Údar agus maighdean mhara 🧜♀️ 30+ Tá súil agam go mbeidh gach duine cineálta leat 🤍
For works only (without other content): Eala's Library
AO3 | Wattpad | website
Since Tumblr says my post is too long if I type all of the masterlists out here, I'll be linking individual ones below:
Standalone Works
The Fall – Masterlist 1
The Fall – Masterlist 2
The Fall – Masterlist 3
The Fall – Masterlist 4
Stardust – Masterlist 1
Stardust – Masterlist 2
Random Musings of a Feral ADHD Gremlin-Slash-Chaos Goblin
(My works are also published on AO3 and Wattpad, if you prefer to read on those platforms:
The Fall AO3 | The Fall Wattpad | Stardust AO3 | Stardust Wattpad )
BBC News - Four women accuse Jared Leto of criminal sexual conduct when they were teenagers - BBC News//
You know the only thing that puzzles me about cases like this and whether it's with Jared Leto Donald Trump Harvey Weinstein whoever it doesn't matter why on Earth would you wait 20 or 30 years to come out with something like this if somebody raped you or abused you in any way now mind you if I am walking down the street tomorrow heaven forbid somebody grabs me throws me in a car and sexually assaults me I'm not going to wait 10 years to go to the police and tell them what happened.
Because it's common knowledge that evidence has to be collected within a certain amount of time so you're telling me that years and years later how is this going to be proven they can't do a rape kit they can't look for bruises DNA anything after a while it's too late and after years and years and years go by the only thing anybody can gain out of this is getting money and when people start dragging this into court money is not going to make up for what you had to go through.
Yes a lawsuit might get you revenge on who hurt you but money is not going to erase the memory of what happened from your brain. And you might say that well because the person was famous they had second thoughts... I don't buy that because the more famous the person is the more publicity about the case and just yesterday I read a posting on here about some woman that accused Sebastian Stan of rape around a year ago that is a very very serious accusation and I'm not saying that these women are lying but why in the hell would it take you so many years to come forward that's the one question in my mind I just can never get around it.
I’m going to say this as clearly as possible.
Unless you have been in that position, you do not get to judge how long it takes someone to come forward.
I am a survivor. I know other survivors. It is not simple, it is not quick, and it is not the same for everyone.
You don’t know what someone is processing, how long it takes them to understand what happened, to grieve it, to feel safe enough to say it out loud. You don’t know if they tried to come forward before and weren’t believed. You don’t know what they were dealing with behind the scenes.
So no you don’t get to decide what the “right” timeline is.
And I’m not going to entertain that kind of thinking here.
And I know about those allegations from last year because I actually went toe to toe with her.
I’m the one who dug into it. I’m the one who found the proof. I’m the one who showed she was lying.
That was me.
So I don’t need people talking to me like I wasn’t directly involved or like I don’t know what I’m talking about when it comes to that situation. I do. I know better then most.
Stardust – Masterlist 1 (Chapters 1–72)
Bucky Barnes x curvy!plus-size!OFC
Stardust – Masterlist 2
Rating: As a whole, Stardust is rated E due to mature themes (smut, trauma, violence, etc.). Content warnings can be found directly on applicable chapters. Please be mindful of your media consumption; take care of yourself.
1. Agent Magennis!
2. Sergeant James Barnes, ma'am.
3. ...you sure you can handle that, sugar? ⚠️
4. 'Neets'.
5. Good Night, Sweetheart. ⚠️🌡️
6. ...I want that with her. 🪭
7. So that is what all the fuss is about. 🪭
8. I'm a fool.
9. ...you're a man in love.
10. Buncha idiots. 🌡️
11. My gal. 🪭
12. Fair enough, Agent Magennis.
13. Can you breathe with me, James? ⚠️
14. ...time isn't promised.
15. Hope ya' dames don't mind drinkin' with us. ⚠️
16. Oh, don't be lewd. 🪭
17. Ya' sound so pretty, darlin'. 🪭
18. Please let him come back to me.
19. And I'm sorry. ⚠️
20. No, please...not my James. ⚠️
21. I'm going after Schmidt. ⚠️
22. I can't believe you're going to be my wife.
23. That's exactly what we're going to do.
24. I'll see you again soon, James. ⚠️
25. ...there's a woman in the cockpit!
26. Put him on ice. ⚠️
27. Again. ⚠️
28. Zimniy Soldat. ⚠️
29. Well done, Soldat. ⚠️
30. Specimen 325-57038.
31. You're awake.
32. He wanted to get back to you, Danica.
33. And here I am. ⚠️
34. ...heck, I'm frozen! ⚠️
35. And you let them turn me into this! ⚠️
36. ...hurry up and get ready! ⚠️
37. Merry fucking Christmas. 🪭
38. And that's not him.
39. Don't make excuses.
40. Nothing happens.
41. And a semi-stable, hundred-year-old man. ⚠️
42. Dust. ⚠️
43. Come sit down, boys. ⚠️
44. I miss him, too.
45. S'mores!
46. ...you're no longer welcome here. ⚠️
47. I wish I knew him. ⚠️
48. Can I have extra bubbles?
49. No point sugarcoating it.
50. ...and it's final.
51. Was.
52. I'm sorry I never made it back to you, doll. ⚠️
53. Fine.
54. ...'blow up his phone'...
55. Why do you have Steve's phone?
56. Flabbergasted
57. Machines don't bleed. ⚠️
58. That was almost a twenty-foot drop!
59. He has a kid, Sarah!
60. Alright, wiggle worm... ⚠️
61. Why'd you hang up?!
62. This is why I need a good shrink. ⚠️
63. Have you been eavesdropping?
64. Plus, the Internet's a thing. ⚠️
65. Europe.
66. I wrangle an eight-year-old.
67. And I'm fucking tired of ghosts.
68. Fuck it. ⚠️
69. I knew he'd be upset...I never thought he'd be cruel. ⚠️
70. That's super soldier shit! ⚠️
71. ...I know that this whole situation is my fault.
72. Do you even hear how ridiculous you sound?
...
