Panel lowkey goes hard
- #project hail mary
#phm#ryland grace#rocky the eridian#project hail mary spoilers
#cats of tumblr
#lana del rey- #heated rivalry
#horror movies
#photography- #iron lung
#phm#ryland grace#rocky the eridian#project hail mary spoilers
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Panel lowkey goes hard
Chapter 143. Maybe it’s not supposed to make sense.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x OFC
Word Count: 1,402
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: therapy (equine-assisted psychotherapy; specifically, the EAGALA model); mention of flashback; mention of nightmare; mention of kidnapping/abduction; mention of torture; mention of SA/non-con; mention of death
Chapter: 143/270
Chapter 142 | Chapter 144 | 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.
NOVEMBER 5, 2019 — UPSTATE NEW YORK— RÉA
“Hello, Réa. It’s nice to see you again,” Catelyn says as I enter the office.
“Hi, Catelyn. Hi, Macayla. It’s nice to see you, too.”
I take the same seat I did last time, at one of the ends of the table; Catelyn and Macayla take their same seats as well.
“So how have things been since we saw you last?” Catelyn asks.
I pause, trying to figure out how to answer.
“They’ve been…well, honestly, I’m…” I trail off. “I don’t know where to start.”
Both women nod.
“Did you do anything for Halloween?” Macayla asks.
“I did. I handed out candy with everyone. A little boy—Adam—came dressed as Bucky…he has a prosthetic arm, and he had it wrapped in black and yellow tape,” I say, a small, soft smile forming on my face. “It was adorable.”
I pause.
“The day after Halloween, I…well, that was a rough day. Honestly, the past few days have been rough; that was just the start.” I inhale shakily. “I…I had a nightmare. A flashback nightmare. Which was bad enough…but then I….”
I trail off, then sigh heavily.
“Bucky woke me, and he was wonderful. He’s always wonderful…he never pushes, and he always seems to know just the right things to do and say. Like this time, he sat across from me and just let me cry, and then once I’d stopped crying, he asked if I wanted or needed to do the grounding technique he taught me—the five-four-three-two-one technique—and when I declined, he asked if I needed or wanted anything. And I wanted to ask him to hold me, but I felt like I shouldn’t. Because I felt like he shouldn’t have to touch me, and because I didn’t know if I could handle it if he did.”
I pause again.
“And, as is the norm, it’s like he knew what I wanted, because he eventually asked if I wanted to be held. And I told him that I did, but I didn’t know if I could handle it. And he said that we could try, and if I wanted, we could stop.” I let out another heavy sigh. “Like I said, he always seems to know just what to do. I’m sure part of that comes from what he dealt with during his time in HYDRA’s clutches…and I think part of it is just him.”
Catelyn and Macayla are quiet for several moments.
“So you had a nightmare. And the negative self-talk reared its head, along with the anxiety over physical touch,” Catelyn says, her tone gentle.
I nod. “Yes.”
“Is that what you’d like to focus on with Ares today?”
“I actually don’t know. Because something else happened.”
“And what was that?”
“I found out that R-Ru…Rumlow—the man wh-who…who kidnapped, and tortured, and…and r-r-raped me—is dead. And the first thought I had was…was ‘good’.” My voice breaks. “I’m glad he’s dead. I’m not sorry at all…and what…what does that say about me? I’ve still never picked a flower or squashed a bug, because I abhor the taking of a life…and I’m happy that someone died.”
As soon as I finish that sentence, tears begin to fall down my cheeks. Catelyn and Macayla let me cry, waiting until I’m finished to speak.
“I think maybe that’s what we should address with Ares…your feelings surrounding that,” Catelyn says.
“I agree,” Macayla adds.
I nod. “O-okay.”
The three of us head out to Ares’s paddock.
“Do you remember the protocol, Réa?” Macayla asks as we walk.
“Yes. Say ‘hello’ like this,” I hold my hand the way she demonstrated last time, “and wait for him to close the distance. If he does, I need to thank him, and then it’s okay to touch him.”
“That’s right.” She pauses. “Whenever you’re ready, we can go on in.”
“I’m ready.”
The three of us enter the paddock, and I slowly make my way toward Ares. He lifts his head and watches me approach; I stop about a foot away from him. I extend my hand, palm down, and wait for him to close the distance and make contact; he does so almost immediately.
“Thank you,” I say softly.
He bobs his head, almost as if he’s nodding, and I can’t help but smile faintly.
