#dramA
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shit-hdb-would-say · 2 days ago
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Harry du Bois would say this.
"would you lie to someone if it'd help/protect them?" is such a funny question. buddy I'd lie to someone if it means i get five minutes of peace. I'd lie for a pepsi can. I'd lie for literally no fucking reason. i don't have any psychological issues btw
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give-grian-rights · 6 hours ago
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they hit THE FUCKING PENTAGON. DREAM JUST USED THE R SLUR TO REFER TO TOMMYINNIT FANS
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dailyflicks · 15 hours ago
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THE BEAR (2022) s03e10 - Forever
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rangz-rang · 17 hours ago
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🥹🤌 your sky [2025]
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imawreck · 1 day ago
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Darkness
Pairing: Winter Soldier x Reader
Summary: You're left with flushed cheeks and a shared secret with the darkest part of Bucky Barnes... and you want more.
Author's Note: You guys fucking DEVOURED the last one so this is the sequel to the previous part, His. It makes more sense if you read the other first! If you like this content, drop a comment or an ask and I'll be sure to write more like it in the future! It gets a little feral and I won't apologize for it. Also, there is possibly a part three on the table if this ship sails like the last.
Warnings: Choking kink, metal arm kink, Cursing, mentions self loathing/guilt (it’s Bucky, kinda normal), Possessive!Winter Soldier, hair pulling, fingering, Dominant!Winter Soldier, hickeys, bruising, PnV, praise kink if you squint, licking, oral (fem receiving), knife play (?) and probably some more but those are the big ones.
Word Count: 6,899
It had been two days.
Two days since you’d tried and failed to lure the Winter Soldier into a cell. Two days since you’d felt his hands on your body.
Two days since he’d given you a taste of what you could have.
He’d left his mark on more than just your skin. Though bruises and love bites littered your neck, it was your mind that he’d left the most impact on.
There was hardly a moment you weren’t thinking about him, about Winter. About what would’ve happened if the agents hadn’t stormed the stairwell. If he’d been able to keep going.
And you wondered if you’d ever get another chance to see.
Bucky had recovered, his mind once more his own. You didn’t know if he remembered, or if he would say anything to you even if he did. It’d been radio silence from everyone in the tower other than Steve, who’d been checking in on you to make sure you were really alright. You were sure Thor would be here hounding you if he was on the planet too.
Apparently, the earpiece had fallen out a little after he’d cornered you. So Steve and whoever else that was watching over you didn’t hear much of the conversation you’d exchanged with the assassin. They’d had to rely on the cameras, which hadn’t been able to see you past the wall of a man caging you between his arms.
Which means none of them had seen what had happened, that this was something only you carried the knowledge of. A small part of you was relieved.
That still left one question unanswered: Did Bucky remember?
A sharp knock jolted you from your thoughts, dragging you back to the present. 
Blowing out a breath, you got up and headed towards the door. “Steve, I told you I’m fine. I—“
But when you opened the door, it wasn’t Steve on the other side.
It was strange how different those blue eyes were when it was Bucky at the wheel instead of Winter. Lively, pooling with emotion where you’d seen cold calculation and unbridled lust just days before.
It was guilt swimming in those eyes now, red rimmed and bloodshot. His dark hair was disheveled like he’d been running his fingers through it all afternoon, and he wore a loose pair of sweats and a black long sleeve despite the summer heat.
He looked scared and out of place standing in the hall.
“I—uh, hey.” A poor attempted smile wobbled onto his face, and he brought his flesh hand up to run through his hair—a nervous habit he had when he was uncomfortable or anxious — just like you’d guessed. “Can we talk?”
You opened your mouth to answer him but no words left it. You could only stare up at him and nod, feet shuffling back to pull the door open further.
Bucky’s frame squeezed through the door and he padded further into your space with wandering eyes and furrowed brows.
It was impossible not to notice the changes you’d made in the last few months since your breakup. Bucky used to frequently stay with you, favoring your bright and comforting space over his own empty room. You liked your knick-knacks, and you were a sucker for creature comforts so you always had the softest blankets and the fluffiest pillows. And you’d always made sure Bucky had things he liked in your space.
You used to keep his favorite coffee stocked in the mini breakfast bar you’d made on a bar cart, and his favorite pillow and throw blanket was always neatly folded in the armchair by the window. You’d even set out copies of his favorite books in case he wanted to relax in your room instead of the commons area or his own space. 
But now it was gone. The little pieces of him you’d made room for were removed along with the photos that used to line your walls and bookcase. Save for the one, of course.
And it stung to see the reality of what he’d done, the choice he’d made now reflected in the absence of everything he’d built with you. 
