#winterbones fanfic

[chaos-and-ink]

Chapter Seven As Stable As Water is posted!

Summary: He really was lucky he had a boyfriend as understanding as Brock. And Bucky immediately felt sick for how he had treated him last month. He’d been fucking awful to him. Constantly pushing and pulling at him and dragging him through the mud. He ignored his texts, gave him short replies, fought him on everything. Bucky wanted to curl up and cry as he recalled the last month. He was an awful boyfriend. God, he was lucky to have Brock as a boyfriend.

Kudos, comments, reblogs, all that jazz is super appreciated! :D

#as stable as water #Bucky Barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes #brock rumlow #Brock Rumlow fanfiction #Steve rogers #Steve Rogers fanfiction #stucky #Stucky fanfiction #winterbones #winterbones fanfiction #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #Stucky fic #stevebucky #Bucky Barnes fanfic #Stucky fanfic #winterbones fanfic

[lavenderpanic]

New chapter of I Am Ash From Your Fire up now!

#bucky barnes #stucky #steve rogers #stevebucky #fanfiction #captain america #catws #marvel fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfiction #marvel #winterbones #winterbones fanfic #htp #hydra trash party #brock rumlow #bucky barnes whump #bucky whump #iaafyf #i am ash from your fire

[six-demon-bag]

#fanfic #winterbones #bucky barnes #brock rumlow #hydra trash party #winterbaron #hannibal #hannigram #ao3 #hannibal lecter #will graham #hydra husbands #jack rollins #fic #fandom #fanfiction #u know it #sixdemon museum

[iceandironbars]

Untouchable

The whispering in his head came to him in his sleepless nights. In the beginning he wasn't sure if it was part of the nightmares or if he was awake and hallucinating.

'Хороший Солдат...'

A deep groan, almost a purr, followed the whisper, the voice rough. He would recognize it anywhere. Relief crawled through his body and mind like a drug intoxicating his system.

'Командир.', he whispered breathlessly.

His heart leaped and felt like it was about to burst, a sharp ache spreading all the way through his chest and sideways up his neck.

For a second he thought he was choking, the air getting stuck in his throat, along with the ghostly feeling, the memory, of his Commander using his throat. Like he was made for it. And he was. That's what he always told him.

'Мой хороший мальчик... Doin so good for me... Fuck-'

His face flushed in a rush of blood that felt like it was searing his cheeks. He wanted to hide his face in the pillow, but he didn't dare move. He wasn't ordered to. He wasn't-

He was hard. Painfully so.

The voice in his head... If he closed his eyes he could see the deep amber and hazel eyes, staring right through him, intensely, with the hunger of a hunting predator, turning into liquid gold.

When the air rushed back into his lungs he could almost smell him. His scent, so vivid as if he was right here with him. Leather, rust, cedar wood and gun powder, a sharp smell, impossible to ignore and deep enough to make him drown.

A sharp gasp escaped him and he sat up on the floor, where he slept. He wasn't human. He didn't belong in a bed. That knowledge had been drilled into him for as long as it took for him to realize, he didn't want a bed either. He didn't want to be human.

Sweat was breaking out on his forehead and something between a scream and a moan caught in his chest, tangled and glued in place messily.

Inhaling the ghost's scent, he continued panting, listening to its low heady voice.

'C'mon Солдат, eyes on me- yeah, just like that... fucking slut for it, look at you-'

He heard himself whimper as he looked down his body, at his painfully hard length covered by a thin throw blanket, while his mouth shaped silent words, repeating them, begging.

'Please, please, please-'

Tears filled his eyes as his mind started clearing, realization creeping up on him-

'P-Please don't leave, please, Командир-'

He spoke now but he couldn't hear his own voice over the loud rush of blood in his ears, mounting in a high pitched beeping noise that was accompanied by black spots tainting his vision.

And then, within a second, the room was silent. Empty. No noise. No voice. No scent. Just him and his frantic breathing, his rapidly beating heart.

