wanted to know how to pleasure you as no one else could, wanted to make you...
His?
He faltered a little at the thought. You weren't his to possess but something about the thought felt right.
He continued circling your clit, experimenting with speed and pressure , until you were moaning, and when he finally let a finger slide deeper, he found your arousal had leaked downward, coating your seam, and now his fingers, as he finally pressed one long digit into your center, groaning a little himself as wet heat pressed around his finger.
"That what you wanted, doll face?" he asked, his voice a low rumble. You whined, shaking your head. "No?" he asked, as though he was genuinely baffled, tilting his head to the side, as he let his finger pump lazily in and out, thumb pressed firmly to your clit now. "What do you want then?"
You whimpered, lower lip rolling between your teeth. "Want... Want more. P-please, baby," you whined, hips rocking into the slow thrust of his fingers as he pressed another in beside the first, curling experimentally. "Please, I need to cum so bad," you ground out.
He hummed thoughtfully. "Bet I could make you cum just like this," he mused, and though it wasn't quite a question, you nodded anyway.
"Please, no," you added, breathlessly.
"No?" he asked, his hand stilling, making you gasp out a complaint, almost crying now for want.
"I want... Want you to fuck me. With that big fat cock. Please Bucky, I know you want me," you gasped, and he almost smirked.
"How could you know that, baby girl?" he asked, and in the haze of arousal, it took you a moment to realize he was teasing, not asking an actual question.
You scoffed a little. "Fucking smart ass," you complained, and for the first time, he really did grin, the sight so beautiful you were sure it made your heart stop, and you knew it made your cunt throb and heave with a new dousing of wet arousal.
"Yeah, I think I am," Bucky said, sounding pleased.
You'd been so distracted by his beatific face you hadn't even noticed him stripping out of his underwear, not until he nudged your leg, pressing your limbs apart so he could settle between your thighs.
You whined in breathless anticipation as he teased the tip of his cock against your wet entrance. "That what you want, doll face?" he asked, with a wickedness you hadn't seen before.
You were beyond words now, could only nod, fingers raking desperately down his arms. "Want me to put it in?" Another nod. "Say the magic word, baby girl," he ordered.
It took all you had to muster up that quiet, plaintive "please," but when you finally did, he delivered, sinking into your depths slowly, groaning as your body welcomed him. You whined at his size, drowning in sensation as he sheathed his cock fully.
For a moment, Bucky just lay, gasping, enjoying the moment and drawing it out. He knew once he started to move, he wouldn't last long, although he doubted you would either.
He leaned, letting his lips trail tenderly up your jaw and then down your neck as he let his hips shift, moving slowly at first, but he built quickly to a pace that was near to punishing. Metal fingers closed around your hip, holding you in place as he drove into those silky depths.
He moaned as he spasmed, chasing his high and yours right along with it.
"You wanna cum, baby girl?" he asked.
"Please," you begged, and the sound of your voice, wanting and needy, was damn near enough to send him over the edge. He held on, reaching between your bodies, thumbing your clit roughly. You cried out, arching up into the touch of his hand and the pounding of his hips and shattered, body seizing around him. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders, nails digging into flesh, overstimulated as he pounded through a few more thrusts to his own orgasm.
The feel of him throbbing to climax made you groan, his spend a warm and wet coating deep inside and trickling down your thighs and onto the mattress.
Bucky was half limp above you, weight supported on his forearms as he nuzzled his face into your neck, whispering sweet nothings.
"You're so good to me. Beautiful and perfect. Dunno what I'd do without you." He did know, just didn't want to think about it, what he'd be doing right now, if he was still in HYDRA's clutches instead of wrapped up in your tender embrace.
He finally rolled off of you, the chill sending a shiver down your spine. Bucky was peering at the wet stain between your legs, soaking into the sheets.
"Is it always so...messy?" he asked, making you laugh.
"Only when it's good, baby," you answered, sitting up to cradle his cheek and steal a kiss. "Next time we'll lay a towel down first," you said, amused.
By the time things were cleaned up, even Bucky was dragging, and when you fell into the bed, the warmth of his body embracing yours had you asleep almost instantly, and the night was sweet and dreamless and peaceful.
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ambling-rambling · 2 years
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Hey!! I'm not sure if your requests are still open, but I have a really interesting and slightly *spicy* Winter Solider one in mind.