He pried his eyes away from the empty shelves of your bookcase and glanced back at you, shuffling his feet awkwardly. “I… Steve said that I went after you when I got back.”
His statement hung in the air for a few seconds, silence crowding you both and making him tense his shoulders the longer it remained. 
“I’m sorry,” he blurted out, “I can’t imagine how awful that was for you. I-I never wanted you to see me like that. That- He’s not me, okay? God, I’m so sorry.” His fingers scraped over his scalp as he clenched his teeth, turning away and pacing a few steps.
Bucky couldn’t look at you, not after what he’d done. What he’d forced you to witness. He’d never wanted you to see him like that. It was one of his worst nightmares when you had been dating, and now it was a brutal reality.
“Bucky,” you started, but he cut you off.
“Did I hurt you? Did… did I do something to you?”
It struck you then that he didn’t remember what he’d done. What Winter had done. And your room was too dark at the moment to see what remained painted on your skin from the encounter.
You were both relieved, and utterly frustrated. Now what do you do? ‘Oh yeah, Bucky! I let you finger me with your metal arm in a stairwell for shits and giggles while you were all killer mode. No biggie.’ And then what, ask for him to do it again?
Yeah, definitely not.
“You didn’t hurt me, Bucky.” Your legs moved on their own accord, drawn forward by his obvious distress and the instinctual need to sooth his worries. “I’m fine, really.”
Bucky finally turned to face you, his eyes filled with sorrow. He chewed his cheek, his eyes searching your face for any hint of a lie. “I can't remember what happened, there's just glimpses.” His voice lowered, softened by the weight of his words and the fear woven in his tone. “But I can feel him. Stronger than before. Something’s different this time.”
You stilled at that, eyes glued to the side of his face. 
“I can feel what he felt. I-it's like he’s just behind a curtain.” His right arm came up, his index finger tapping his temple, “Waiting.”
The haunted look in his eyes twisted a knife of guilt in your gut. You didn’t want him to feel guilty for what had happened, but it was unfortunately normal for Bucky. You understood it, respected his boundaries and his need to do anything he could to keep you safe. But you wanted exactly what he was keeping from you.
You wanted it so badly.
Could you tell him? Could you confide in him this secret you’d kept from lovers in the past? Something so twisted that you’d only shared it with someone equally as sadistic as you were flawed? Bucky was so much more important to you than any of them had been. You… you felt deeply for him. And it was obvious that the unknown was weighing on him heavily.
One more look at his shattered expression gave you your answer.
With a frustrated huff, you reached for his hand. You tugged it from where it’d curled itself into his hair again, and led him to the edge of your bed. “Bucky,” you started, keeping your voice as gentle as you could. “I need to tell you something. It’s going to be hard to understand, and you’ll probably think very differently of me, but I think it might lessen the burden I can see you’re putting on yourself.”
Bucky’s eyes fixed on you. Those brows furrowed over confused and tortured eyes, but it was obvious that he would listen.
You bit your lip, beginning to sweat as the nerves rattled through you. “First of all, I… I haven’t told anyone this. It’s not something I’m proud of, but rather something that just is. And it didn’t start with you. I mean—,” you let out a sound of frustration, “Fuck, I mean I didn’t date you because of it. It just sort of grew more complicated as we got closer.”
Those brows furrowed more and twisted his face into more concern than anything.
You kept going. “When you came after me, I was scared. Of course I would be.” You winced at the hurt that flashed in his eyes, but continued on, “But I also… I liked it.” 
A shaky, bitter laugh left you. “I liked the chase. I liked it when he cornered me against the wall, when he—,” you paused, a feeling akin to resignation and begrudging acceptance settling into your bones. Your eyes found his metal hand, gazing at the light bouncing off the silver metal. “When he choked me with that hand.”
You buried your face in your palms, tears of shame threatening to leak from your eyes. “You didn’t hurt me. He didn’t hurt me, Bucky. He just brought to light these things I thought I’d kept from you.” 
With another breath, one that felt like needles sinking into your lungs, you went on. “He made me feel good, Buck, in all the ways I’d always hoped you would someday. I feel like the worst person in the world for thinking that, for feeling the way I do, but I can’t help it.”
You couldn’t meet his eyes. Shame was writhing in your stomach and threatening to consume you. Tears pricked your eyes and wet your palms that still remained pressed to your face. 
Bucky didn’t say a word, and you just let the silence thicken the air. You’d already said everything there was to say.
Your sin was bared for his judgment. “I get that you don’t want to be with me anymore—“
“That’s a lie.”
Your head snapped up at that, teary eyes wide as you took in his surprised expression. An expression you watched morph into confusion, and then something else. Realization, maybe.
Bucky went on, “I never wanted to stop being with you, Y/N.”