The Commander wouldn't stay.

He never does.

The asset knew he was gone.

He wishes he didn't.

Drawing his legs close to his body, he starts sobbing violently and wishes he could give up his mind, to make it real.

He would give up the world, his life, if that meant he could be with him again.

As he sat in his dark apartment, surrounded by the life he was cursed to continue, the relief he felt dissolved like smoke in the air. Turning everything he ever felt was solid into nothing but a breeze.

Untouchable.

#bucky barnes #brock rumlow #winterbones #winter soldier #hydra trash party #fanfic #kind of

[mandyyvibes]

For Reasons Wretched and Divine

Chapter 7: “It Will Come Back.”

But the moment its mask fell, the moment Rogers looked at it…

“Bucky?”

“Who the hell is Bucky?”

@catws-anniversary

#CATWS10 #marvel #marvel fanfic #ao3 #ao3 author #fandom event #captain america the winter soldier #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fic #brock rumlow #brock rumlow fanfic #winterbones #htp #steve rogers #steve rogers fanfic #stucky #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romanoff

[rainbowchihuahuabunny]

Y'all I need help finding a fanfic that I read but have since lost track of. I don't remember if it was on here or on AO3. I'm getting desperate here trying so hard to find it 😭

Basically it was a stucky fic with hints of winterbones where Steve had rescued Bucky and was trying to help get him back to himself but he couldn't get him to eat or anything. Finally Steve breaks down and gets Rumlow. Rumlow is there and gets Bucky to eat by finally putting it on the floor. At one point Bucky flips out and destroys the wooden bed, ending up with a bunch of splinters that need tending to.

#stucky #the winter soldier #winter soldier #winterbones #Steve Rogers #stevebucky #fic #marvel fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic #bucky barnes #james bucky buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #marvel #crossbones #brock rumlow

[winterbonesthings]

I'm lovin' all the pain I'm causing you too much instead by Rainbow_WinterBones

Rating:

Explicit

Archive Warning:

Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Category:

M/M

Fandoms:

The Falcon and the Winter Soldier (TV)

Marvel Cinematic Universe

Captain America (Movies)

Relationships:

James "Bucky" Barnes/Brock Rumlow

James "Bucky" Barnes/Helmut Zemo

Characters:

James "Bucky" Barnes

Helmut Zemo

Brock Rumlow

Additional Tags:

boot kink

Dubious Consent

Cock & Ball Torture

Cheating

Language: English

Series: Part 1 of Wet Nightmares

Next Work →

Stats:

Published:2023-02-16

Words:777

Chapters: 1/1

Summary:

Rumlow finds Bucky and decides to remind him who he belongs to.

Excerpt:

Bucky found himself backing away from Rumlow on unsteady legs, hitting the wall too soon for his liking. It was as if the room had shrunk around him.

“What are you going to do about it?” Rumlow whispered, tracing a finger down his chest, running it in teasing circles down to his navel, then palming his abs, fingers pressing in, squeezing the muscle hard enough to hurt.

Bucky hated himself for the way he pressed into Rumlow’s hand, for the soft, needy sound that escaped his lips. He closed his eyes, trying to take a bracing breath, but his head snapped to the side with the force of the slap Rumlow laid on him.

#bucky #bucky tag #winterbones #rumlow tag #hi #i'm the problem it's me #winterbaron #zemo tag #bucky barnes #brock rumlow #helmut zemo #fanfiction #fanfic

[polyavenger]

When the age difference fics are really good but in order to give 18-21yo Bucky a bad background you have to buy into school tropes that are triggering to me and argh, I just want to read this genre-

#fanfics #winterbones #stucky #bucky barnes #i just want to read this?? grr #ranting here because my ex knows most other accounts and would sue me haha

[psychiccatpanda]

Warm When the Cold Breezes Blow So the ones I finished are the ones that have a little badge from one of the past bingos/events.  :)  The ones with X’s I have ideas for/fics started but did not finish yet.