“Hi, sweet guy,” I whisper. “Can I pet you?”
As he did before, he steps closer to me and rests his neck on my shoulder, with his head around my upper back.
I don’t know what it is, but something about the contact brings me clarity, and I begin crying.
“I…one of my best friends killed a man who hurt me. And I’m glad he’s dead. And I…I thought I wasn’t sorry that he’s dead. But I…I think I might be. Just in a…just in a ‘life was lost’ kind of way. I don’t feel bad that he is gone…it’s just sad that a life was cut short, because every life is important, and every living being has a purpose.” I pause. “I don’t even know if that makes sense. Maybe it’s not supposed to make sense.”
I’m quiet for a moment, contemplating.
“And I…I feel guilty that I’m glad he’s gone. Because vengeance isn’t really my ‘thing’. And then I feel like I shouldn’t feel guilty because he…the things he did…I…” I trail off as I begin to cry harder.
Ares presses his head against me, nudging me closer to him; I wrap my arms around his neck and rest my cheek on his shoulder as I let the tears pour from me. Eventually, I release his neck, taking a few steps backward then sinking to the ground, unable to stay standing as the emotions overwhelm me. I kneel, one hand on the ground and the other clutching my chest, letting out everything I’ve been holding onto since Bucky and Wanda told me about Rumlow.
Suddenly, I hear gasps from Macayla and Catelyn as Ares steps toward me then settles onto the ground beside me, once again wrapping his head and neck around me and pulling me toward him.
“Thank you,” I whisper through my tears as I again wrap my arms around his neck and lay my cheek on his shoulder.
Ares and I stay like that until my tears stop.
“Thank you again, Ares,” I whisper as I end the embrace and stand, putting a little distance between myself and the gelding so he has room to stand.
Once Ares is on his feet, I turn back to face Macayla and Catelyn.
“Do you want to share, or do you want to just take some time to reflect?” Catelyn asks.
I think that over for a moment.
“I…I’m glad Ru-Rumlow is gone. A-and I feel guil-guilty that I’m g-glad. And I also…I a-also f-feel sorry that he’s gone. Even w-with wh-wh-what he d-did, a…a l-l-life w-was ended, a-and that’s s-s-sad,” I stammer, anxiety settling over me.
‘They’re not going to judge you, Réa. They’re not going to judge you,’ I tell myself.
“All of those feelings are valid, Réa,” Catelyn says. “You went through something horrible, and it’s valid for you to feel glad that the person who hurt you is gone.” She pauses. “You’re also an incredibly empathic person…one who believes that all lives are important, no matter who or what that life belongs to.”
I’m silent, letting her words settle over me, and taking the time to process what she’s saying. Unsure of what to say, I simply nod.
“I think that’s a good stopping point for today. You really just jump in with both feet, don’t you?” Catelyn asks.
“I…I suppose I do,” I reply.
“Well, Ares sure did,” Macayla adds. “I’ve never seen a horse do that with a stranger before. I don’t actually think I’ve ever seen a horse do that with anyone before.” She pauses. “You two seem to have a bond. Although that would make sense…he endured a lot of abuse and mistreatment before he came here, so, in a way, you two are alike.”
Once again at a loss for words, I nod.
“You did really well today,” the two women say in unison.
“Jinx!” Macayla exclaims, and I can’t help the faint laugh that slips from me.
“Thank you,” I reply.
The three of us return to the office; I get my next session scheduled and exchange farewells with Macayla and Catelyn, then climb into my car and head toward the compound.
Previous Chapter | Next Chapter
Chapter 142. I don’t know if that was the right call.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x OFC
Word Count: 436
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: mention of death
Chapter: 142/270
Chapter 141 | Chapter 143 | 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.
NOVEMBER 1, 2019 — AVENGERS COMPOUND— BUCKY
I must have dozed off, because I wake to Réa climbing—well, attempting to climb—out of my lap.
“Hi, Réa.”
“I’m sorry I woke you,” she quietly replies.
“It’s fine, sweetheart.” I pause. “Are you…do you need anything?”
“Bathroom.”
I help her up, and she pads into the bathroom, closing the door behind her. Several minutes later, she emerges, then makes her way into her closet. When she returns, I see that she’s swapped my shirt for a giant hoodie and a pair of sweatpants, and my chest tightens as both sadness and rage fill me: sadness at the fact that she feels like she needs to hide, and rage at the monster who made her feel that way to begin with.