A piece of you settled deep in your soul at that confession, and you leaned in to listen. Every word from his lips an answer to the question haunting your every thought for the past three months.
“On that mission, we came across intel that there might be a mole in the tower and that they were going to try and trigger the Winter Soldier. I… I was scared, Y/N.” Grief washed over his face as he folded his hands together, knuckles turning white. “I was so scared that you’d see me like that and be afraid of me. I was terrified of hurting you, of— of killing you, that I had to make it look like you didn’t matter to me. I had to make it real, so that whoever saw you and I would think you didn’t matter and leave you alone. I was trying to make you less of a target.”
Your heart thundered in your chest at his confession, at the thought that these past two months of utter disaster had been the result of Bucky trying to protect you from himself. 
“You could’ve talked to me,” you muttered, sniffing and wiping your face in a poor attempt to rid it of the mascara you knew had run. “You could’ve told me what was going on.”
Bucky’s head shook, “There wasn’t time. You have to understand.”
You nodded, even if you didn’t truly understand. The guilt and remorse on his face told you he was on the edge of crumbling, and if agreeing with him kept him from breaking, you’d give it to him.
Another long silence blanketed the two of you. You watched his face, his eyes, as his mind mulled over the information you had exchanged with him.
Those blue eyes found your’s after a while, something steely in them that wasn’t there before. “Friday?”
The AI of Stark Tower answered politely, “Yes, Mr. Barnes?”
“Initiate Soldier Protocol in Y/N’s room and cut camera feed. Don’t alert anyone.”
Soldier Protocol. 
Your eyes widened, and a chill ran over your skin. Soldier Protocol was something Bucky had come up with when you’d first started dating. It was a safety protocol installed into yours and his own room to ensure that if the Winter Soldier was triggered, it would keep whoever was in the room safe, or keep whoever was trying to get inside from entering. It was a double edged sword, really, because if you were trapped in the room with him, then you couldn’t get out. Bucky had made sure to teach you some basic self defense moves on the very slim chance that would ever happen and had shown you ways that you could use to evade and make an escape to the bathroom if needed. Even though you’d thought of all the holes in the protocol, you couldn’t bear to voice them if it helped ease Bucky’s nerves knowing that if something were to happen, that you’d have an extra wall to keep him from getting to you.
“Confirm Command; Soldier Protocol, Miss Y/N?”
You hesitated, voice wavering just the slightest as you whispered, “Are you sure?”
Bucky nodded slowly, giving you the confidence you needed to answer the AI.
“Confirm Soldier Protocol, Friday. No alerts or cameras.”
The calming voice answered once more. “Command Confirmed. Soldier Protocol initiated.”
Your eyes followed the windows as metal safety doors shut out the dim light of the day. One after another they locked out the outside world and left the two of you inside the confines of your bedroom. 
You and Bucky, and your confessions.
“He wants out, Y/N.” It was barely a whisper, but the low timbre of Bucky’s voice reverberated in your bones. “He wants you.”
There was concern laced in his words, but there was also more. So much more that you knew you’d have to talk about later. You’d have time to unpack all of this, what it means for the two of you, later. Right now?
Right now you needed Winter as desperately as you needed air.
“What… How can I help you, Bucky?” Your hands shook at the thought of Winter's return. Of what it would bring.
Bucky pulled his lip between his teeth, his hands running through his hair before twisting themselves in his lap. His eyes were wide, as if he didn’t quite believe he would say the words spilling from his own mouth. “I want you to trigger the Winter Soldier. Feeling him there— it’s driving me mad. An-and now that we know he won’t hurt you and that you… you want him—.”
You reached for his hand, concerned that if he kept squeezing them as tight as he was that he’d break bone. “Bucky, it’s okay.” You tilted your head, smiling softly at him, “Take a breath. There’s a few things I want to set straight before we jump into this.”
His voice lowered, “Okay.”
Bucky was obviously torn up over this whole thing. And as excited as you were to repeat what went on in that stairwell, this was someone you cared about for more than just sex. 
This was Bucky. 
This was the man who’d apologized with the biggest bouquet of flowers you’d ever laid eyes on the day after your first encounter with Winter. The same man who’d apologized for months after with cute little notes and trinkets he knew you loved and still kept in that shoebox under your bed. The exact same man you’d opened your heart to one Saturday night over a tub of butterscotch ice cream and the third playthrough of your favorite movie. He didn’t complain that you’d watched it back to back either.
This was the man you’d fallen in love with in just a few short months.
The realization settled into your heart, and that warm tingly feeling swept over you as you tightened your hold on his flesh hand and reached for his metal one too.