*Stardust is ongoing; however, it is currently paused*
Stardust is also posted on AO3 and Wattpad, if you prefer to read on those platforms
Stardust AO3 | Stardust Wattpad
Saw this whilst scrolling on my Dash, and thought I'd share.
(More below the image.)
As an example of my own....
While writing Stardust, I had an entirely different plan for Chapter 37.
I figured out how Bucky would make sure HYDRA (or anyone else) didn't follow him after he left Steve by the river, how he managed to visit the Smithsonian, how he got to Europe, and how he stayed hidden between the ending of The Winter Soldier and the beginning of Civil War.
I researched freighter schedules, shipping routes, and how long it would take to get from Baltimore, Maryland to Europe via cargo ship.
I figured out what false trails Bucky would leave to make sure that he could stow away on a cargo freighter (a few of those made it seem like he was heading towards Madripoor). I plotted his whole two-year journey to/settlement in Bucharest (my husband asked me why I had a map across my desk, and why I was covering it with Post-It Notes 😅🤣).
And then I scrapped the whole thing, because it didn't feel exactly right for the story.
The Fall – Masterlist 1 (Chapters 1–68)
Bucky Barnes x OFC
The Fall – Masterlist 2 | The Fall – Masterlist 3 | The Fall – Masterlist 4
Rating: As a whole, The Fall is rated E due to mature themes (smut, violence, trauma & PTSD, etc.). Content warnings can be found directly on applicable chapters. Please be mindful of your media consumption; take care of yourself.
Author's Note 17 March 2026
1. I can't leave.
2. Oh good, you figured out the seatbelt.
3. ...I'm currently taking all of his money.
4. Tony is in space!
5. ...your talent for horseshit rivals my own.
6. I am inevitable. ⚠️
7. Oh, I'll get that arm. ⚠️
8. Technologically-advanced, formerly-secret country in Africa.
9. ...no, I don't have six wings. ⚠️
10. Gamora
11. So drop the arrogance, Doctor.
12. Honestly, I'm just as excited as you are.
13. Sergeant Barnes. ⚠️
14. You're not a monster.
15. You glow.
16. I'm proud of you, kiddo.
17. These pastries are delicious!
18. Myah, it's me!
19. ...I've never had a hair trigger for getting turned on. 🌡️
20. You always did have a thing for redheads.
21. Yeah...beautiful.
22. Don't stop. 🪭
23. ...staring into familiar eyes as black as my surroundings. 🌡️
24. Taw too hoe mill-ish.
25. Box wine and daddy issues. ⚠️
26. ...without blowing my cover.
27. ...even more beautiful.
28. We have some serious shopping to do!
29. 'Operation: Hottie Seraph' starts right now!
30. Excellent work.
31. I don't think you understand what 'careful' means.
32. ...or, rather, too little?
33. Sin So Sweet
34. It's you.
35. ...spun sugar and raspberries...
36. Oh, great, the bitch brigade is joining them.
37. She saved me.
38. Do you need me to move the seat up?
39. Eat all the things, nap all the naps.
40. ...things shift between the two of us. ⚠️
41. That's more like stripper attire than fitness wear.
42. Well, I guess slutty angels are a fetish.
43. Don't you dare go easy on me.
44. Can you just go, please?
45. And you're not reading into things.
46. Let's have that chat now, Barnes.
47. Pepper already tells me I shouldn't meddle.
48. I do want to kiss you.
49. Yep! Happy dance!
50. Carlo and his flirting. 🌡️
51. You're...you're magnificent. 🌡️
52. Soulmates. How quaint.
53. Wolfie
54. Asta e, frumoasă. 🪭
55. Liar. ⚠️
56. She called me 'her Bucky'. ⚠️
57. I am furious, Réalta! ⚠️
58. Anthony Edward Stark, you just yelled at her! ⚠️
59. The acquisition must wait. ⚠️
60. A Réa-shaped lump. ⚠️
61. All it can do is delay it for a while. 🌡️
62. ...Miss I-Own-All-Four-Railroads-And-All-Three-Orange-Properties. ⚠️
63. ...some people would consider forty-five minutes plenty of time... 🌡️
64. So then have me. 🪭
65. ...practically pouncing on the device.
66. F.R.I.D.A.Y. is taking a short break. ⚠️
67. Have you found her? ⚠️
68. ...I close my eyes and bow my head. ⚠️
The Fall is also posted on AO3 and Wattpad, if you prefer to read on those platforms
The Fall AO3 | The Fall Wattpad
if somebody made an AI image of me or of you yes that's a reason to get upset or your children or your family, these people are celebrities I personally don't give a crap who makes the images of him or her or anyone else.
****
That logic would have justified dismissing other people's rights throughout history.
If someone had said: "I don't care if women are denied the right to vote because they're not my family" or "I don't care how slaves are treated, they're not people I know" we'd recognize that as a failure of empathy and principle.
The issue isn't whether the victim is someone you personally care about, It's whether people deserve the same respect and protection regardless of whether they're strangers, celebrities or family. If it's wrong to create violating fake images of an ordinary person without consent, the fact that someone is famous doesn't make it less wrong.
Conservative beauty standards are back with a vengeance which means it's especially important to go out this summer with bellies out and bodies unshaved. Also be unapologetically disabled with mobility aids and wearable medical devices and stim toys and ear defenders and all that stuff. You need it. People need to see it. Everyone needs to be reminded that life is unquestioningly more enjoyable when you're not living inside an arbitrary set of rules created by people who are offended by all the wrong things.
the worst part of summer is that people get sooo comfortable expressing their disgust at having to see other people’s bodies. they’re always complaining about wrinkly old men at the nude hot springs or fat women in bikinis at the beach. I hate that shit. if you’re not capable of being normal about bodies you personally don’t find attractive, just turn your head to look at something else! and if you’re not smart enough to do that, then at least do the rest of us the courtesy of suffering in silence, because we don’t wanna hear your weird comments. thanks.
Rating: As a whole, The Fall is rated E due to mature themes (smut, violence, trauma & PTSD, etc.). Content warnings can be found directly on applicable chapters. Please be mindful of your media consumption; take care of yourself.