B1: Interrupted by Supervillains -  The Knack to Flying with Flair: Or, in Other Words, Hold My Hand - A WinterIron Round Robin - Bucky Barnes/Tony Stark - General

B5: Domesticity - Burn the World Down for You (Chapter 18) - Bucky Barnes/Brock Rumlow - Explicit (though this chapter is not)

U1: Shelter - Find a Home With You (Chapter 4) - Bucky Barnes & Tony Stark; Steve Rogers/Bucky Barnes - Teen

U2: Hurt/Comfort -  Something to Get Me Through the Nothing - A WinterIron Round Robin - Tony Stark/Bucky Barnes - Teen

U3: Takeout/Pizza -  The Devil Is in the Details (Sign on the Dotted Line) - Chapter 3  - Bucky Barnes/Tony Stark/Clint Barton - Teen

U4: Inclement Weather (Swapped!) -  Warm When the Cold Breezes Blow - Bucky Barnes/Tony Stark - Gen

U5: Retirement - Burn the World Down for You (Chapter 17) - Bucky Barnes/Brock Rumlow - Explicit

C1: Wrong Number - The Devil Is in the Details (Sign on the Dotted Line) - Chapter 1 - Bucky Barnes/Tony Stark/Clint Barton - Teen

C3: Free Space -  Find a Home with You (Chapter 3) - Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers; Bucky Barnes & Tony Stark  - Teen

C4: AU: Royalty -  Morguna and the Green Queen - Bucky Barnes & Morgan Stark - Teen

K1: Newspaper Clippings - Flawed Hypothesis - Epilogue (moodboard) - Steve Rogers/Bucky Barnes/Tony Stark - Mature

K3: James Rhodes/War Machine - Too Good to Be True (Chapter W Is for Weddings) - Bucky Barnes/Tony Stark; James Rhodes/Carol Danvers; Steve Rogers/Natasha Romanov - Mature

K4: Til Death Do Us Part - Burn the World Down for You (Chapter 16) - Bucky Barnes/Brock Rumlow - Explicit

K5: Secret Admirer - Grab My Pen and I Write Up a List - Bucky Barnes/Tony Stark - Gen

Y5: Warm and Fuzzy Feelings - Part One: Avengers Assemble - Bucky Barnes/Clint Barton - General

Adopted: Picture of Clint boosting Bucky into a small opening - Who's Afraid of the Big Bad Wolf? - Bucky Barnes & Clint Barton - Gen

#buckybarnesbingo2022 #bbb2022 #Bucky Barnes #winteriron #winterbones #stuckony #stucky #marvel fanfic #masterpost

[wishihadatail]

So we said a week but we couldn’t wait a week lol. Chapter 13! Is up!

#what'd i miss #catws #bucky barnes #winter soldier #brock rumlow #crossbones #winterbones #(kind of) #fanfic #captain america

[chaos-and-ink]

Chapter 8 of As Stable As Water is now released!

Summary: Bucky looked up just in time to see Steve push open the door and bang his shoulder on the frame. He could hear it from all the way across the restaurant and he knew it had to hurt. But the blond looked unaffected as he spotted Bucky and grinned. His whole face seemed to light up and Bucky felt himself flush. He needed to hold himself together, goddamnit. 

Comments, reblogs, kudos, all the likes are super appreciated! Finally getting some more Steve content in this fic! 💜

#as stable as water #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #Bucky Barnes fanfiction #Bucky Barnes fanfic #Steve Rogers fanfiction #Steve Rogers fanfic #Stucky fanfiction #stucky fanfic #stucky #Steve rogers #bucky barnes #brock rumlow #Brock Rumlow fanfiction #winterbones #winterbones fanfiction #winterbones fanfic

[lavenderpanic]

NEW FIC

Okay I've been messing around with this idea for like months and i only have like 3k words written and I wanted to test the waters to see if this is something you guys are interested in reading.