Bucky hesitated, jerking it away for a moment before allowing you to tug it into your lap. “Buck,” you started, thumbs swiping over his hands in slow calming paths. “It isn’t just the Winter Soldier I like about you. You know that, right? Because if you don’t, I’ve failed as your lover. And as your friend.” 
Those blue eyes darted between your own, searching there like a man searching for salvation. You gave his hands another squeeze, swallowing the lump in your throat. “I… I love you, Bucky. You. I think I’ve known for a while now. I was just too scared to admit it out loud. I haven’t had the best run with guys in the past, and you’re so good that I was afraid I’d ruin you somehow.”
Your eyes fell to your joined hands, and this time he was the one to squeeze back.
“I know it’s kind of shitty timing, but I need you to understand that I’m not with you for any other reason other than the simple fact that I adore you, Bucky Barnes. Everything about you.” You shook your head, frowning. “I meant it when I told you I wasn’t with you just because of Winter. I’ve always had this attraction to… well, you know. Dating you just made it more difficult to hide when you were obviously so uncomfortable with it. I didn’t want to make things hard for you. I just wanted you to be happy.”
“Doll,” he mumbled, the name drawing your eyes to him. You’d always loved it when he called you that. “Say it again.”
You frowned, confused for a moment, before a small smile drew itself onto your face. “I love you, Bucky.”
A choked sound fell from his lips before his arms circled around your waist and pulled you into his lap, his face inches from yours. “Again. Say it again,” he begged, his  breath fanned over your face as his fingers fisted the back of your shirt. “Please, doll, say it again.”
You folded your legs around his hips, threading your fingers into his hair and peppering kisses on his face. “I love you.”
“Me?” It was the most broken sound you’d ever heard.
You grabbed his face, tilting it up to look at you and tried your best to pour every ounce of love into your expression. “You, James. I love you. I’ll say it a billion times if I have to until I get it through that ridiculously handsome head of yours.”
He laughed at that, broken as it sounded. “I love you too, Y/N. God, I fucking love you.”
Soft lips crashed into yours, dancing a familiar dance as his flesh hand slipped under your shirt and glided up your spine. Your breath caught as the cool sensation of his metal fingers followed after it, his arm wrapping around your back. You smiled against his lips, leaning into him more.
You nearly pouted when he pulled away.
“Y/N,” those eyes, less uncertain and more determined now, swept over your face. “I want you to trigger him.”
You frowned, “But Bucky, you—.”
“I need this.” His voice was surprisingly steady, “I need to do this otherwise it’ll drive me mad. Feeling him there— Jesus, it’s like someone’s scraping a knife against my skull.”
Metal fingers drew circles against your back, “Are you okay with… with seeing him again? I’m not confident enough to do what he did yet. I need more time to come to terms with the damage this hand has done.” He pulled the appendage away, looking it over before his eyes found you again. “But I… I can tell he won’t hurt you. I can feel it,” he pulled his flesh hand away and pressed it over his heart. “Right here.”
He laughed, almost incredulously. “Even the Winter Soldier has fallen in love with you.”
All you could hear was the pounding of your heart in your ears. He wanted you to trigger the Winter Soldier. He said that he loved you, and that Winter did too. 
It would really fucking suck if you were dreaming.
“I don’t know your words,” you mumbled, suddenly shy in the light of his proclamation.
This time, the smile he gave was one that reminded you of those old photos from the 40s you’d seen in the history museum. The one where the left side crooks up a bit more than the right. He didn’t release you, but instead wrapped his left arm around your hips and leaned back to rifle through the top drawer of your nightstand for the notepad you always left in there.
He pulled it back to himself and released you only long enough to scribble down a few words and tear off the page. “You’ll have to memorize them. I don’t want them to leave this room.”
You nodded, because of course he wouldn’t and you’d rather swallow hot coals than ever betray him. Your eyes scanned the page a dozen times when he handed it to you, lips moving in silence as you played with the foreign vowels. 
All the while those strong hands of his trailed along your back and hips, sometimes exploring your upper thigh. 
It made your mind foggy, and you had to keep yourself from squinting to focus.
After you’d finally memorized them, you remove yourself from Bucky’s lap and padded over to your bookcase. You snagged the candle lighter from a shelf, and then removed the bag from your trash bin. It took a few tries, but once the lighter ignited, you let the flames eat away at the page before dropping it into the bin and watching until it was nothing but ash at the bottom.
You could hear a breath of relief leave the soldier from where he remained seated at the edge of your bed. He looked somewhat relaxed, but a tension still ran along his shoulders.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” You returned to the bed, smiling a bit as his arms wrapped around the back of your thighs.
Bucky hummed, low and steady. “M’sure, Doll.” He leaned his head against your stomach, and your hands found his hair on instinct.