Chapter: 270/270
Chapter 269 | The Fall masterlist
While reblogs are appreciated, I do not consent to have any of my works otherwise saved, copied, translated, and/or reposted in any fashion by any individual, corporation, and/or entity other than myself. I do not consent to have any of my works used in and/or with any type of Artificial Intelligence (AI) in any capacity.
DECEMBER 23, 2051 — THE BARNES HOUSE — BUCKY
“Grandpa, that’s not how it ends!” J.J. exclaims.
“Yeah, Gruncle Bucky…tell us the real ending!” Delilah adds.
I chuckle in response, a warm smile curving my lips. “That’s the thing…the real ending hasn’t happened yet. Every day, more is added to the story.”
“Well, tell us the ending you want!” Harry says.
I look from my grandkids, niblings, and great-niece to Réa, who’s just returned from the kitchen, carrying a tray of mugs and snacks.
“I want to hear that ending,” she says as she makes her way to me.
I stand and take the tray from her, setting it on the sideboard before cupping her face and placing a kiss to her nose. She laughs, and a chorus of little giggles resounds in the room.
“Gwanpa, you siwwy!” Rebecca laughs.
“Yeah, Grandpa, you’re silly,” my wife teases, her crystal-blue eyes shining with a mirthful, slightly mischievous, look.
“Still such a goober,” I grin at her, my tone filled with warmth and affection.
Turning back to the children, I give them the ending they asked for. “They were happy, safe, and loved…always and forever.”
Réa gently rests her hand on my cheek, and I reach up and grasp it, giving a soft squeeze. When I let go, she pecks my cheek, then begins passing out freshly-baked cookies and mugs of hot cocoa to the little ones. As she gives them their snacks, I can’t help staring at her, enthralled.
Even though we’ve been together for almost thirty-three-and-a-half years—okay, who am I kidding? I know it’s been twelve-thousand-two-hundred-and-eight days—I still feel that same magnetic pull I felt the first time we met. These years have only made everything I feel for her grow stronger and deeper.
Our four wonderful children—Conall Ignatius, Cara Vi, and twins Anthony Eitilt and Virginia Aoife—have grown into amazing adults…so has Morgan, and so have Steve and Caroline’s children, Adam and Sarah.
Conall and his wife, Ava, met while he was a junior at M.I.T. and she was a sophomore at Harvard. He was working on consecutive Bachelor of Science degrees in Earth, Atmospheric, and Planetary Sciences, and in Physics; she was working on her Bachelor of Arts in Folklore and Mythology…they met completely by chance at a restaurant close to both campuses, and despite being polar opposites, immediately hit it off.
They got married two years after her graduation, and gave us our first grandchild—James Buchanan Barnes II, affectionately called J.J.—six years ago. J.J. was followed two years later by his sister, Rebecca Celeste; their sibling, Eibhlin Diana—Edi, for short—is expected to make her arrival in just over a month.
Cara decided she didn’t want to go to college, and Réa and I supported that decision. Cara has always been an excellent strategist, and at Thor’s recommendation, she began training with the Valkyrie ten years ago, when she was twenty. She and Brunnhilde—Bru, to Cara; Val to the rest of us—began dating almost four years ago; they have been living together for the past year.
What Cara doesn’t know is that Val spoke with me and Réa two evenings ago, asking for our blessing to propose to our daughter…a blessing we’d happily bestowed.
Anthony is currently enrolled in the Nicholas School of the Environment—Duke University’s Marine Lab—where he’s working on his Doctor of Philosophy in Marine Science and Conservation. He’ll graduate in the spring, and plans on staying in coastal North Carolina after graduation. As he puts it, ‘while I can blink to any beach in the world, any time I want, it just feels like I’m supposed to be here’.
Virginia—Ginny—attended The Juilliard School, graduating almost six years ago with a Bachelor of Fine Arts in Dance. She became a principal for the New York City Ballet at the age of twenty, and did very well with managing the last two years of Juilliard while also maintaining her career.
She and Toussaint—T’Challa and Nakia’s son—began dating earlier this year. I often catch him looking at her the way I know I look at Réa, and I don’t think it will be much longer until he’s also coming to ask for our blessing.
Morgan took over as C.E.O. of Stark Industries when Pepper retired. She’s done an incredible job of keeping Tony’s clean energy initiative going; because of her insistence on only working with other companies who utilize clean energy measures, she’s caused many global corporations to switch to more sustainable practices.
She and her husband, Ashton, a video game designer, have two children: fraternal twins James Harold—named after his great-uncles Rhodey and Happy, and who’s called Harry—and Florence Elizabeth Stark-Mullins.
Adam and his wife, Emma, have a little girl—Delilah Rose Sullivan-Rogers—and are expecting their second, a little boy they’re already calling Geoffrey Steven. Adam is an engineer for Stark Industries, specializing in cybernetics, and Emma owns a bookstore.
Sarah—like her father—is an artist; she actually just received a rather impressive commission from the city of New York for a series of murals. She’s set to begin working on them not long after the New Year.
All of us had gathered to go watch one of Ginny’s final performances of The Nutcracker. Though she’s only twenty-seven, which is the average age of most principals, she’s retiring early to open her own studio, so we had jumped at the chance to not only have an outing together, but to support our girl.
After the show, we’d returned home, and had all eaten dinner together in the main compound. Once everything had been cleaned up, Réa and I had offered to babysit our grandchildren, niblings, and great-niece so that the kids…well, they’re adults, but to me, they’ll always be ‘the kids’…could enjoy an uninterrupted visit with Tony, Pepper, Happy, May, Rhodey, Steve, Caroline, and all of the others.
“More stowee, pwease?” Rebecca asks, pulling me from my musings.
“Of course, Sweet Pea. What story do you want to hear?”
“‘Rella!” she exclaims.
“Cinderella?” I pause, pretending to ponder. “I think I know that one.”
“You do, Uncle Bucky!” Florence exclaims. “And you do all the voices the best!”
“You really do,” Réa tells me through our link, and her tone turns teasing as she continues. “I especially enjoy the voice for the Evil Stepmother.”
“Grandma, are you going to listen to the story with us?” J.J. asks.
“Of course!”
