posted 1 month ago with 41,777 notes
Choke. Bury. Fuck. Repeat. | wipe-away-the-red    (x)

testsubjectnumber14:

wipe-away-the-red:

Natasha let out a noise, something between a whimper and a groan, teeth beginning to clench. This was so wrong, so wrong. She kept telling herself that it wasn’t supposed to happen this way. Natasha felt his metallic hand pin her arms above her head, and he whispered for her to relax. She knew then that was it. Natasha kept telling herself that this wasn’t him. This wasn’t James Buchanan Barnes, her James. This was countless years of brainwashing and torture.

She trembled slightly, realizing that she had never felt so powerless. “Stop, James—!” She was beginning to become more frantic, more afraid. The worst part was that it wasn’t a stranger, or a menace; it was him. And, it wasn’t him.

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posted 1 month ago with 35 notes
posted 1 month ago with 80 notes
Choke. Bury. Fuck. Repeat. | wipe-away-the-red (x)

Natasha let out a noise, something between a whimper and a groan, teeth beginning to clench. This was so wrong, so wrong. She kept telling herself that it wasn’t supposed to happen this way. Natasha felt his metallic hand pin her arms above her head, and he whispered for her to relax. She knew then that was it. Natasha kept telling herself that this wasn’t him. This wasn’t James Buchanan Barnes, her James. This was countless years of brainwashing and torture.

She trembled slightly, realizing that she had never felt so powerless. “Stop, James—!” She was beginning to become more frantic, more afraid. The worst part was that it wasn’t a stranger, or a menace; it was him. And, it wasn’t him.

posted 1 month ago with 35 notes

the avengers meme: [3/4] otps→Clintasha

posted 1 month ago with 1,337 notes
Choke. Bury. Fuck. Repeat. | wipe-away-the-red (x)

testsubjectnumber14:

wipe-away-the-red:

testsubjectnumber14:

wipe-away-the-red:

testsubjectnumber14:

wipe-away-the-red:

testsubjectnumber14:

wipe-away-the-red:

Natasha watched his face as his eyes moved over her body, she she suddenly felt her skin burn. Scantily clad as she was, it was like he could see through every part of her clothing. Natasha wasn’t one to ever be modest around men whose eyes roamed her body, but right now, she felt like a shy young girl. “Я не знаю, что вы думали обо мне как о.” She responded, voice low, leaning into his touch. Bucky’s lips caressed the sinewy soft flesh of her neck, and Natasha let out a small breath through gently parted lips. Swallowing hard, she licked her lips, eyes fluttering a bit as his teeth grazed her ear. “Джеймс …” His name slid off her tongue, and she leaned towards him, feeling warm and heavy, a small worry pulsating somewhere in the back of her mind. She couldn’t pay mind to that now, though; not with Bucky so close to her, his breath on her skin. “Просто чуть старые времена, назад, когда я думал, что я балерина…”

Bucky let his hand roam her body, wrapping his arm around her waist before pulling her body against his. He gave her little kisses that started from the base of her neck and finished with one just next to her lips.

“Балерина, смертельный убийца и обучение шпион. Кроме того, мой Вдова, не так ли?” He whispered, pressing his lips against hers.

She let out a deep breath, slowly, as his lips pressed to her skin in a slow trail to the corner of her lips. He spoke softly, just as he used to during all those practices in the Red Room. He would train her, have her pinned to the floor, and he would lean down and give her a kiss, whisper things only for her to hear. God, those days, she wished for nothing more. Those days when she was so blind by the brainwashing, she thought her life was just that.

It wasn’t his fault. Even after she found out the truth and ran away, she reminded herself that it wasn’t Bucky’s fault. God, Natasha had missed him. Under it all, she knew she was only coming around because she missed him. In every sense of the word, she missed him. This was him— soft kisses and warm breath that trickled words like music. She feared the other parts of him, the metal cool against her skin reminded her of that. But she missed him. “Я был всегда за вами. Я был молод и в одиночку, но я был ваш.”

Natasha embraced his kiss, and suddenly, she was lost again. She was a ballerina again. Sliding her hands up, one resting on his chest an the other gliding across his cheek, into his hair. She kissed him, letting him lean into her, the black silk of her robe sliding between them. She could feel the warmth of his skin as he pressed closer to her, and she fell back into the couch.

By the moment she returned his kiss, Bucky couldn’t think straight anymore. During his time as the Winter Soldier, while he had no memory of his life as a regular american boy, Natasha was the only good thing he had. Until she disappeared.