“Réa, I have something to tell you—it’s…it’s a bit unsavory—and I need Wanda’s help. Is it okay if she comes here?”
“I…yes,” she quietly replies.
“Okay. I’ll text her in a minute.” I pause. “Is…is there anything I can do for you?”
She moves to her dresser, picking up the white wolf I gave her for Christmas, holding it tightly to her chest.
“Can we sit on the couch? And watch Parks and Recreation?”
I nod. “Yeah, doll. We can do that.”
She pads into the living room and I follow; once we’re settled on the couch—me at my end and Réa at hers—I text Wanda and let her know she can come up.
About ten minutes later, there’s a knock on Réa’s door.
“It’s me,” Wanda says.
“Come in,” Réa calls.
The door opens and Wanda enters; she moves to where Réa and I are seated, settling into one of the armchairs.
“Okay. I’ll start.” I inhale deeply. “I guess the best way to say this is to just say it.”
I hesitate briefly, then speak, my gaze locked on Réa’s.
“Rumlow is dead.”
Réa’s quiet for a minute.
“Are…are you sure? Be-because…i-in L-Lagos…h-he…”
“Yes, I’m sure.”
“B-b-but h-how do y-you kn—”
“Because I killed him,” Wanda says.
I see Réa’s eyes widen, but she doesn’t speak.
“Trust me—trust us—he’s gone.”
Réa nods slowly.
“Okay. Th-thank you f-for t-t-telling me.” She pauses. “I-I’m, u-um…I’m g-going to l-li-lie d-down.”
She stands, and returns to her bedroom, closing the door behind her.
Wanda and I are quiet for several minutes, until I eventually speak.
“I don’t know if that was the right call.”
“It was,” Wanda replies. “Just give her a little time. I’m sure she’s just overwhelmed.”
I nod.
“Yeah…” I reply, but I can’t quite shake the sinking feeling that’s settled in my gut.‘I hope I didn’t make the wrong decision,’ I think.
Previous Chapter | Next Chapter
Chapter 141. You know, I didn’t expect a lot of stealth from you…
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x OFC
Word Count: 374
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: mention of death
Chapter: 141/270
Chapter 140 | Chapter 142 | 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.
NOVEMBER 1, 2019 — AVENGERS COMPOUND — WANDA
I dial Tony’s number; he answers on the third ring.
“What can I do for you, Little Witch?”
“We need to talk. I assume you’re with Morgan and Pepper…can I come up to your suite?”
“Color me intrigued,” he replies. “Yeah, come on up.”
When I arrive at Tony and Pepper’s suite, I walk right in.
“I think we’re past the point of needing pleasantries,” I say in his head.
“Yeah, I suppose we are.” He pauses. “What can I do for you?”
“I guess I should have told you this sooner, but…Rumlow is dead. I killed him.”
Instead of the surprise I expected, Tony just seems…well, like Tony.
“I know,” he says.
“You…you know?!”
“Yeah. I had my suspicions, but I pretty much got my confirmation when Bucky planned the whole ballet thing. He wouldn’t take Réa anywhere like that if Rumlow was alive. Even with all of us there, a place like the Met Opera has too many entrances and exits and variables to guarantee no infiltration.” Tony pauses. “Oh, and Fury and I both felt you in our minds that day he came to the compound with news about a possible location for Rumlow.”
“I…he…you…”
“And then, when there were no more tips about Rumlow, both Fury and I filled in the blanks.” He pauses. “You know, I didn’t expect a lot of stealth from you…but Bucky was an assassin. Literally, he was the scariest, and so stealthy that everyone thought he was a myth.”
“I…”
“It’s alright. I’m not going to say anything. I mean, now that I have actual confirmation, I’ll tell the team—and Fury—that Rumlow’s been dealt with, but won’t go into details. I’ll just say that an extremely trusted source confirmed it. They can make their own assumptions. And Fury isn’t going to be looking to dole out punishment, so no worries there.”
I don’t know what else to say, so I withdraw from his mind.
“Thank you,” I say aloud.
“No thanks necessary.”
I nod, and then leave his suite. I haven’t heard from Bucky yet, so I make my way out to the garden. I settle onto one of the benches by the fountain, letting the sound of the trickling water soothe and ground me.
Previous Chapter | Next Chapter
Chapter 140. …my strong, brave, incredible Réa
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x OFC
Word Count: 1,636
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: nightmare; panic attack; allusion to death
Chapter: 140/270
Chapter 139 | Chapter 141 | 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.