She settles onto the center cushion of the couch, and I smile broadly as I watch all of the kids climb up with her, cuddling as close as they can.
“Alright, Bucky, we’re ready for a story!” she chirps.
Conall and Adam came by a little over an hour ago and picked up the kids, taking them back to the main compound to get ready for bed.
Réa and I are in the living room, doing what we still refer to as the ‘middle-school sway’ as our custom-made record spins on the player.
The record was a gift to me from Réa; she gave it to me seven years ago, for our twenty-fourth wedding anniversary—though she’d informed me that the twenty-fourth is technically the anniversary of musical instruments, since I don’t play any, she’d decided this was the best way to follow the tradition. It holds twelve of our favorite songs, with a few from the forties, a few from the nineties and twenty-tens, and a couple of my wife’s compositions.
As the song shifts from “Crash and Burn”, which Réa sang to me on the way home from our first date, to “Perfect”—our first dance song at our wedding—I gently cup my wife’s face and pull her into a tender kiss.
“Mine,” I say through our link once the kiss ends.
Though it’s a single word, it encompasses everything she is: my soulmate, my wife, and the bright love of my heart; my peace, and my comfort…my home.
“Yours. I gcónaí agus go deo,” she replies, and her feelings that pour through the connection match mine. (Always and forever.)
“And I’m yours…i gcónaí agus go deo. I love you, Réa.”
“I love you, Bucky.”
I give her another kiss, then hold her close as we continue to sway to the music. Her head still fits perfectly on my shoulder, and I rest my cheek against it as I bask in this moment, my heart full of joy, gratitude, and—above all—the love we share.
Love that I know will never fade, never tarnish, never weather.
Love that, like a guiding star, will shine brightly…through anything and everything, in this life and the next….
Rating: As a whole, The Fall is rated E due to mature themes (smut, violence, trauma & PTSD, etc.). Content warnings can be found directly on applicable chapters. Please be mindful of your media consumption; take care of yourself.
Content Advisory: pregnancy; also, I apologise in advance (this was actually supposed to be the original ending…)
Chapter: 269/270
Chapter 268 | Chapter 270 | The Fall masterlist
While reblogs are appreciated, I do not consent to have any of my works otherwise saved, copied, translated, and/or reposted in any fashion by any individual, corporation, and/or entity other than myself. I do not consent to have any of my works used in and/or with any type of Artificial Intelligence (AI) in any capacity.
“I’m pregnant!”
Those happily-exclaimed words—and the woman who uttered them—linger inside his head, before eventually fading away like the rest of the…dream?
Muffled footsteps approach his icy prison; the sound of gears working is loud in the stillness.
With a hiss that’s nearly lost under the noise of the machinery, the cryogenic chamber opens, and tendrils of frigid, icy air waft out.
Inside the chamber, the Winter Soldier opens his eyes.
Chapter 268. Baked goods are an excellent form of bribery.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x OFC
Word Count: 1,120
Rating: As a whole, The Fall is rated E due to mature themes (smut, violence, trauma & PTSD, etc.). Content warnings can be found directly on applicable chapters. Please be mindful of your media consumption; take care of yourself.
Content Advisory: pregnancy
Chapter: 268/270
Chapter 267 | Chapter 269 | The Fall masterlist
While reblogs are appreciated, I do not consent to have any of my works otherwise saved, copied, translated, and/or reposted in any fashion by any individual, corporation, and/or entity other than myself. I do not consent to have any of my works used in and/or with any type of Artificial Intelligence (AI) in any capacity.
JANUARY 29, 2021 — DELACROIX — RÉA
Bucky and I are in Delacroix; Sarah had called Sam earlier in the week, asking if he could come down to help her work on the boat. She’d insisted he bring me, Bucky, and Conall, and we’d happily accepted the invitation and tagged along.
My husband and Sam have been working on the boat for a couple of hours; while they’ve been doing that, I’ve been having an inner debate, and have finally reached a decision.
“Sarah, could we run into town, please? To the grocery store? I’d like to fix supper tonight, if that’s alright with you.”
“Sure, Réa! You know I won’t turn down your cooking!”
“Great! I also thought I’d bake a batch of cookies…figured they might be a good afternoon snack. Plus, it’ll give me a chance to try out the Silpat I got yesterday at that baking supply store in Lafayette.”
“You’re adorable…excited about bakeware,” my friend gently teases.
“Let me get Conall ready, then tell Bucky what we’re doing, and I’ll meet you at your car?”
“Sounds good.”
When we get back from the store, I feed Conall, then get supper—steak chili—going in the slow cooker while Sarah happily holds my son. Once the stew is cooking, I begin mixing up a simple sugar cookie dough, then get Conall down for a nap. While the dough chills in the refrigerator, Sarah and I fix an easy lunch of turkey sandwiches and carrot sticks. It’s sunny outside, and even though it’s slightly chilly, it’s not uncomfortable; I grab the baby monitor, and my friend and I carry plates out to the guys so that the four of us can eat on the dock.
After lunch, Sarah and I get to work on the cookies; for most of them, we just use the scoop-and-roll technique, placing balls of dough on the Silpat-lined baking sheet, but for one of them, I roll out the dough, using the cookie cutter I got—’just in case’—yesterday.
“You come up with the best ideas,” Sarah tells me as I slide the baking sheet into the oven. “That’s something relatively simple, but so creative and unique.”
“Thank you. Let’s hope it works out in practical application,” I reply.
“It will,” she reassures me.
As the cookies bake, Conall wakes up from his nap; I get him situated in his bouncy seat in the living room, and Sarah and I settle onto the couch, falling into easy conversation. She tells me a bit more about her and Sam’s childhoods, and what it was like helping their parents with the boat and the business. When she leaves to pick Cass and AJ up from school, I clean the kitchen, then check on the chili, giving it a quick stir before adding the finishing touch to the single cut-out cookie.
I’ve just finished placing the last of the regular ones on a couple of plates when the front door bursts open, and AJ comes sprinting inside, Cass hot on his heels.
“Mom said you made cookies!” AJ excitedly exclaims.
“I did. Why don’t you and your brother sit down and get started on your homework,” I nod towards the kitchen table, “and I’ll bring you both a couple of cookies and a glass of milk.”