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posted 1 month ago with 35 notes
Choke. Bury. Fuck. Repeat. | wipe-away-the-red (x)

testsubjectnumber14:

wipe-away-the-red:

testsubjectnumber14:

wipe-away-the-red:

testsubjectnumber14:

wipe-away-the-red:

Natasha watched his face as his eyes moved over her body, she she suddenly felt her skin burn. Scantily clad as she was, it was like he could see through every part of her clothing. Natasha wasn’t one to ever be modest around men whose eyes roamed her body, but right now, she felt like a shy young girl. “Я не знаю, что вы думали обо мне как о.” She responded, voice low, leaning into his touch. Bucky’s lips caressed the sinewy soft flesh of her neck, and Natasha let out a small breath through gently parted lips. Swallowing hard, she licked her lips, eyes fluttering a bit as his teeth grazed her ear. “Джеймс …” His name slid off her tongue, and she leaned towards him, feeling warm and heavy, a small worry pulsating somewhere in the back of her mind. She couldn’t pay mind to that now, though; not with Bucky so close to her, his breath on her skin. “Просто чуть старые времена, назад, когда я думал, что я балерина…”

Bucky let his hand roam her body, wrapping his arm around her waist before pulling her body against his. He gave her little kisses that started from the base of her neck and finished with one just next to her lips.

“Балерина, смертельный убийца и обучение шпион. Кроме того, мой Вдова, не так ли?” He whispered, pressing his lips against hers.

She let out a deep breath, slowly, as his lips pressed to her skin in a slow trail to the corner of her lips. He spoke softly, just as he used to during all those practices in the Red Room. He would train her, have her pinned to the floor, and he would lean down and give her a kiss, whisper things only for her to hear. God, those days, she wished for nothing more. Those days when she was so blind by the brainwashing, she thought her life was just that.

It wasn’t his fault. Even after she found out the truth and ran away, she reminded herself that it wasn’t Bucky’s fault. God, Natasha had missed him. Under it all, she knew she was only coming around because she missed him. In every sense of the word, she missed him. This was him— soft kisses and warm breath that trickled words like music. She feared the other parts of him, the metal cool against her skin reminded her of that. But she missed him. “Я был всегда за вами. Я был молод и в одиночку, но я был ваш.”

Natasha embraced his kiss, and suddenly, she was lost again. She was a ballerina again. Sliding her hands up, one resting on his chest an the other gliding across his cheek, into his hair. She kissed him, letting him lean into her, the black silk of her robe sliding between them. She could feel the warmth of his skin as he pressed closer to her, and she fell back into the couch.

By the moment she returned his kiss, Bucky couldn’t think straight anymore. During his time as the Winter Soldier, while he had no memory of his life as a regular american boy, Natasha was the only good thing he had. Until she disappeared.

Read More

posted 2 months ago with 35 notes
Choke. Bury. Fuck. Repeat. | wipe-away-the-red (x)

testsubjectnumber14:

wipe-away-the-red:

testsubjectnumber14:

wipe-away-the-red:

Natasha watched his face as his eyes moved over her body, she she suddenly felt her skin burn. Scantily clad as she was, it was like he could see through every part of her clothing. Natasha wasn’t one to ever be modest around men whose eyes roamed her body, but right now, she felt like a shy young girl. “Я не знаю, что вы думали обо мне как о.” She responded, voice low, leaning into his touch. Bucky’s lips caressed the sinewy soft flesh of her neck, and Natasha let out a small breath through gently parted lips. Swallowing hard, she licked her lips, eyes fluttering a bit as his teeth grazed her ear. “Джеймс …” His name slid off her tongue, and she leaned towards him, feeling warm and heavy, a small worry pulsating somewhere in the back of her mind. She couldn’t pay mind to that now, though; not with Bucky so close to her, his breath on her skin. “Просто чуть старые времена, назад, когда я думал, что я балерина…”

Bucky let his hand roam her body, wrapping his arm around her waist before pulling her body against his. He gave her little kisses that started from the base of her neck and finished with one just next to her lips.

“Балерина, смертельный убийца и обучение шпион. Кроме того, мой Вдова, не так ли?” He whispered, pressing his lips against hers.

She let out a deep breath, slowly, as his lips pressed to her skin in a slow trail to the corner of her lips. He spoke softly, just as he used to during all those practices in the Red Room. He would train her, have her pinned to the floor, and he would lean down and give her a kiss, whisper things only for her to hear. God, those days, she wished for nothing more. Those days when she was so blind by the brainwashing, she thought her life was just that.

It wasn’t his fault. Even after she found out the truth and ran away, she reminded herself that it wasn’t Bucky’s fault. God, Natasha had missed him. Under it all, she knew she was only coming around because she missed him. In every sense of the word, she missed him. This was him— soft kisses and warm breath that trickled words like music. She feared the other parts of him, the metal cool against her skin reminded her of that. But she missed him. “Я был всегда за вами. Я был молод и в одиночку, но я был ваш.”

Natasha embraced his kiss, and suddenly, she was lost again. She was a ballerina again. Sliding her hands up, one resting on his chest an the other gliding across his cheek, into his hair. She kissed him, letting him lean into her, the black silk of her robe sliding between them. She could feel the warmth of his skin as he pressed closer to her, and she fell back into the couch.

By the moment she returned his kiss, Bucky couldn’t think straight anymore. During his time as the Winter Soldier, while he had no memory of his life as a regular american boy, Natasha was the only good thing he had. Until she disappeared.

Read More

posted 2 months ago with 35 notes