Brief synopsis: Bucky, a 23 year old college dropout, lives with his fiancé Brock Rumlow by the small New England college Brock is a professor at. Between his OCD and his anxiety and the gender dysphoria his fiancé assures him is all in his head, he struggles to find purpose and happiness. That is, until his fiancé's graduate student, Steve Rogers, moves into town and disrupts everything Bucky thought he knew.

Excerpt below cut, TW: OCD, DV, intentional midgendering/deadnaming, SH behaviors, coercion

Bucky peeks his head into the living room. There are only three men besides his fiancé, but the conversation is already too loud. Brock always says Bucky is just especially sensitive, that he has a naturally nervous predisposition, that’s why he’s best suited to staying home most of the time. He’s right, Bucky is sensitive, to noises and lights and crowds. Brock is so kind to not force him to go out. When he was a kid, his parents always thought he was faking it for attention, so they’d make him go to church and school and the grocery store even when he was overwhelmed. Brock never makes him leave if he doesn’t want to. And sometimes, even if he does want to, Brock knows it’s better for him to stay inside.

“Jamie, why don’t you bring out the drinks?” Brock calls.

Bucky’s back stiffens and he takes a slow breath. The men probably won’t even want to talk to him, they rarely do, beyond simple pleasantries. He just needs to smile and look nice. He grabs the silver tray of gin and tonics and walks into the living room with a timid little smile. He recognizes two of the men, other professors from the university, Rollins and Sitwell, he actually took a course with Rollins before he dropped out, but he doesn’t recognize the third. He looks barely older than Bucky himself, with his sandy hair and round, blue eyes, like perfectly ripe blueberries.

He doesn’t dress like the other men, either. During their classes, sure, they may dress nicely, in suits or button-ups with pressed slacks, but when they get together outside of that, they nearly always wear jeans, maybe a nice shirt or a sweater if they care enough that night. But the younger man, the blond, he’s dressed up like a vaguely homosexual humanities major from a nineties movie about a college in New England. Sweater vest, pants in a cinnamon-y kind of brown, a cream-white shirt rolled up to his elbows.

Brock pecks Bucky’s cheek as he places the tray down on the coffee table, next to the platters of carefully-selected crackers and nuts and cheeses that Bucky has spent the last two years learning how to curate. Brock’s real particular about shit like that. “Thanks, babe,” Brock says gently.

“Dinner should be ready soon,” Bucky whispers, sidling up close to him and glancing at the other men. “Like… half an hour more, I think? The potatoes just need a bit longer.”

“Of course, babydoll,” Brock murmurs, then kisses Bucky’s cheek again. “Go on, you don’t have to stay in here.”

Bucky smiles thankfully and disappears back into the kitchen. It’s a gorgeous kitchen, Brock wanted to gut it and rebuild it all marble and sleek, but Bucky begged him to keep it the way it is. It has beautiful hand painted tiles and dark-stained wooden cabinets and the most perfectly-worn brass fixtures. Brock finally agreed to keep it the way he bought it, if only because Bucky’s the one who spends so much time in the kitchen.

The kitchen smells glorious, the whole apartment does, really. Like thyme and garlic and the orange-cranberry cake he baked this afternoon. The potatoes in the oven are a soft golden-brown, encrusted with herbs, and the steak is resting on the counter. He did a good job. Brock will be happy with him. He didn’t mess up like last time.

He decides to start on the icing for the cake, a simple powdered sugar icing, perhaps with a squeeze or two of orange juice. He plucks the leftover orange from the ceramic fruit bowl and places it down on the counter before going to the cupboard and reaching for the paper bag of icing sugar. He has to stand on his tiptoes and lean against the counter and he’s still barely tall enough to brush his fingers against the bottom of the bag. He gets a loose grip on it when–

“Oh, hey, do you need help with that?”

Bucky whirls around in surprise, sending the bag tumbling to the ground. Nearly half of it flies out in a sugary cloud, painting the antique tiles an ashy grey. On the other side of the cloud stands the blond, the young man who Bucky still hasn’t been introduced to.