“Yes, ma’am,” the boys reply in unison.
Once they’re settled, I give them their snacks, then strap Conall into the wearable baby carrier and grab the smaller plate of cookies I set aside for Sam and Bucky.
“I can’t believe you got them to do their homework on a Friday,” Sarah says as we walk to the dock. “I’ve tried that so many times, telling them that if they just go ahead and get it done on Friday, they won’t have anything to do over the weekend besides relax. Well, I mean, obviously their chores, but they knock those out within an hour.”
“Baked goods are an excellent form of bribery,” I tease. “If you want, I’ll make a couple more batches of cookies, and you can freeze them. That way, they’ll be on hand. And when you run out, you can always let me know. After all, I’m only a blink away.”
As we approach the boat, we see Bucky and Sam sitting on the deck, drinking beer.
“Hey! You two are supposed to be working…this looks like slacking off!” Sarah teasingly calls out.
“We’re done for the day. We need some parts, but I’m going to have to go to Lafayette to get them. That’s a tomorrow project,” Sam tells her as we climb aboard. He looks at me, his gaze zeroing in on the plate in my hands. “Did you make cookies?!”
The excitement in his tone makes me smile. “I did.”
He reaches out, making grabby hands.
“Manners, Sam!”
“Réa knows I have impeccable manners,” he tells his sister. “She’s lived with me for years.”
“Yeah, well, so have I…and I’m questioning whether or not you’ve forgotten them.”
As the pair lovingly bicker back-and-forth, I hand Sam the plate, taking the cut-out cookie off.
“Hey, that one’s a wolf!”
“It is,” I nod.
“What, no falcon-shaped one?”
“But you’re not Falcon anymore…you’re Captain America.”
“But I still have the wings!” He hesitates briefly, catching the pointed look Sarah gives him. “Thank you, Réa, for baking.”
“You’re welcome, Sam.”
Turning to Bucky, I hand him the cookie: a wolf silhouette, that I sketched a wolf on using food-colouring markers.
“Thank you. This is almost too nice to eat,” he tells me.
“You’re welcome. And I took a picture of it, don’t worry.”
He’s just started to lift the cookie to his mouth when Sam speaks again.
“Wait. That one’s a wolf. And you gave it to Bucky.”
He leans forward, resting his forearms on his knees, and looks at me with what all of us call his ‘thinking face’…squinted eyes, furrowed brow, and a slight frown. Suddenly, his eyes fly open wide, and he sits up straight.
“Oh my God, are you—”
“Samuel Thomas Wilson, if you don’t shut your mouth!” Sarah interrupts him. “Come on, let’s go back to the house.”
With a broad grin at me, Sam follows his sister, leaving Bucky and I alone on the deck of the boat.
My husband is staring at the cookie as if it holds some sort of secret…which I suppose it does. I see the moment he figures it out, because he looks up at me with a brilliant smile on his handsome face.
“Réa?” he asks, his tone tentative, but full of happiness, as his eyes bounce between me, our son, and the cookie, then back to me.
I smile back at him, my heart so full . “So, just to make this extra clear…. I’m pregnant!”
Rating: As a whole, The Fall is rated E due to mature themes (smut, violence, trauma & PTSD, etc.). Content warnings can be found directly on applicable chapters. Please be mindful of your media consumption; take care of yourself.
Content Advisory: smut; desperate sex (Bucky and Réa thought they lost each other 🥺); aftercare; sweet!Bucky; nipple play; oral (f receiving); fingering; penetrative (p-in-v) sex; unprotected sex; more aftercare
Chapter: 267/270
Chapter 266 | Chapter 268 | The Fall masterlist
While reblogs are appreciated, I do not consent to have any of my works otherwise saved, copied, translated, and/or reposted in any fashion by any individual, corporation, and/or entity other than myself. I do not consent to have any of my works used in and/or with any type of Artificial Intelligence (AI) in any capacity.
DECEMBER 28, 2020 — AVENGERS COMPOUND — RÉA
“Welcome back,” Rhodey and Vision say in unison as we step out of the portal.
“Thank you. It’s really, really good to be back,” Clint says. “And on that note…I’m going to go call Laura, so I can talk to her and the kids. And then I’m gonna crash.” He looks around at all of us. “Good night.”
He exits the room to a chorus of ‘good night’s; less than a minute later, Nat, Bruce, and Sam do the same.
“Let’s get Lupulețul nostru home,” Bucky whispers. (our Little Wolf)
“Okay.”
Like the others, we say our goodnights and I blink our little trio home, leaving Loki, Wanda, and Thor to regale Vision and Rhodey with the tale of what happened.
“Why don’t you put Conall to bed?” I ask my husband as I toe off my trainers while he hangs up his jacket and removes his boots. “And I’ll check on Alpine and Vale, then meet you upstairs.”
“Okay, doll. See you in a bit.”
He gives me a soft kiss, then takes our sleeping son from my arms. Conall stirs slightly, but settles instantly as Bucky holds him close. I watch them ascend the stairs, then move through the main floor of the house, searching for our cats. I find them both asleep, curled up together on the couch in the den, and I smile softly at the pair before I make my way upstairs to my and Bucky’s room.
Closing the door behind me, I turn to my husband; our eyes lock, and I launch myself at him as everything I’ve been holding back spills from me in a flood of tears. He catches me, and I wrap my arms and legs around him, burying my face in the crook of his neck. He doesn’t speak; he simply lowers to the floor and curls himself around me, holding me as if he never wants to let me go. I feel his body shaking as he cries, too; through our link, I feel my own emotions mirrored back at me.
While there is so much relief, the fear and anxiety are still there, along with the heartbreaking certainty that this was the end. There are also sadness and despair, along with happiness and thankfulness that this wasn’t the end…and, even though both of our emotions are jumbled, tangled heaps, the ever-present love we share remains—as always—clear and bright.
Eventually, our tears subside, and I lift my head to look at Bucky. His beautiful, steel-blue eyes are still misty, and teardrops remain on his cheeks. I gently cup his face, my thumbs brushing away his tears, and rest my forehead against his.