NOVEMBER 1, 2019 — AVENGERS COMPOUND— BUCKY
I wake before my alarm; moving carefully so I don’t wake Réa, I grab my phone and turn the alarm off. Réa murmurs softly in her sleep and snuggles closer to me; her sweet scent of spun sugar and raspberries surrounds me. I look at her face, and can’t help the smile that forms on mine as I take in her serene expression.
As often—okay, always—happens, love and gratitude fill me, along with a sense of awe and just a bit of disbelief at the fact that I’m hers and she’s mine. Back before I fell from the train, I used to think about the future: find a nice girl, fall in love, get married, have kids; the whole ‘house with a picket fence’ scenario…but even in my wildest musings, I never imagined someone like Réa.
‘Because there isn’t anyone like Réa,’ I think.
I lie here, holding this amazing, selfless, kind, loving, gorgeous woman in my arms, and I think about last night.
We enter Réa’s room, and she again asks me if I’m okay.
“Yeah. I’m okay. I’m just…overwhelmed.”
She nods. “I’d imagine so.”
I shake my head, still a bit shocked that a kid dressed up as me for Halloween.
“I…why would he want to be me? Why am I his favorite?” I ask.
Réa’s quiet for a moment.
“‘Out of the mouths of babes’,” she says. “A lot of people think children aren’t perceptive; that they don’t see or can’t understand things. In fact, it’s quite the opposite: they see and understand more than most adults.” She pauses. “Do you remember when I told you about the clairs?”
“Yeah,” I reply with a nod.
“Well, children have them. They use them, until society tells them that they shouldn’t. Imaginary friends are great examples of this: more times than not, the ‘imaginary friend’ isn’t imaginary at all…it’s usually a spirit or a guardian Angel, or sometimes another being…but always something that adults say ‘shouldn’t exist’. Even with proof that magic exists, and that there are beings other than humans in the universe, it’s ignored and forgotten because ‘it’s not real’.” She pauses again. “Sorry, I rambled. Anyway, the point I’m making is that children see things as they are, not as they want them to be or as they think they should be.”
She places her right hand on my cheek.
“You know that all of the Avengers think of you as a good man. You know that I’ve always thought of you as a great man. And knowing that we think of you that way doesn’t mean you always believe it, or believe it at all.” She pauses again. “Now you have proof that someone else—someone guileless—sees you the way we do: for the great, kind, strong, amazing man you are.”
Réa murmurs again, pulling me from the memory. Again, I look at her face, relieved to see a small, soft smile on her lips. I wonder what she’s dreaming about; whatever it is, it’s clearly something that makes her happy.
‘She’s so adorable,’ I think.
I watch her sleep for a while longer, until the sky begins to lighten.
“Réa, sweetheart, wake up,” I say softly as I gently stroke her cheek.
I could just let her sleep and leave her a note—I’ve done that before when I haven’t been able to wake her—I just don’t really like to do that if I can avoid it.
“Come on, doll,” I say a little louder, stroking her cheek again.
“Wanna sleep,” she mumbles.
“You can go back to sleep. Just let me see those pretty eyes first.”
She opens her eyes, and I quickly kiss the tip of her nose, earning a giggle and a grin.
“Okay. I know you have training. Give me a kiss then let me go back to sleep,” she says, her tone playful.
I lean in to give her a kiss; I mean for it to be just a quick, chaste peck, but it turns into something deeper.
“Bucky,” she says as she pulls away, breathing heavily. “You have to go to training.”
“I know, doll.” I press one more kiss—an actual quick peck—to her lips. “Will you still be here when I’m finished? I can come back,” I say, my tone low and husky.
“Odds are good,” she says. “Now go on, you big flirt,” she says with a laugh.
‘God, I love that sound,’ I think.
“Be back soon. I love you,” I say, giving her one more quick kiss.
“I love you too,” she says, and curls up in my spot, snuggling into the pillows. ‘Adorable,’ I think again, then make my way to the gym.
I return from training, entering Réa’s suite. I’ve just taken off my shoes when I hear a quiet whine from the bedroom.
In a flash, I’m sitting on the edge of the bed, taking in Réa’s furrowed brow.
“Réa, sweetheart, wake up,” I say.
She whines again, and rolls from her side to her back.
“Come on, Réa, wake up,” I say louder, brushing her hair back from her face.
As I’m tucking the strands behind her ear, her eyes fly open and she lurches away from me, practically throwing herself out of the bed; she scrambles into the corner, curling herself as small as possible.