“Oh, shit, I’m sorry,” he says with wide eyes.

“No, no, my fault,” Bucky whispers. Brock is going to be so mad with him for making such a bad mess. He’ll need to really mop it, maybe twice or even three times, fine sugar is almost impossible to clean properly. “Sorry.”

“No, nonsense, do you have a broom or something, I could–”

Bucky shakes his head quickly and gestures for Steve to return to the men before he finds his voice. “‘S not your fault, I can clean it. Do you… you need something?”

“Yeah, I’m sorry, Rumlow just said there would be seltzer or soda or something in here. I’m not much of a drinker,” he laughs apologetically.

“Oh, yeah, of course,” Bucky nods. He opens the fridge to reveal shelves upon shelves of perfectly organized food, labeled tupperwares, straight lines of soda cans. “Any flavor you prefer?” Bucky asks quietly.

“Yeah, lemon would be great, thanks.” Bucky hands him a silvery can with a little lemon slice embossed into its front, careful not to slip into the mess of sugar. “Oh, I’m Steve, by the way. I’m a PhD candidate, I just moved here. I’m, um, TA-ing for one of Rumlow’s courses, and I’m teaching one myself.”

“Ooh, that sounds interesting,” Bucky hums. He struggles to think of an intelligent-sounding thing to say next. “What are you, like… getting your PhD in?”

Steve starts to say something, he nearly launches into what must be a very rehearsed recitation of his field of study, but Brock appears in the doorway next to him a moment later, places a hand on his far shoulder like they’re pals. Brock’s easy smile falls from his face when he sees the pile of sugar in the very center of the kitchen. Bucky instinctively takes a step back at the displeasure written into every line of his face. “What’s taking so long?” Brock chuckles, but there isn’t any humor in it.

“I’m really sorry, man,” Steve chuckles, ducking his head in faux-embarrassment. “I knocked over the sugar when I went to open the fridge, stupid mistake.”

Brock’s posture softens a bit, his shoulders drop and he stops glaring at Bucky quite so menacingly. “Yeah, she can clean it up, don’t worry about it.”

Bucky shoots Steve a little thankful grin as the two men walk out of the kitchen. He manages to salvage the sugar that didn’t fall out of the bag and does his best to brush as much of the mess on the floor into a trash bag as he can. He’ll clean the rest tonight, once everyone leaves and he can really scrub at the tile.

He doesn’t get the chance to make the icing before he has to plate up dinner, but that’s fine, the men usually like to drink and talk a bit in between dinner and dessert, so he should have plenty of time to ice the cake in between. He sets five plates full of potatoes and steak and grilled asparagus on the table and calls in for the men. He sits at Brock’s side. He doesn’t have steak, he doesn’t really like to eat meat, it feels weird against his teeth, but he does love potatoes and asparagus. He manages to finish off his plate, which earns him a small nod of approval from his fiancé.

“So, Jamie, what do you do?” Steve asks, once there’s a lull in conversation.

Bucky takes a shaky breath and glances to Brock before answering. “I really just take care of the home, I don’t… work or anything.”

The focus is quickly drawn away from him, and he doesn’t mind. He really doesn’t have anything interesting to add to any conversation. Not unless the topic is baked goods or bookshelves or something. He isn’t good at small talk, but it’s okay, because people don’t usually want to talk to him anyway.

He clears the table while the men chat in the living room. He notices Steve glancing at him through the doorway that connects the living room to the dining room, which makes him a bit uneasy, but people who meet him through Brock usually are a bit surprised to realize he’s so young. There’s only a seventeen year gap, but Bucky knows he’s still quite young. Most people don’t expect a forty-year-old professor to have a twenty-three-year-old fiancée at home. Bucky doesn’t mind. Brock doesn’t, so why should he?

He makes the icing once the table is re-set with clean dessert dishes, a simple icing, vanilla and powdered sugar and milk and a bit of orange juice. He drizzles it neatly onto the bundt cake and places it on the table proudly and waits in the kitchen until the men decide they’re hungry again. Steve sits next to Bucky this time. Brock on one side, Steve on the other.