So like imagine Y/N is also a "lab rat" of HYDRA, who constantly teases Bucky and makes me very uncomfortable with her jokes. She then escapes and he is sent to retrieve her, and as she tries to hide and keep a low profile he finds her walking through an alleyway at night...👀
He like jumps from nowhere in front of Y/N and she is like freaked down. He goes to grab her to take her back to HYDRA, she fights back bla bla bla, then he goes in and chokes her against the wall and she makes some extremely dirty comment about it or something
Idk i had this idea for a bit but i don't have any talent to write anything that even sounds remotely acceptable.. So here I am! I adore your work!
Oooohhh I love all things Winter Soldier to be honest. Spicy means smutty in my mind so I hope that's what you intended. Thank you so much for being my first request! I hope I did your vision justice and that you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!
Pairing: Winter Soldier x reader
CW: the usual Winter salad bar of implied torture, brainwashing, violence, self loathing, an explicit shot of suicidal ideation. explicit smut, choking kink/breath play
Part Two here
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The Runaways
God y/n was infuriating. You treated training like it was a game, always with your lewd little comments and the way your hands would linger in obscene places, distracting him before you kicked him, or grappled him and made a move to take him down, which was its own kind of distracting, pressed body to body like that.
None of the others impacted him that way. It was something about y/n's flippancy. Your utter disregard for the missions of HYDRA, for the enrichment and training HYDRA gifted you with, was obvious. You never missed a chance to take a swipe at whatever handler or doctor or trainer was within reach. You were a liability. He wasn't surprised when you disappeared.
It was a reminder to him to do as he was told, even when it hurt. It was a reminder that HYDRA would do away with him when he'd outlived his usefulness.
He must, above all, continue to be useful.
It was a survival instinct he couldn't shake, even when he sometimes wished he could, when he longed for death, when he poeticized it in his own mind, the way death might caress him like a lover and carry him away from all the violence and the confusion and the gaps in his memory that infuriated him as much as they terrified him. He thought it would be peaceful compared to this.
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Y/N had been missing for several weeks when they pulled him into a mission brief. Seeing Pierce himself listed as the target would have been less surprising than that image of you. He'd been sure they'd killed you.
But somehow, against all odds, you had escaped. The mission was simple. Neutralize the threat by any means necessary. They didn't care if you were brought back into the fold or if you were dead.
The only thing that mattered was that he left no witnesses.
It wasn't hard to be a ghost in a city this size. It was, however, slightly trickier to take down a target without witnesses. He couldn't afford to put down half the city just to bring one rogue agent to heel.
You were difficult to find, and some part of the soldier's mind approved; maybe you had been listening to some of the shit he'd tried to teach you. But students rarely outwitted their master, and he found you eventually. Trailing silently along from rooftop perches, the soldier evaluated, contemplated. There had been no information about where you were holed up. He couldn't guarantee there wouldn't be potential witnesses around. If you were smart, you would make sure there were, and so far, you'd been smart.
But then, you left him an opening, ducking into a dark alleyway, glancing furtively over your shoulder.
The soldier didn't wait, dropping from the roof to the ground with a slight clatter, but he was on you before you could fully turn to assess the threat, leveling that super strength and speed to his advantage.
You hit the dirt with an audible thud. "Thought I taught you better," she Soldier growled.
And you laughed at him.
"Maybe I've got you right where I want you big guy. You think about that?" you asked, scissoring his leg between yours and wrenching, forcing some of his weight off of you, enough to roll free.
He hadn't considered where you might want him, and he didn't bother to now. You were a viper, eager to confuse him, a threat to the goals of HYDRA. His mission.
You lunged to your feet, and the soldier cursed that he'd trained you so well. The two traded blow after blow, neither quite gaining the upper hand. In spite of that, you never reached for the knife he was sure was sheathed at your hip. Then again, neither did he.
The two were both sweating by the time you stumbled, and the soldier moved in, metal fingers closing around your throat. He didn't meet the resistance he expected, no screaming or begging. The sound that left you was...lewd. A moan. And when your hands met his chest again, it was to pull, not push, dragging at his shoulders, pulling him inexplicably closer.
"You like it, Soldat, don't you? Your hands around my throat?" The soldier faltered. He didn't like hurting people. He did it because he had to. But your hips arched into him, and were met with resistance. He was rock hard beneath the tactical pants. You smirked, and when your hand skated down, he didn't try to stop you. Metal fingers curled a little tighter against your throat, but then your hand was on him, palming him through the pants, and his breath caught.