“I love you. I love you so, so much. And I thought…” I trail off as my wavering voice catches. “I thought I’d lost you. I—”
My words fade as he crushes his lips to mine, kissing me like he’s drowning and I’m oxygen. I kiss him back just as fervently, twining my left arm around his neck and sliding my right hand into his hair. The kiss quickly intensifies, and soon we’re tugging at each other’s clothes, our movements frantic.
Both of our shirts and my bra have been tossed aside, and his lips blaze a path down the column of my throat toward my chest; a wanton moan slips from me before I pull his mouth back to mine.
“Need you, Bucky…please…I just need you,” I pant as I fumble with his zipper, the desperate desire to be as close to him as possible overriding any sense of finesse.
He’s pulling at my jeans, letting out a frustrated growl because our position is making it difficult to remove them. Shifting so that my back is on the floor, he sits back on his heels and pulls them and my underwear down my legs, tossing them and my socks aside. Before they’ve even hit the floor, he’s slamming into me, all the way to the hilt.
“Oh, gods,” I gasp, my back arching as pleasure zings through me.
He grips my hips, his hold wonderfully tight as he ruts into me. His face is buried in the curve of my neck, and his warm breath fans over my collarbone as he pants above me. I cling to him, my legs around his hips pulling him close, causing him to get just that extra bit deeper with every thrust.
We move frenziedly, our tumultuous emotions driving us; though this is about connecting with one another, it’s on the rawest, most primal level.
It doesn’t take long for me to be on the edge of release; I feel his rhythm falter, his hips stuttering, and know he’s close, too. All it takes is several more thrusts, and he and I fly over the precipice in tandem.
We lie together, breathing heavily; Bucky lifts his head to meet my eyes, his gaze searching mine before he presses a soft kiss to my lips. He pulls out of me then stands, shedding his undone pants, his boxer briefs, and his socks before scooping me up and carrying me into the en suite. Depositing me gently on the counter, he steps into the shower enclosure, turning on both of the waterfalls to heat and closing the drain in the pool before returning to me.
As the water heats, he brushes my hair and gathers the strands into a topknot, giving me a sweet kiss before wrapping me in a hug. We embrace until the pool’s filled, then he again scoops me up and carries me into the shower, shutting off the cascades and situating us in the warm water. We settle in our usual position of my back against his chest and my head resting on his shoulder; he turns his head, brushing his lips over my forehead.
We soak together until the water begins to cool, then rinse off at the sprayers. When we step out of the enclosure, Bucky wraps me in a fluffy bath sheet, quickly towelling off before drying me. He hangs up our towels, then lifts me into his arms, carrying me to our bed.
He turns down the covers, gently laying me in the centre of the bed and settling beside me. He brushes the backs of his right fingers over my cheek, then cups my face.
“I love you, Réa. Every day, I think there’s no way I could possibly love you more…and then I realise that I do. Every moment, my feelings for you deepen and grow.” His voice catches, his eyes misting as he continues. “And even more amazing is the fact that, thanks to our link, I know you feel the same…I know that you love me as much as I love you.”
A tear trails down his cheek; I tenderly brush the droplet away, remaining silent because I know he has more to say. He reaches up and holds my hand against his cheek, then turns his head and presses a kiss to my palm.
“I’ve told you this before, but I’m saying it again, because it’s true. I look at you, and sometimes, I can’t even believe you’re real, and that you’re mine. That you want to be mine, and want me to be yours.” He swallows thickly. “I don’t know what I ever did to deserve you, but it doesn’t matter. I would do it over, and over, and over again, if it meant being with you.”
I close the small distance between us, kissing him as I let everything in my heart, mind, and soul flow through our link, letting him feel that I feel, think, and believe the same.
Like earlier, the kiss quickly intensifies, and Bucky rolls so that I’m beneath him. Unlike earlier, our touches aren’t frantic; our hands glide over one another tenderly—reverently—as if we’re committing every plane and curve to memory.
Just as I’m about to curl my fingers around his length, he stops me.
“Let me make you feel good,” he murmurs, his lips brushing mine as he speaks. “I want to…I need to, Réa.”
I nod. “O-okay,” I murmur.
He gives me another steamy, intense kiss, then moves lower, his lips brushing over my skin. He cups my breast with his right hand, thumb brushing over my nipple, and bends his head to the other. He swirls his tongue over and around the rosy, pebbled peak before pulling it into his mouth.
“Bucky,” I gasp, my fingers sliding into his hair as I arch into him.
He doesn’t linger, moving lower until he’s settled between my legs. His hands caress my sides as he peppers kisses over my inner thighs. He gives a gentle nip, and at my quiet gasp, he lifts his head. As our gazes lock, my centre contracts at the combination of stark, raw desire and incandescent love I see in his eyes.
He adjusts his hold, wrapping his arms around my thighs; his warm breath fans over me as he leans forward and licks a stripe through my folds, from my entrance to my clit. He lets out a groan of pleasure that vibrates through my centre…and then he devours me.
His tongue flicks and swirls over the sensitive, nerve-filled bud, and it doesn’t take long for that wonderful, tingling pressure to start building within me. Suddenly, he closes his lips around my clit and sucks, while rapidly pulsing his tongue against me, and the pleasure increases a thousandfold.
“Oh gods,” I mewl as, almost of their own accord, my hips rock against his face, those tell-tale flutters starting within me.
“That’s it, beautiful,” he says through our link. “I’ve got you. Let go for me.”
He moves his right hand from my thigh, slipping two fingers inside me and curling them into the soft spot on my front wall…and that’s all it takes to send me flying into the stratosphere. Bucky works me through my climax, then moves up my body, settling his hips in the cradle of my thighs. He crushes his mouth to mine; I taste myself on his lips and tongue, and moan into the kiss as desire once more flares within me.
I again reach for him, lining his hard, thick length up with my entrance. He slowly—almost excruciatingly so—presses into me, his hands cupping my face and his gaze on mine. His vibranium thumb strokes my cheek while his right hand brushes my hair back, and he leans in to give me another tender kiss.
He starts to move, setting a languorous pace; slowly pulling back and then pushing into me, his gaze on mine. I match his thrusts, and we move together in perfect tandem.