“Shit, this is good,” Steve curses under his breath. The other men are too busy talking about something Bucky doesn’t understand to compliment him, but he doesn’t mind, he doesn’t need to be thanked for doing what’s expected of him. “Is this from, like, scratch?”

“Yeah,” Bucky whispers, grinning a bit. “It’s a recipe I developed. I have a lot of time. I made a lot of lemon blueberry cake this summer and I thought I could adapt it for autumn.”

“Are you gonna eat some? Seriously, this is like… better than bakery quality.”

“Oh, I’m not hungry,” Bucky lies. He’s on a diet. Not a strict one, but he absolutely couldn’t fit a whole slice of cake into his daily calorie allotment. Maybe if he doesn’t eat breakfast or lunch tomorrow, he could have a leftover slice after dinner.

He busies himself in the kitchen, packing up leftovers and wiping down the counters, while the men say their goodbyes. As expected, moments after the door shuts, Brock appears in the kitchen. “You need to clean the floor,” He says, as if that hasn’t been the only thing on Bucky’s mind all evening.

“I will,” Bucky promises earnestly. “Did I do good tonight?”

“Well, darling,” Brock corrects with a little chuckle. “Yes, you did very well. Such a lovely hostess,” he teases, which makes Bucky’s cheeks go a bit pink, he never does like when Brock makes such a point of calling him a woman, but he knows he meant it as a compliment so he doesn’t protest.

“Thank you,” Bucky grins.

“Come to the bedroom once this is all cleaned up, alright?”

“Alright,” Bucky parrots nervously. He’ll have to hurry up his cleaning, Brock gets mad when he thinks Bucky is procrastinating sex. Bucky doesn’t want to be punished tonight. Having to see so many people already exhausted him, and he narrowly escaped a punishment for dropping the sugar all over the kitchen floor.

But still, he presses a polite smile onto his face and nods and Brock leaves him alone to clean. After two passes with a mop, there are only a few sticky streaks left behind. He’ll really scrub it clean tomorrow, but Brock probably won’t notice in the interim.

Bucky reluctantly shuffles up the stairs to the bedroom. Brock is laying down on the bed, laptop balanced on his thighs. Bucky resists the urge to remind him not to wear outside clothes on the fresh comforter, just barely, Brock gets annoyed when he gets all obsessive about that kind of stuff. Bucky perches delicately on the end of the bed and waits for Brock to finish whatever he’s typing up. He rushes Brock, sometimes, because he’s selfish with Brock’s time. He’s trying to get better, though.

Finally, Brock closes his computer and places it on the side table. He looks at Bucky for several tense breaths. Bucky fidgets anxiously. Is something wrong? Is he doing something wrong? He glances down unsurely at what he’s wearing. “I noticed you were doing it again,” Brock finally states.

“Doing what?” Bucky whispers.

“Scratching your arms.”

“I haven’t been,” Bucky defends quickly. His hands immediately go to circle his forearms, he crosses them over his chest protectively.

“I saw you doing it tonight,” Brock says slowly. “Take off your sweater, Jamie. And roll up those sleeves, too.”

Bucky pulls his knit sweater over his head, then bunches up the long sleeves of his dress to his elbows so his forearms are visible. All along his arms, blanketed by a sheer layer of iridescent scars, soft violet bruises blossom alongside irritated-looking scratches, some newer than others. He looks away, embarrassed. He truly didn’t notice he was doing it, it’s been a habit for so long that he rarely registers it. Brock coos with mock-sympathy and sits up a bit, gesturing for Bucky to scoot closer. He does.

“Baby, you need to stop doing that, look how ugly they are. You’re just making it harder for the scars to heal.”

“‘M sorry,” Bucky mumbles. Brock takes him by the wrists, turns his mottled arms this way and that. After a few moments of inspection, Brock drops his arms again and reaches his hands for his belt. “No, please, I’m sorry,” Bucky whispers desperately, shrinking away from his fiancé as discreetly as he can manage.