You smirked. "C'mon, Soldat. Don't you wanna know what you're missing out on? What HYDRA is keeping from you?"
More lies, he thought. Except the way you were rubbing him had sensation coursing through his whole body, thoughts hazy, a need growing, more insistent than the thirst or hunger he'd so effectively learned to ignore.
He shuddered, and you yanked at the fly of his pants.
"What are you doing?" he growled, fingers tightening around your throat, making you wheeze slightly.
"Showing you what you're missing. You'll like it, I promise."
Your hand was in his pants now, cradling his cock. The soft skin of your palm as you rubbed had his hips jerking forward with a low grunt, against his own better judgement.
His fingers loosened around your throat as he rocked into your touch.
"Feels good, don't it?" you asked with a wicked smirk. He hesitated, and then nodded, because there was no denying the way his body was responding to your touch. "Trust me, it gets better. Touch me," you moaned, your hips arching in a mirror of the soldier's.
"What?" he asked. It was probably a trap, another tactic to distract him, but he found he just didn't care.
"Touch me," you said again. One handed, you yanked at the button and zipper on your own pants, shoving them down awkwardly, but then the soldier was there, helping you.
"What..." he started to ask, and you pressed a hand on top of his, guiding his hand between your legs and then a finger to your clit, making you whine. Your head tilted back, into the brick of the wall behind you, your throat stretching under his hand. Your hips rutted into his touch, and hesitantly, slowly, his warm fingers quested deeper, came away wet.
"What is that?" he whispered, rubbing the substance between his fingers.
"Arousal," you answered easily. "Means I like what you're doing."
He nodded, satisfied with that answer, and he leaned in to touch you again, his attention split between what you were doing with your hand, stroking his cock until his legs practically trembled, and what he was now doing with his hand.
His head leaned closer, pulling in your smell, now laced with what he catalogued as "arousal." He groaned as you squeezed a little tighter, hips jerking forward as he gasped. He rubbed at the soft spot, observing the way your breath caught, the way you rolled into the touch, and his lower lip caught between his teeth.
Experimentally, his finger glided deeper, along your crease, until he found an opening. He drew back, watched your face as he pressed a finger in. You writhed, and to his surprise, leaned into the pressure of his hand at your throat, capturing his lips, hot and wet and something about it had his cock throbbing in your hand, making him grunt.
"You like that soldier?" you asked, wickedly, trailing lips along his jaw. He drew his finger out and then pressed back in, more quickly now, as his own need and wanting grew.
"Put your dick there," you mumbled, hips rocking forward to meet him.
He rocked his hips forward, and your nimble fingers guided him to your entrance, coated with desire. He slid in and his eyes widened at the sensation. You both moaned, your hand sliding across his body, pulling and clawing at his hip, until he was seated completely to the hilt.
You both stood for a moment, gasping and shuddering at the sensation. He groaned, and then drew back without prompting, sliding back in again. The next stroke was a thrust, making you both moan, his hand tightening on your throat. Something about the constructed airflow was almost enough to send you spiraling into orgasm right there.
His rhythm faltered a little as he drew closer to completion.
"Don't stop," you urged, wheezing against his grip on your throat, which he immediately loosened. The metal hand went to your hip instead, dragging you into each thrust, cock hitting even deeper. Your eyes rolled as your entire body clenched around him, and the soldier grunted, gasping as he came, cock throbbing into your fluttering walls.
When it was done, he slumped forward, pinning you even more thoroughly against the wall as your legs trembled. Your hands trailed to his face, framing his jaw so you could kiss him, soft and sweet, and then harder, before drawing back to search his face.
"Come with me," you whispered hoarsely. "It doesn't have to be this way. Run away with me," there was almost a note of pleading.
Standing there, with his softening cock still buried in your body, heaving for breath with more pleasure firing through his nerves than he could ever recall, the soldier felt himself falter in his mission for the first time, at least that he could recall.
He'd never been more tempted.
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ambling-rambling · 2 years
Text
In the Bleak MidWinter (1)
Pairing: winter soldier x reader
CW: injury, blood, allusions to brain washing and torture but nothing explicit.
A/N: I started this in Google drive and then tweaked for Tumblr. I love giving Winter something soft. May or may not be a series because. Well, I have some ideas. 😈 Let me know if this is something you'd like to see more of
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Missions went south all the time. Things went wrong more often than they went right. The soldier was used to dealing with that. Things didn't usually go quite this far south, though. Out in the middle of nowhere in the dead of winter, comms offline. They'd been pushing this campaign for weeks. He was exhausted to the point that he wasn't even healing properly, and the cold wasn't helping. He was trained for tactics, not survival. They hardly ever seemed to care whether he survived, especially not now that there were others.