He hummed again at the touch, and his arms tightened around your legs before he lifted you. Bucky turned quickly, one knee coming up onto the bed before he laid you down with a thump on the mattress.
You smiled, laughing a little as you bounced from the sudden drop. Bucky grinned back, his eyes shining. “Missed you, you know. I’m sorry for not telling you.” He leaned over you, hands planting on either side of your head. Nothing but honesty shined in those blue eyes as he looked down at you. “I’m sorry for wasting three months, and I promise I won’t do that again.”
Butterflies stirred in your belly, and you could feel the flush of heat on your neck as you leaned up and planted a kiss on his lips, “Better not.” 
Before you could think much of it, Bucky reached over and flicked the lamp on. You were too busy feeling fuzzy inside that you’d forgotten the very prominent marks littering the delicate flesh of your neck.
Marks that would always make Bucky drown in guilt.
“Fuck, doll.” 
He stared at your neck, horror painting his face in the lamplight. His body lifted until he was sitting on his knees over you, hands resting on his lap like he didn’t know what to do with them as he took in the damage he’d left.
This is exactly what you didn’t want to happen. “Hey, no—,” you gripped the front of his shirt, the sudden motion catching him off guard as you pulled yourself up to his face, forcing him to look you in the eyes. You would’ve liked to yank him back over you, but you lacked the ability to battle his serum-enhanced strength. Sitting up did just fine.
“You don’t get to feel guilty for this. Not now, and not anytime after this if you… if we’re serious about doing this.” You stared him down, unwilling to allow him even a glance away. “I told you, I liked it. I told you that it didn’t hurt. You need to trust me as much as I trust you in this. That’s the only way this,” you motioned between you both, “is going to work.” You lowered your voice, nearly mumbling the last part. “I can’t take another step back, Buck. Not after three months, and definitely not after that.”
Bucky’s eyes danced between yours for a few moments. They darted down to your marred skin and back again several times before he blew out a breath and nodded reluctantly. 
Your shoulders eased too. 
“Now come back here and kiss me, soldier. Your girl’s in need.” You smiled, quirking a playful brow in an attempt to draw him back in.
It worked. That smile pulled at his lips, small at first but quickly blooming as you began peppering his jaw with kisses.
The kisses started gentle and exploring, and the touches soft and sweet. You hadn’t felt his skin against yours for three long months, save for two days ago, and you’d missed everything that made him Bucky.
You’d missed how the stubble of his chin brushed your cheeks when you kissed, and how he held your face like you were the most precious thing he’d ever touched. Delicate and worthy of worship.
You’d missed him so much it hurt.
“Bucky,” you panted, tugging his shirt as you kissed him. “I love you.”
A deep, rumbling groan left him, and his tongue swept across your bottom lip. “I love you, Y/N. So damn much.”
His flesh hand cupped the back of your neck and guided your head to the side so he could place the tenderest kisses over each hickey Winter had left. “He’s a brute,” Bucky mumbled against the column of your throat, stealing your breath. “If he hurts you–.”
“He won’t, James.” You pressed your forehead to his shoulder, biting your lip as his flesh hand trailed all the way from your neck to the base of your spine. “I know it.”
You only got a hum in response before his lips crashed into yours again. Bucky’s hands were everywhere, confident and warm on one side and tentative and gentle with the other, much colder one. The contrast sent delicious tingles along your skin wherever he touched and only served to heighten your anticipation.
This was the first time Bucky himself had allowed so much of a brush of his metal arm against you, let alone tender touch.
His palms mapped every dip and crest of your body, his touch growing more needy with each sweep of his skin against yours. His tongue slid over your lips again, a silent request that you were all too happy to accept.
You couldn’t help the satisfied sound that escaped you as the taste of him swept over you, familiar and strong. Things only hastened from there. It was like a switch had flipped and he couldn’t bear not to have his hands on you.
He kissed you hard, chasing you with lips and tongue like a man starved. The feather light touches of his hands turned more firm as he held your hips and pulled you closer. Bucky’s chest heaved, his breaths fanning over you between kisses in hot puffs.
You could tell he was still holding back. That he needed this as much as the burning need in your core told you that you did. “Bucky,” the sound was practically a whine, “Please.”
His fingers curled against your hips, “Fuck. Okay, okay.” Wet kisses were trailed down your neck as his hands slipped beneath your shirt to sweep calloused thumbs over your aching nipples. “Say them, doll. Say the words.”
You deserved a fucking gold metal for succeeding to pull your mind out of the fog he’d clouded your brain with. It always happened with him. Your mind just short circuited every time he cast you a heated glance, and this? Well, it was a miracle you could remember your own name.
You opened your mouth, the words you’d memorized tumbling out one after another. 
“Longing.” Bucky grunted, but didn’t stop in his ministrations as you spoke the next. 