“I love you, Réa. I love you so much,” he whispers, the sincerity in his quiet tone echoing through our link.
“I love you, Bucky,” I breathe.
We continue moving as one, exchanging soft kisses, and murmuring sweet sentiments and our love for each other; aside from the kisses we share, our locked gazes never waver, holding even as our pace increases. Finally, we reach our peaks together, holding each other close as we come down.
I have no idea how long we lie together, with our limbs intertwined and his body pressing mine into the mattress; honestly, it doesn’t matter. The only thing that matters is that we’re together.
Eventually, Bucky rolls onto his side, pulling me with him. He fits me against his chest and wraps his arms around me; I let out a contented sigh and nuzzle into his chest, breathing in his warm, comforting scent of cedar, vanilla, and cinnamon. His fingers lightly trace my spine, and it doesn’t take long for me to grow drowsy.
“Tá grá agam duit mo fhear céile iontach, dochreidte…mo Bucky…mo Séamas. Codladh milis, mo chroí,” I murmur. (I love you, my wonderful, incredible husband…my Bucky…my James. Sleep sweet, my heart.)
“Agus is grá liom tú, mo bhean chéile iontach, dochreidte…is tú grá geal mo chroí. Mo réalta, mo rabhcháin, mo stór, mo mhíorúilt…mo gach rud.” (And I love you, my wonderful, incredible wife…you are the bright love of my heart. My star, my beacon, my treasure, my miracle…my everything.)
A soft smile curves my lips as I feel him press a kiss to the top of my head, then rest his cheek on that same spot. Filled with happiness and love, feeling safe and cherished in my husband’s embrace, I drift into peaceful slumber.
Rating: As a whole, The Fall is rated E due to mature themes (smut, violence, trauma & PTSD, etc.). Content warnings can be found directly on applicable chapters. Please be mindful of your media consumption; take care of yourself.
Content Advisory: Final part of the crossover with Lokibutnotculty’s (formerly Buckyfanfics) An Unconventional Trio (which is posted on AO3, Wattpad, and TikTok); mention of Réa taking the Fall; mention of Réa’s abduction, torture, & SA; Nova being the most supportive gremlin; single mention of poop (because Nova is, well, Nova 🤦♀️)
Chapter: 266/270
Chapter 265 | Chapter 267 | The Fall masterlist
While reblogs are appreciated, I do not consent to have any of my works otherwise saved, copied, translated, and/or reposted in any fashion by any individual, corporation, and/or entity other than myself. I do not consent to have any of my works used in and/or with any type of Artificial Intelligence (AI) in any capacity.
DECEMBER 28, 2020 — OTHER-AVENGERS COMPOUND: EARTH-10005 — RÉA
Nova didn’t order the entire taco shop…but she was close.
After our lunch of various tacos—carnitas, al pastor, mahi-mahi, camarones a la Diabla, carne asada, and chicken tinga—chips, queso, salsa, and guacamole, Also-Bucky and Other-Loki invite Bucky to go on a walk with them around the compound grounds. He takes Conall with him, and they head out, leaving Nova and I alone in her suite.
“Can I ask you something? A very personal something?” she asks.
“You can ask…I can’t promise I’ll answer.”
“That’s valid.” She shifts, once again sitting cross-legged. “Earlier. Before we went to the conference room. There was a moment when Wade was getting close to you, and you kind of…froze. And I—”
“And you wondered if something happened to me.”
“Yeah,” she nods. After a pause, she continues. “And I know you’re this badass Nephilim, and you told us about your powers and stuff, so it seems unlikely. But…I know what a trauma response looks like. I’ve had enough of them myself. And I’m with Bucky, so…well, y’know.”
I’m quiet for several long moments, debating how to respond.
“Yes,” I finally say. “I’m not going to go into all of the details…because they’re very personal. To give you a definitive answer to your question, though…yes. Something happened to me. It was awful, and terrifying, and painful, and even though the one responsible was…dealt with…it still haunts me. The nightmares happen less frequently—they do still happen, though—and I can actually be around people again…” I trail off. “It wasn’t easy to get to this point. And even with my powers back, it’s…that fear still rears its head.” I draw in a deep breath. “Bucky is wonderful. Because of what happened, the self-doubt I had before just grew. And even now, I still have moments when I’m afraid that he’ll get tired of me and leave. I know he won’t…but sometimes, that unhealed—healing—part of me takes over and—”
“So your brain is an asshole like mine!” she exclaims. “Sorry, that was aggressive. And sorry for interrupting. I just—”
“Had a thought, and the filter didn’t filter?”
“Exactly!” She gives me a quizzical look. “Wait…does your filter sometimes stop filtering? I mean, mine’s not a ‘sometimes’ thing; that’s a regular occurrence. But you’re…see, I’m going off on a gremlin word-vomit ramble.” She pinches her lips, holding her mouth closed with one hand, and gestures for me to continue with the other.
“Yes, sometimes my filter stops filtering. And I ramble, too.” I pause briefly. “You’re right. Sometimes, my brain is an asshole.” I tilt my head slightly to the side. “Does your Bucky always seem to know just the right things to say?”
“He does!”
We lapse into silence for a few minutes, then she speaks again. “How, um…how did…I mean, you have powers. So…?”
“I, um…well, several months before…I took the Fall.”
“The thing you talked about downstairs?! You lost your powers, your…your angel-ness?!”
I nod. “I had to. It was…Bucky was barely hanging on, and almost all of the others were…” my eyes fill, and my voice catches. “They were gone. And I…I needed them not to be.”
A tear rolls down my cheek, and I quickly swipe it away. In a flash, Nova is beside me, wrapping me in a hug. I stiffen for a fraction of a second, and then return her embrace.
“Thank you,” I say as we separate. “I’ve…well, I’ve never talked about any of that with anyone outside of the team, apart from in therapy. Thank you for letting me trauma-dump.”