At least his sense of direction was good for something, and he recalled a little farm not far from the base they'd been infiltrating. He'd noticed it, uncannily close. Not that it was a concern because they worried about civilian casualties, but just because they didn't want any eyes on their little mission.
There weren't a lot of options left, though, so he'd set his boots in that direction, one aching step at a time. Coldly, he inventoried his own injuries; dislocated shoulder, several bullet wounds, though his shoulder was bleeding the most profusely. Maybe that was just because he couldn't really assess the wound on his head beyond knowing that it wasn't actively dripping into his eye anymore. Everything hurt, but hurt wouldn't kill him. Hypothermia might. He didn't really know; cold was uncomfortable, but he'd never been out in it long enough to find out if it would actually travel from "uncomfortable" to "deadly." Presumably simple cold was different than cryofreeze.
Thankfully it didn't look like today would be the day he found out if the cold would kill him, because the cabin was coming into view, at long last. He was dizzy, stumbling hard enough that he fell against the door. He leaned for a minute, fighting to catch his breath, trying to regulate his breathing and push down the sound of his own heartbeat in his ears so that he could listen for movement inside the cabin.
Leave no witnesses.
He intended to breach the door, go in hard and fast, but pulling in a deep breath to steady himself made his lungs burn from the cold and his ribs ache and all at once his vision tunneled. The last thing he was aware of was how incredibly blue the frigid sky was. Like ice, it matched the feel of snow crunching under his body as he collapsed.
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He came to slowly. Strange that it was so warm. He usually became aware halfway through thawing out from cryo; hadn't been put on ice, then. And he was laid flat out, uncomfortably soft. The dislocated shoulder made him slow to move, but when he did, a strange crinkling sound had him looking down. Someone had bandaged the bullet wound, unnecessarily because it was already starting to close up now that he'd rested. Strange. No one ever bothered to tend what would repair itself.
And there was a blanket… strange. He could hardly remember the last time he'd been covered, and he quickly kicked it off, feeling claustrophobic under it, like his legs were tangled and he couldn't move.
The sound of the door opening had him lurching to his feet.
"Easy there," the woman's voice was calm, appraising him from the kitchen as she shrugged out of a coat covered in snow. "Honestly didn't expect to see you upright so soon. You must've lost a lot of blood." She looked him over again, frowning. "I couldn't set that shoulder while you were out, unfortunately. I can help you, though, and I cleaned everything else up the best I could."
He couldn't understand why that would be unfortunate. He should respond, but he felt his eyes flit nervously, scanning the room as if a handler might appear and backhand him for insolence. "Uh, thanks."
The seemed enough to satisfy her. She nodded as she toed out of her boots, "I'm y/n. Do I even wanna ask where you came from?"
That answer, at least, was obvious, had him giving one sharp shake of his head.
"Didn't think so. You hungry?"
The question surprised him. Nobody ever asked him that anymore. Threw some meals his way between missions, sometimes, but they never asked. Y/n was arching an eyebrow expectantly, and so he finally nodded, hesitantly. He wasn't supposed to ask for anything.
"Good. Come sit down. Making me nervous, lingering like that."
He ducked his head. "Sorry," he mumbled. Was he supposed to apologize? He had no idea. Usually if he needed to apologize, they just reset him, and the mere thought of that had him flinching, hurrying to do as she'd told him before he could upset her further, sinking into one of the dining room chairs.
He could feel y/n looking at him, but he kept his eyes down, avoiding her gaze. "We'll get some food in you so you don't pass out on me again and then set that shoulder. Don't wanna leave it too long or it'll be even worse trying to get it back in. No sense making it any more painful than it has to be. It looked like the bullet was through and through. I didn't see any shrapnel when I was cleaning it out, but I'm not exactly a medic so, you might wanna find a doctor."
Did people always talk so much? "It's… fine," he tried to reassure her. She'd already done more for him than most anyone he could remember and he had no idea how to respond. Should he pay her? Not like he had any money on him. Shit, half his weapons and ammo were gone, too. HYDRA would be pissed whenever they caught up with him. All that and he'd managed to lose every man on the op. Not his fault, part of him insisted, but it wouldn't matter. They would punish him for his failure, and then enrich him, fix whatever had caused this mission to go so sour.