“Rusted.” Another grunt, and a tremor through his shoulders, but his lips never left your skin. In fact, it just seemed to spur him further as his hands tugged your shirt down to reveal the delicate skin of your breasts.
“Furn-,” you gasped as his lips locked onto a nipple, tongue teasing expertly over the nub. “Furnace.”
The hum he released sent skittering tingles across your body in the most delicious way.
“Finish, baby.” 
Fucking hell. What was the next word?
“Daybreak,” his hands lowered to your ass and held it firmly against him as he licked and sucked the sensitive skin of your breasts, never missing a beat. “Seventeen.”
Those devilish hands dragged lower, fingers trailing along the seam of your panties through your leggings and along the underside of your thighs where they met the curve of your ass. Inches from where you needed him most.
You could barely suck in a breath, utterly overwhelmed by the sensation of his mouth on your skin and those hands mapping your body in agonizingly slow strokes that sent waves of need straight to your core. “Benign,” his body arched over yours, easing you into the mattress, “Nine.”
Another shudder this time, and you could see the ripple of muscle beneath that tight black shirt. God did you want it off of him.
“Homecoming.” 
A groan, and a shake of his head. It was the first indicator that he was uncomfortable.
 You hesitated at the pained sound, but you didn’t have time to ask a thing though. Not when his head snapped up and those wide, wild blue eyes found yours. “Don’t stop,” he panted, cheeks flushed.
So you didn’t.
“One.”
Wet lips trailed kisses down the exposed skin of your stomach, the tips of his dark hair trailing down as he kissed past your naval and kept going. Lower, lower, lower…
“Freight Car.” The words sounded strangled in your throat through your labored breathing.
The kisses stopped abruptly, and Bucky’s body went stock still.
You weren’t even sure he was breathing until the even rush of an exhale swept against your stomach.
And then he chuckled.
 It wasn’t the kind you’d normally hear from Bucky. It wasn’t filled with joy, or playfulness. This one sounded depraved and downright corrupt.
The hairs on your neck raised, and that sharp bite of panic jolted through you as you stared down at his large frame hovering over you. You couldn’t see his face from this angle, and the lack of any hint of what was going through his head only heightened the tension building in your body.
“Told you, didn’t I?” His voice was a rumble in the silence, and you gasped when his tongue swept a path up the center of your belly. “You fucking need me.”
Cold fingers hooked the waistband of your leggings and shucked them off in one quick motion, the cool air assaulting your exposed skin and leaving goosebumps in its wake. You simply stared up at him and tried to remember to breathe beneath the weight of his eyes on your body.
Those cold, lust-lidded eyes.
“Winter,” you breathed, a thrum of excitement mingling with the nerves tingling under your skin. The ache you felt was at the forefront of your mind. Bucky’s gentle touches had served to stir the need that was already brewing.
Now, Winter has come to finish the job.
He smiled, slow and sultry. “Needy little thing, aren't you, Dollface?”
You bit your lip as heat crept up your neck.
Winter’s body rose to his knees, his hands curling around your thighs in a bruising grip and lifting them over his shoulders. You yelped, but it didn’t stop him. Those thick corded forearms locked your legs in place over his shoulders, his face centimeters from your core and the stubble of his jaw tickling your thighs.
You were almost certain you'd soaked through the thin pair of panties you wore.
His hands dragged up your thighs, fingers slipping beneath the fabric at your hips as he held your eyes. 
And then he ripped them at the seams. The puny fabric fell to the mattress in tatters, and all you could do was gawk at him.
“Don’t wear those when you’re with me.” Winter ordered against your thigh, his tongue swiping a path up the inner stripe of skin. 
The action sent another wave of want through you, the anticipation of what he was going to do serving to build your nerves higher and higher.
He drew you closer by your hips, humming against your skin. The sweep of hot air over you was a welcome sensation and you arched into it. Your heart pounded, and the angle in which your body was held, your head still resting against the mattress along with your shoulders, made it hard to think. 
Winter stopped just short of brushing his lips over your sensitive clit. You could’ve cried right then and there. Blinking up at him, you caught the wicked grin plastered on his face.
The soldier above you looked downright god-like bathed in the dim light of the room. His eyes gleamed, and that silver arm danced with every move he made. Every devious stroke of cool fingers against your body.
You knew this exact image would be carved into your mind for the rest of your life.
“Beg for it,” he ordered, his grip turning nearly bruising. “Tell me how badly you want it.” His lips brushed your core, just a whisper of scruff on your sensitive skin. 
You squirmed in response, chasing the feeling. Normally, you would rather die than beg a man for anything. But Winter? He had a special way of breaking you down. “Please, Winter, please. I-I want you. I want you to–.”