“Hands out.”

Bucky lifts his hands up, facing the palms toward Brock. They’re trembling, but he knows better than to refuse. Brock carefully folds his belt in half and strikes Bucky’s palms, ten times, in close succession. Bucky flinches, but he never takes his hands away. Brock is right to discipline him. He’s right, he needs to break this habit. It is ugly. He’s ugly. Brock deserves better than that. “Thank you,” he says quickly, as Brock tosses the belt to the side and leans back against the headboard.

“I’m just trying to help you, darling, you know that.”

“I do,” Bucky nods, rubbing his hands up and down his arms. Brock always keeps the house so freezing. Bucky usually doesn’t mind, but he always feels so shaky when Brock makes him get undressed. His fingertips turn all blue.

Brock undoes his pants, spreads his legs to either side of Bucky so he can crawl forward and situate himself on his stomach. He takes Brock’s dick out of his pants and strokes at it a couple times, but it’s already erect. He takes it into his mouth and sucks gently at the head, he wants to prolong this part to hopefully avoid having Brock fuck into the back of his throat for too long. He hates that. One time he got sick, and Brock got so mad, even though Bucky kind of felt, deep down, like it was Brock’s fault. Since then, every time Brock starts gripping onto his hair and thrusting down his throat, he feels panic tugging at his lungs and nausea pooling low in his stomach.

Thankfully, he leaves Bucky in control for most of the blowjob, he lets him wrap his hands around the length left out of his mouth and stroke at it, which keeps him mollified, even if Bucky should try a bit harder to deepthroat him. Before he can come, he lifts Bucky off of his dick. Bucky blinks and sniffles unsurely as oxygen floods into his lungs. He didn’t–

Bucky flinches as a string of come lands over his eye. Another one, in his hair. He breathes shakily and retches shallowly and waits for Brock to be done. Thankfully, Brock isn’t very chatty after sex. He just throws a few tissues at him and starts scrolling through his phone, dick still hanging out of his undone fly. Bucky used to crave intimacy and conversation afterwards but nowadays he’s just so excited to run off to the shower and have a few minutes to himself.

He starts running the shower in the conjoined bathroom before he even starts undressing. He usually likes to let the mirror steam up so he doesn’t have to look at himself more than necessary. It’s not that the dresses and lipstick and frilly blouses don’t make him dysphoric, and he can still see the contours of his body, his chest, his waist, even through the thin layer of steam collected on the mirror, but it makes his evenings just a bit easier.

Sometimes he dares to use Brock’s body wash, the one that smells like, according to the bottle, a volcano, which makes Bucky giggle a bit. Brock rarely notices when he does, and Bucky can usually pass it off rather easily, oh, we’re almost out of mine, if he mentions it. But tonight he doesn’t. Tonight, he scrubs himself down with his apricot-sweet gel and lathers his hair until it’s sleek and shiny with coconut shampoo and conditioner. Sometimes, he tries to buy nice girly things, scents that make him happy, in some lame attempt to convince himself that he can be happy as a woman. That he can embrace it, embrace the delicate femininity Brock so desperately wants him to embody. So far, he hasn’t had much luck.

#bucky barnes #stucky #steve rogers #stevebucky #fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #captain america #bucky barnes fanfiction #catws #winterbones #fanfic #winterbones fanfiction #brock rumlow #bucky x steve #bucky x brock #marvel #marvel fanfic

[six-demon-bag]

hell yeah google i agree he is pretty

#also stop doing stupid edits #my grammar is a vibe #writing #fanfic #fanfiction #i will not be constrained #ao3 #fic #brock rumlow #winterbones #editing #wip #writing wip #work in progress #sixdemon shitpost

[iceandironbars]

So, I have a couple of fic ideas/plots written out and I wanna see which one is the most requested so I can start writing, lemme know what you think

1. HTP One shot. Wholesome/Sitcom Vibe. Taking place in hydra HQ pre CATWS. Characters: babysitter big brain Rumlow, awkward bar hooligan Rollins, Stoopid cinnamon roll Soldier, disgusting old man Pierce. Plot: Rumlow and Rollins find out about Pierce using the Soldier for his personal pleasure behind closed doors and they decide to end that for good.