“Réa, it’s Bucky,” I say, moving slowly around the bed.
Her eyes dart to me before flicking away, and I notice that they’re wide and terrified, and not fully focused.
“It’s Bucky,” I repeat, sitting cross-legged in front of her, leaving a couple of feet between us. “You’re safe now, Réa. You’re at the compound…you’re home, and you’re safe.”
Her eyes land on me again, and this time they hold. I watch as the unfocused look fades.
“B-Bucky?” she whispers.
“Yeah, Réa. It’s me,” I say.
I slowly reach my hand out toward her, and she flinches, her shoulders bumping into the wall.
“I-I’m s-s-sorry,” she says, and begins to sob, leaning forward so her face rests on her knees.
“You have nothing to apologize for, Réa,” I say, my voice thick. “Absolutely nothing.”
I simply sit and let her cry for a while; when her sobs lessen, I speak softly.
“Do you need to do the grounding technique?”
She shakes her head.
“N-no,” she whispers.
“Do you want anything, or need anything?”
“Y…no,” she quietly responds.
“Réa, those are two opposite things.”
She exhales shakily.
“I…” she begins, then shakes her head.
I sit quietly for several long moments, waiting for her to continue. She doesn’t, so I speak again.
“Do you want me to hold you?”
“Y-yes…but I d-don’t…w-what if…what if I c-ca-can’t han-handle it?” she says, her voice breaking as more tears spill down her cheeks.
‘Oh, sweetheart,’ I think, feeling tears forming in my eyes as my heart breaks for her.
“If you want to, we can try and see. And if it turns out you can’t, that’s okay. I’ll just come back over here and sit with you, or I’ll go. All you have to do is say the word,” I say, doing my best to keep my voice steady, though I can’t stop it from catching a couple of times.
“O…okay,” she whispers.
She slowly scoots toward me, eventually closing the distance and settling onto my lap. I slowly wrap my arms around her as she buries her head in the crook of my neck. She inhales, and then her arms wrap around my neck and she clings tightly to me as more sobs wrack her body.
I don’t speak, I just hold her, gently rubbing her back as she cries. Eventually, her tears stop and her grip on me relaxes. I think she’s fallen asleep, and then she speaks.
“Can w-w-we cu-cuddle?”
“Yeah, Réa, we can cuddle.” I pause. “Couch or in h—”
“In h-here.”
I place my vibranium arm under the bend of her knees and stand, carrying her to the bed.
“How do you wan—”
“C-can…can we s-st-stay like we w-were? Just up h-here?”
“Sure, doll,” I say.
I use my right hand to prop the pillows against the headboard, then sit on the bed, settling Réa into my lap before I lean against the pillows.
“Bucky?” she asks after a while.
“Hmm?”
“C-can I…can I s-s-sleep?”
“Yes, sweetheart. You can sleep. I’ll be right here.”
“Okay.”
A few minutes later, I hear her breathing even out and feel her relax against me. Once I’m certain she’s asleep, I carefully take my phone out of my pocket and text Wanda, asking if she can get into my head right now; almost immediately, I feel her in my mind.
“What’s going on?” Wanda asks.
“We need to tell the others about Rumlow…because I need to tell Réa.” I pause. “I know I said I wasn’t going to waste any of my time with her talking about him, but she…she had a nightmare…a really bad one. I don’t know what exactly it was about, but it was…here, just look.”
I let the memory of what happened replay in my mind.
“I think if she knows he’s gone, it might help some. I don’t expect it to make the nightmares disappear completely, and it might not do anything at all, but maybe it will help a little.”
“You just stay with her, Bucky. I’ll talk to Tony; he can decide what to tell the others.”
“Okay. When Réa wakes up, would you mind coming to her room? I don’t know if she’ll want to see, but just in case she wants proof.”
“Yeah. Just let me know when she wakes up.”
I feel her leave my mind, and I turn all of my attention back to the redhead in my arms.
“I love you, my strong, brave, incredible Réa. I love you so much,” I whisper.
Previous Chapter | Next Chapter
Chapter 139. You’re my favourite Avenger.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x OFC
Word Count: 1,553
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: mention of child with prosthetic; mention of accident resulting in loss of limb
Chapter: 139/270
Chapter 138 | Chapter 140 | 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.
OCTOBER 31, 2019 — AVENGERS COMPOUND— RÉA
The next afternoon, all of us are sitting down to lunch when Tony makes an announcement.