There was a sudden touch on his shoulder that sent him reeling. One hand flung up, knocking the hand away, even as he pushed up and away from the table, chest heaving.
Y/n held both hands up where he could see them. "Easy there. You ok? Got a little far away there for a minute."
" Fine, " he insisted again, although the hammering of his heart suggested otherwise. She shrugged, moved back over to the stove and started pouring some sort of soup into bowls.
"So you got a name to go with all that tactical gear and metal?" she asked, glancing at the metal arm, though her expression didn't seem scared, none of the wariness he was accustomed to when anyone examined the arm. If anything she looked...we'll, he didn't know. But it was warmer than he expected, considering the damage he'd done with this metal monstrosity.
She was looking at his face now, expectant. Right, she'd asked a question. About his name. He'd reflexively shied away from the question. He wasn't meant to have a name. He was the soldier, or the asset, just a weapon, and weapons didn't have names. Not like that.
He shook his head. No, he didn't have a name. If this was some sort of test, he wasn't going to fail by digging through memories he wasn't supposed to have.
"C'mon," she chided lightly, setting a bowl in front of him. Steam curled from the contents, and the smell was mouth watering. "What should I call you then?"
The soldier licked his lips, nervous. He didn't know why, or even where it came from, because he hardly remembered having a name. But it was there, nonetheless, on the tip of his tongue.
"B-Bucky. My name's Bucky."
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ambling-rambling · 2 years
Text
Reblog if you are a fic writer who welcomes moodboards, playlists, remixes, art and any other type of gift based on your stories.
124K notes · View notes
ambling-rambling · 2 years
Text
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Wanna Take Care of You
Pairing: soft!Bucky x f!reader
Summary: Bucky doesn't always think about sex when he comes home feeling rough, but you have the perfect solution to keep you both satisfied.
Content Warning: explicit smut. oral (m receiving). p in v unprotected sex. somnophilia. cockwarming. pet names (babe/baby; love/lover mostly)
Part Two here
It's always a little hard to know how Bucky's going to feel when he comes home from a mission. Sometimes he's stressed, frustrated, in need of a release and you're only too happy to give it to him. Sometimes he's so soft, so wrecked it seems the slightest breeze will blow him over, and you're happy to be his soft place to land.
It's easy to pull him into the shower, help him wash the mission off his skin, hands smoothing over scrapes and bruises that are already healing, at least outwardly. Sometimes you think it's a disservice, the swiftness with which his body knits itself back together; nobody can see the way it scars him, no physical reminder that he's been beat up, that he should be handled with care.
Even once he's fallen asleep, wrapped up in you, his face buried in your shoulder, he's restless. He never thinks about sex when he comes home this way, but his body wants what it wants, especially when he's been gone a few days.
Tonight is no different. You're still awake, hands smoothing absently through his hair, thinking about what little he told you about this latest mission before he fell asleep, when you feel him begin to shift, his little sighs muffled against your shirt. You hum softly, hand smoothing down his back, trying to soothe him back to sleep.
Instead he moans quietly, rocking toward your thigh as he begins to stiffen, rolling his hips forward. You already know you won't be able to wake him, not for any lack of trying. He sleeps deep, the only place he can sleep deep, because he feels safe here. You'd made a gentle suggestion before he left this time. You hate how restless it makes him, worried about the lack of quality sleep. Super serum or not, his body needs what it needs, and you think you have just the solution.
"Shhh, baby," you murmur, hand still rubbing his back, but this time you let your hand slide lower, under the waistband of his boxer briefs, cupping his ass and pulling him toward you the next time his hips rock forward, dragging his hardened cock more firmly against your thigh.
The sensation makes him moan, eyelids fluttering, and you think he might wake, but he doesn't, eyes remaining resolutely closed even as his hips continue to move, seeking friction.
You shift back a little, creating enough space so you can slide your hand to the front of his hip, rubbing gently in the spot that always makes him jerk. "Shhh, baby, I'm gonna take care of that for you," you whisper, propping yourself up to kiss his stubbly cheek.
"Can you roll over for me, love?" you murmur in his ear, extracting your hand so you can give his shoulder a gentle push, helping him over onto his back. You prop yourself up on one elbow, so that you can see his face as you palm him over his underwear. Your eyes are glued to him, fascinated by the way his features twist at your touch, even in sleep. His lips turn into a pout as his hips rut up, seeking more contact.