He didn’t even let you finish before his tongue delved into your core. 
You felt every sweep, every brush of that expert muscle laving over you. Desperate, needy sounds were echoing through your room, and a part of you knew they were yours. That they were spilling from your parted lips in broken sentences begging him for more. You were too focused on where his tongue toyed with you to care about anything else, though. Every pass of his tongue on your clit, or a sweep against your clenching walls made it harder and harder to ground yourself.
You were crawling closer and closer to the edge.
Your fingers were curled into the bedspread, and your hips ground into his face and bucked against the solid grip of his arms over your thighs. Winter groaned into your heat, the rumbling vibrations pushing you closer to euphoria.
Dazed, you tried to focus on his face, tried to make out his features in your love-drunk state. 
Winter's eyes were closed, and his face never came up once for air. Not even when you could feel his chest shuttering, and those muffled grunts became more frequent.
And God did they feel good.
Your chest heaved, your legs trying and failing to move an inch against his iron grip. As those vibrating groans shoved you over the edge with a cry.
Your brain couldn’t focus, not with all the blood rushing through your head and the thundering sound of your own heart in your ears, or the blissful sensation of release crashing over you in waves. 
“So dirty, Dollface. Letting me ruin you like this.” Winter eased his grip on your shaky legs, his hands dragging up your thighs to grip your hips. “Letting me brand you, taste you…” He licked his lips, tasting you on his stubbled face. His body leaned forward, your legs parting around his hips as he planted a burning kiss to your lips, “Fucking perfect.”
You panted, blinking to focus on his words as you came back to yourself.
Winter was lifting himself off of you, his eyes raking over your disheveled form as he slipped off the bed and stood to his full height. Those blue eyes held nothing but burning desire, muscles flexing as he yanked off his shirt and rewarded you with the view of his sweat slicked torso. 
The sight was erotic. His hair damp with sweat, and his face glossy with the remnants of your release, chest heaving as he sucked in much needed air.
Winter reached forward, his cool fingers wrapping around your ankle and tugging you towards the edge of the bed with a wicked grin. “Gonna make you come again, Dollface. Need to hear those pretty sounds you make.” His flesh hand grabbed your calf, pulling you closer. “Wanna hear my name on your lips again, and again, and again.”
His metal fingers gripped your thigh hard enough to leave bruises, but that didn’t bother you. You loved the reminders that littered your skin from the last time Winter branded you with his affections, and you relished each one that would follow. 
With a quick, strong motion, he flipped you on your stomach. Your chest bounced against the bedsheets, the friction against your pebbled nipples sent a jolt of pleasure down to your toes making you moan into the comforter as he brought your hips up and adjusted your knees against the bed.
“Fuck, you’re gorgeous.” He panted, pressing himself against your ass.
You could feel him through the sweats still hanging from his hips. The length of him pressed firmly against you, brushing your sensitive core and making you groan again. You wanted to feel him, needed to know what it was like to be with Winter the same way you craved intimacy with his counterpart.
“Please,” You begged. 
With a grunt, the sweats were yanked down and he thrust harshly, seating himself completely in one swift motion.
His moan rumbles through you, setting your nerves alight. “Oh god…”
And then he starts moving. 
One stark difference between James Buchanan Barnes and The Winter Soldier, was that one was gentle and kind, and everything you’d want in the man you’d take home to meet your parents. And the other? The other was the kind of man that would carve his name into your skin with a smile and defile you in unspeakable ways, rough and raw.
Winter snapped his hips at a breakneck pace, pulling out only to plunge back in with a force that made you see stars. Your mouth hung open in a silent scream, clinging to the sheets as he drove you into the mattress. His cock hit all the right places, those quick, constant motions driving you closer and closer to another release. His grunts and puffs of breath only added momentum.
Tears pricked your eyes, your heart hammering and your skin on fire as pleasure coursed through you, building higher and higher.
A cold palm slipped along your belly, snaking its way between your breasts and firmly wrapping around your neck, squeezing those delicate pressure points that made your head spin. He lifted you from the mattress, his pace halting almost completely as your back met his heaving chest. 
Winter’s raw voice met your ears as you whimpered at the loss of friction, teetering on the edge of sanity as your core wept for attention. “Gonna cum if I keep that up, Dollface.” His voice is choppy, puffs of air hitting the side of your neck as he talks. “Feel so fuckin’ good.”
His dick pushes in again, dragging slowly along your walls as he groans in your ear, your own voice joining him in a broken harmony. “‘M gonna need this every time. Need to feel your tight cunt, hear your pretty cries…” His tongue darted out to slide over your cheek, swiping up a tear that had fallen from your damp lashes, “Taste you every. Single. Time.”