“‘Trauma-dump’? That?! No, no, no, that was not a trauma dump. That was a trauma CliffsNotes! Oh God! That sounds like I’m prying…I’m not prying! I’m just…a trauma dump is…well, it’s word-vomit. Of the traumatic variety. That was…well, it wasn’t a dump of any kind.” She draws in a deep breath, pinching the bridge of her nose in a gesture very reminiscent of Bucky, and I feel a grin tugging at the corners of my lips. “And now I’m thinking about poop,” she mutters. “What even is my brain?”
Suddenly, she looks back up at me, her bright-blue eyes wide. “You heard that, didn’t you? Did I say that out loud? I did? Cool, cool, cool. Talking about shit in front of a literal angel. Love this for me.”
I can’t hold back my laughter, and the sound spills from me, bright and slightly boisterous in the space. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry…it’s just…you’re so—”
“Don’t say ‘cute’.” Nova’s stern comment is punctuated by an equally-stern point in my direction. “Don’t you dare!”
“—delightfully uninhibited,” I finish.
The tiny, colourful-haired woman gives me an appraising glance that rivals Tony’s for how small it makes me feel. She squints her eyes at me, and when she speaks, her voice is steely. “That’s just a really fancy way of saying ‘cute’, isn’t it?”
I nod, unfazed. “Yeah, it is.”
“Fuck nuggets! I knew you wouldn’t think I was scary. My intimidation voice must need some work!”
I laugh again. “I mean…I’m sure you’re quite formidable on missions, and in training…pretty much any time there’s a battle scenario. It’s okay to be…” I search for a roundabout way to say ‘cute’, “…a human Squishmallow.”
Before she can reply, the door to her suite opens, and Also-Bucky and Other-Loki enter the room, followed by my husband.
“Who’s a human Squishmallow?” Bucky-Too asks.
“Nova,” I reply.
“Am not,” she sullenly mutters.
“Oh, come on, Giz…you definitely are. You love to cuddle.”
“Yeah, well…that…she was…she was calling me cute. I am not cute.”
Other-Bucky and Loki-Too smirk at one another, then turn affectionate gazes towards Nova.
“It’s okay,” my husband says, handing Conall to me, then settling beside me on the loveseat. “Let me tell you about this one time when Réa—”
“Oh, gods, this is about the mums, isn’t it?” I hang my head back and laugh, even as an embarrassed flush colours my cheeks. “Go on, tell the story.”
“Well, a month before Conall was born, Réa wanted to plant some mums. And she…” he trails off, turning to me with that adorably-charming, lopsided grin. “Can you just show them my memory? It would be much better than me telling them about it. It’d really give them the full effect.”
“Would you be okay if I opened a telepathic link with each of you, and Bucky?” I ask the others.
“See? See? Ya’ see how she asked?” She leans towards Also-Loki, a playful smirk on her face. “That’s the appropriate way to do that…. Unless you’re putting R- or X-rated pictures in my brain again. Which, ten out of ten, I do recommend.” She leans even closer to him. “Could you do that again later?”
As if seemingly just remembering we’re still here, she sits up. “Sorry, sorry. I’m back. Let’s do this. Lemme see!” Like she did earlier, with my ring, she makes grabby hands.
I open the link between all of us, immediately being swept up into the disco-ball energy that is Nova’s mind.
“How are you so calm?!”
“What do you mean, ‘calm’?”
“This…this doesn’t translate externally. You apparently do have a functioning filter. I couldn’t wrangle this—”
“Bunch of substance-using squirrels at a rave? Don’t ask me how I’m wrangling them. Because I didn’t think I was. I’m just winging it. Like I wing everything…life, my eyeliner…yeah, literally everything.”
Beside her, on the couch, her Bucky and Loki are nodding, looking completely unfazed by the mental discotheque.
“Hey, hey…” she says aloud, poking Also-Bucky in the ribs. “Do you remember that…that one night, at the Ashnikko concert? When that one guy gave me Molly?”
“Not talking about that right now, Giz,” he says through the link.
“Oh my God you’re in my head! You’ve never been in me before! I mean, you have, but…no, stop it, brain! No more side quests! Focus!” She hesitates. “Okay. Réa’s Bucky. One, two, three, go!”
We all watch the memory play through the link.
“James Buchanan Barnes, if you don’t let me plant these flowers, I’ll…well, I’m not sure what, but I’ll do something!” I fix Bucky with a look.
“God, you’re cute.”
“I am not cute…I’m…I’m scary, damn it!”
I emphasise that exclamation by stomping my right foot, and Bucky loses it, a loud laugh escaping him. My brow furrows, and though it’s obvious that I’m trying to keep the stern expression on my face, I’m soon laughing along with him, my giggles bright and cheerful.
“Okay, now that was cute!” Nova exclaims. “Ewww, now I’m doing it!”
Bucky, Conall, and I spend a couple more hours in Nova’s suite, talking with her and her universe’s counterparts of Loki and Bucky. Eventually, we make our way downstairs to rejoin the others.
“So, Réa…how exactly are we getting home?” Clint asks. “You said you had it covered, but I’m curious.”
“I just need to let Stephen know we’re ready to come back.”
“Oh. Well. I thought you were going to say you’d take us back.”
I shake my head. “I mean…technically, I can. I just don’t want to risk it. I’ve never done interdimensional or interuniversal blinking before.”
“Fair enough,” Clint nods.
As the others all say their farewells, I turn to Nova. Balancing Conall in my left arm, I bend down and wrap my right around her shoulders.
“Thank you,” I tell her. “It was really nice to meet you.”
“You, too. Sucks that you live in a different universe.” She ends the hug, and looks up at me. “Can we talk sometimes? Since your telepathy apparently works from here to there?”
I smile and nod. “We can. I’d like that a lot.”
She grins back at me, her blue eyes sparkling. “I promise not to set the rolling squirrels loose.”
A bright laugh bursts from me. “Duly noted.”
Wrapping up my goodbye with my new friend, I move back to my husband’s side, then telepathically reach out to Stephen.
“Stephen?”
There’s a bit of a delay, and then he replies. “Hi, Réa. I assume it’s…to quote your earlier words…‘glowing portal time’?”
“Yes. Please. We’d like to go home.”
“Okay.”
A glowing portal begins to open; as it widens, I see the lounge of the compound—our compound—as well as Vision and Rhodey waiting for us.