"Please?" he whines, and the sound of his voice, gravely and deep with sleep, has you instantly wet.
"Mm, of course, lover. I'm gonna take care of you," you promise. You sit up so that you can pull at his underwear enough to free his length from the confines of the fabric. The sight of him makes you sigh. So needy. So hot.
You lean down to kiss his hip, making him jerk, as you lightly rub the pad of one finger against the tip of his cock, already leaking with precum. You turn your head and lick your way up the vein on the underside of his member, delighting in the way it twitches, even as Bucky's hips lift and he lets out a needy moan. You comply with the unspoken request, swirling your tongue around the tip, taking him in slowly.
With one hand braced on his hip, you use the other to work what you're not taking in your mouth. His hand flutters, lifting off the sheets as he moans your name softly. You surface to smile up at him, letting your hand work slowly up and down as you examine his face. Nope, still asleep, even with his hips rutting into your touch, and something about that has you absolutely gushing. You can feel your own arousal dripping down the inside of your thighs, and you nibble at your lower lip, thoughtfully.
He whines again, and you comply, letting your mouth slide down with a little more urgency, until he's pressed against the back of your throat and your eyes are watering. You're surprised when his hips jerk up, his cock forcing down your throat in a way he's never done whilst awake, making you gag, hard. You suck as you draw back, working him again with your hand as he shifts and moans from your ministrations.
You sit up, pushing your own ruined panties down your legs and tossing them aside. Your stomach is tight, your cunt throbbing with wanting as you straddle him, knees against his hips, using your hand to guide him into place. You rut your hips, letting his weeping tip tease against your entrance. You both moan as you begin to sink down, and he gasps at the way your walls grip him, drawing him in.
For the first time, Bucky's eyes open, a noise of confusion dying on his tongue as you reach forward to trace his lower lip with your thumb. "Shhh, baby, it's just me. Gonna take care of you, okay? Just like we talked about."
His eyes are already fluttering half closed. "You always do, y/n," he mumbles, his hands coming to rest on your thighs. He sucks in a deep breath as you begin to roll your hips forward and back. You both groan at the sensation, and you tilt your head back, bracing your hands on his stomach so you can lift and drop, pulling him in deep enough to make you gasp.
Bucky's hands drift around, cradling your ass, helping you rise. When you look, his eyes are still closed, and you can't tell if he's waking up or not. It doesn't matter.
You can feel from his throbbing cock and the way his thighs are trembling beneath you that he's close, and you reach down, rubbing roughly at your clit. The sensation makes your hips jerk, losing your rhythm, and beneath you Bucky groans. His grip on your hips is bruising, but it feels so good. He's always careful with you, mindful of his own strength, and the idea that you might have a reminder tomorrow has you spasming.
"C'mon, baby, cum for me," you whine.
That does it, Bucky's head grinding back into the pillow as he cums. The sensation of his cock, throbbing and wet, has you shattering, your own orgasm ripping through you, and you grind against him until you're sure you're both spent.
With a sigh, you sink down, body splayed against his chest. Your walls flutter around his twitching cock, periodic pulses sending subtle little rivulets of pleasure through your aching core.
After a while, when Bucky's breathing has evened out to light snores, you begin to sit up. A muffled sound of complaint rumbles from his throat. "Stay," he mumbles, arms wrapping around you, dragging you back down against his chest.
So you do, falling asleep with your head pillowed on Bucky's shoulder, filled with him.
And Bucky doesn't so much as shift beneath you the rest of the night.
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ambling-rambling · 2 years
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Masterlist
Honestly, I have no idea what I'm gonna write. I like to be just as surprised as you by what my brain decides to come up with.
Requests are always open if you have anything you'd particularly like to see. I will be selective of my requests as I write primarily for my own enjoyment. Making people happy makes me happy, though, so definitely hit me up. Also don't be surprised if it takes me a while to get to it! I write when I have time so it's not always the most consistent.
I'll keep a running list here of current writings for easy navigation.
🔥 for smut
💔 for angst
💖 for fluff
Appropriate content warnings can be found at the top of each respective post.
Bucky Barnes
Series
In the Bleak MidWinter (in progress)
Part One
Tag list: @boofy1998
One Shots
💔💖 Don't Leave Me
🔥 The Runaways
🔥 The Runaways (pt 2)
🔥 Wanna Take Care of You
🔥 Wanna Take Care of You (pt 2)
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