Those hips snapped back into their brutal pace, slamming against your ass as he clutched your frail neck in his metal hand, the other coming up to grip your hair and tug your head back as he sucked more love bites along your neck.
You moan, tears of pleasure falling from your lashes as you near the edge. Winter’s grunts and shaky breath vaguely registering that he’s nearly there himself.
He sinks his teeth into the juncture of your neck, the combination of pain and utter pleasure shoving you over the precipice as you open your mouth in a scream. That metal hand snakes up to stifle it as his hips jerk a few more agonizing thrusts before shuddering with his strangled moan.
You’re left limp and breathless, utterly spent and draped over his arm with your head lolling against his strong and heaving shoulder.
Winter slips from you, repositioning you on the bed like an offering on an unholy altar. With his hair plastered against his forehead, those dark strands utterly soaked with sweat, he smiles down at you.
“Again.”
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yeesiine · 2 days ago
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Sometimes all you need is quiet, no phones, no people, no drama, just quiet.
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fgadfanpage · 13 hours ago
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(⁠●⁠’⁠3⁠)⁠♡⁠(⁠ε⁠`⁠●⁠)
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You know, that feeling.
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e-vay · 2 days ago
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Hi!! First of all, I'm a BIG fan of yours and I love your work! My question is, do you still have your first reference sheet or your first design ideas for Aurora? Or maybe the names you have thought to give her? I'd love to know more about our girl!
Thank you so very much! I really appreciate that 🥰
A long time ago I posted a compilation of Aurora's designs throughout the years. She started out pink, then she was purple, then powder blue, then back to pink haha.
I'll give you the full rundown of Aurora's history but it's not all sunshine and rainbows, so buckle up!
When I very first started drawing her, her personality and background were COMPLETELY different. She was more of a reflection of all the shit I was going through at the time and she was my coping mechanism (🎶childhood trauma🎶). She was from a mechanoid, dystopian future and she was orphaned at a young age, so she was a very jaded character. She ended up traveling back in time and actually getting to meet Sonic and Amy (during the time we see them in the games), but she was really bitter and resentful towards them. I only have this one scan of a drawing from that era, I lost everything else:
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I really do not know when this was drawn, but based on the art style and trying to recall what my living situation was like at the time, I am guessing this was probably around 2001.
Then between 2004-2006, things in my life started to drastically change again and so I don’t know, I guess I decided to reevaluate things? I don’t remember a lot from this time —again, childhood trauma—so I don’t remember exactly what sparked the change. But I think I was like "Wait a minute, Sonic and Amy and Aurora don't deserve this. I’ve been making this all about me. Let me try again." So then I rebuilt Aurora the proper way, thinking about what traits she’d inherit from her parents and the way they would raise her, and thinking about just how fun a family the three of them would be (because the ideals of “fun” and “adventure” are so important to both Sonic and Amy so of course they would make for a fun family). So that’s where her personality and relationship with Sonic and Amy became what you know it as today.
I fell out of the Sonic phase for awhile and was focused on other interests for several years, and then around 2014 I came back to Aurora and that’s where I ended up with her current design. Even then I was experimenting with her interests and motivations, and this is when I gave her the power of light. It just seemed to really suit her and I thought both Sonic and Amy are just such pure sources of light and love that it made sense for it to physically manifest as a power in her.
The one thing that's never changed was her name. She was always named Aurora, even from the very beginning.
I know this was a LOT of personal info about my own life, but my history played a huge part in the initial concept of Aurora which is so insanely different from the Aurora you all know, so that’s why I figured I’d explain.
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365filmsbyauroranocte · 22 hours ago
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A Real Pain (Jesse Eisenberg, 2024)
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kaizsche · 3 days ago
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That's not it either. Let's refrain from these burdensome titles. Think of something else. MOON LOVERS: SCARLET HEART RYEO (2016)
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casualwonderlanddreaming · 2 days ago
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Always a joy to watch. ☺️
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★ countdown to christmas (take two) ★ day 21 of 24: bridget jones's diary (2001)
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keepscrollinghun · 2 days ago
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OUT OF THE BLUE ↳ (1980) dir. Dennis Hopper
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rangz-rang · 2 days ago
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Yang Zi as Mu Dan Flourished Peony - 2025
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moviesiverecentlywatched · 7 hours ago
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940: Once Upon A Time... In Hollywood [2019]
Yeah.
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QUENTIN TARANTINO RANKED: 9th - Once Upon a Time…in Hollywood (2019)
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welcome-to-ratterrock · 11 hours ago
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🐀Ratterrock Update!🐁
CH 1: DARK PATHS 4-6
Updates:
🌹 Tapas
🌹 ComicFury
Read ahead on Patreon!
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