2. HTP fic, multiple chapters. Explicit, violent, plot heavy, possessive love story/porn vibe. Taking place mainly in Madripoor, post Endgame, pre TFATWS/instead of TFATWS. Characters: clueless bitter prison escapee Zemo, enhanced sugar daddy club owner Rumlow (Lagos explosion didn't happen), mindless and done with life Soldier, several detailed and original side characters. Plot: After refusing to be his handler, Zemo reconsiders and follows the Soldier to Madripoor, finding him in possession of former Hydra Commander Brock Rumlow, who demonstrates Zemo in great detail what being the Soldier's handler entails. A tug of war between the two of them follows, developing into an intricate triangle relationship (sub Soldier, dom Rumlow, switch Zemo).

3. Fic, multiple chapters. Plot heavy, slow burn love story vibe. Taking place in Avengers Tower/Surroundings a year after CATWS. Characters: hopelessly in love badass Soldier, pardoned and disabled ex-hydra Rumlow, annoyed Nick Fury, several Avengers. Plot: The Soldier walks into Avengers tower, apparently without rhyme and reason, a hunt for him follows and due to several failed attempts at and the hopelessness of the mission Nick Fury makes the decision to ask former Hydra Commander Rumlow for help in obtaining him.

4. HTP One shot. Absolute Comedy gold vibe. Takes place in a mission briefing/conversation, location not specified, hypothetical setting. Characters: Doesn't think there's anything wrong with him Rumlow, hands in the cookie jar Rollins, sassy Soldier, Zemo, various avengers. Plot: During a briefing the Soldier dares Rumlow to talk about the Octopus Club, confusion, shock and a hilarious conversation follows.

#winter soldier #bucky barnes #brock rumlow #hydra trash party #marvel #winterbones #hydra #mcu #crossbones #fanfic

[shackleton2]

heed tags! ooo i'm excited this writing team is the shit

#fanfic rec #no powers AU #winterbones #hydra trash party #so flippin excited to read this #fanfic #bucky barnes #winter soldier

[thefudge]

out of curiosity- do you read as much fanfic as you write? how many bookmarks do you have in your ao3/or if you dont tend to bookmark how often would you say you read fanfiction. lol im just so curious bc sometimes i wonder for authors like you who are so talented how could you even read other fics i mean how could it even compare to your own writing like if i had your talent and tried to read other fanfiction i'd be like damn this is trash bye

"i'd be like damn this is trash bye" LMAO ok i cackled a little, this is too funny

SO (lol) i do tend to read less than i write, mostly because i'm pressed for time. but the stuff i do read tends to fall in two categories:

a) amazing stuff that's better than most mainstream publishing from my gallery of bad bitches (ppl like tashiii, arbitrarily, somethingdifferent, sweetsourwolf, Lizzen, yourgirlislovely, wordsmithie, brainyisalwayssexy, isoldewas, winterbones, framboise, cupiscent, allyoops etc.)

b) shippy stuff that i enjoy because of the pairing or trope - so in this case i'm not looking for "great writing", so much as fun ideas/scenarios and more content involving a rarepair, for example. a lot of the times i stumble upon great writing, because ao3 as a rule has more good than bad writing, but even if i don't, i will read a story if it feeds into my hyperfixations lol. that being said, obviously there are times where i am put off and click out, and that usually happens when the characters are too OOC and the reading of them is too shallow to sustain the story, so that i can't enjoy it anymore. but this happens way less on ao3 than, say, ffnet.

anyhoo, thank you for the high praise :*

#replies #fanfic problems #fic recs #yet another occasion to talk about some faves!