“I’m sure you’re expecting me to announce a party this evening…surprisingly, Halloween is one of the nights that I don’t host a party. I prefer to hand out candy. Plus, I like to see how many kids show up as Iron Man…the record so far is forty-seven.”
“So that’s what the massive stockpile of candy is for,” Sam says.
“The announcement that the compound will be open for trick-or-treating has been circulating for two weeks. We’ll be handing out candy from five until eight this evening…at Pepper’s insistence, I’ll be here the whole time. She and Morgan will be here for a little while, provided Little Miss isn’t snoozing.” He pauses. “Legolas, I know you’ll be gone so you can make the rounds with your kiddos…Thumbelina, will you be staying or going?”
“Margaret and Jim are going to bring Cassie by, but they’re not staying,” Scott says. “They invited me to go with them but I haven’t decided yet. I kind of want to see if any kids show up as Ant-Man!”
“Uh-huh,” Tony says. “Well then,” he continues, “let’s eat!”
After lunch, Tony pulls me aside.
“I don’t expect you to participate tonight. I know it might be overwhelming, and I just wanted to let you know that you don’t have to,” he says.
I nod.
“Thanks…but I want to. I’ll just do candy duty towards the end, after the crowd has thinned a little.”
Tony gives me an appraising look, then nods.
“Okay, kiddo.”
The rest of the afternoon passes fairly quickly. Bucky and Steve decide to go for a run and do some training, so I spend some time in the music room, recording several pieces I’ve been working on. At quarter-to-five, I meet up with Bucky and we head downstairs.
Tony rented several sets of Adirondack furniture, along with a few outdoor heaters and a small, gas fire pit; they’ve been set up on the lawn across from the front doors. Bucky and I make our way over to the area, where Nat, Bruce, Mitchell, Harris, Scott, and Tony are already seated. We settle onto a bench beside the one Nat and Bruce are on, and listen to Bruce and Scott debating which subatomic particle is cooler: a Higgs boson or a Pym particle.
“Obviously, you’re biased toward the Pym particle,” Bruce says. “But a Higgs boson is part of the Higgs field, and without the Higgs field, no other fundamental particles would have mass…including the Pym particle.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, but theoretically, you could use a Pym particle to travel through time,” Scott says.
Bruce scoffs.
“Time travel? That’s a myth.”
“I don’t know. I went to the Quantum Realm and survived…several times. And time moves differently there. It’s a lot slower.”
“Is what they’re saying true?” Bucky whispers.
“I’m, um…I’m actually not allowed to say,” I reply.
“So that’s a ‘yes’, then,” he says.
I hold a finger to my lips in the ‘shhh’ gesture, then give him a wink.
“Let them debate…it keeps them entertained.”
The debate pauses as the trick-or-treaters begin to arrive. The next few hours are filled with the team handing out candy; Bucky and I stay on our bench. Pepper makes a brief appearance to show off Morgan’s Halloween outfit—a long-sleeved, orange onesie with a jack-o’-lantern face, orange and black striped footed leggings, and an orange and black tutu, along with a black headband with an orange bow—before returning to the compound, saying that, even with the heaters, it’s a little too chilly for a newborn.
Bucky and I take over candy duty for the last hour; during a lull, we listen to the updated Avengers costume tally: thirty-one Captain Americas, fifty-two Iron Men, sixteen Hulks, ten Thors, two Visions, eight Black Widows, four Wandas, twelve Hawkeyes, and eleven Falcons.
“And no Ant-Man,” Scott says with a sigh.
“There’s still time,” Wanda says sweetly.
While the rest of the group debates the odds of a tiny Ant-Man showing up, Bucky and I hand out candy to the next wave of kids.
At quarter-’til-eight, there are pretty much only stragglers left.
“Why don’t you go sit with the others? I’m pretty sure I can handle the last fifteen minutes solo,” I tease.
“Okay, doll. If you’re sure.”
“Yeah. Maybe you can get Bruce and Scott debating again,” I say with a giggle.
Bucky pecks my cheeks and then joins the others; I sit in one of the folding camp chairs by the driveway, waiting for more trick-or-treaters. About five minutes later, a minivan pulls up, and six kids and a woman emerge.
“Oh, I love your costumes!” I exclaim as I stand.
The kids form a line, and I hand out candy to a cat, a pirate, a witch, a dinosaur, and….
“Well hi, you two. Could you hold on one second, please?”
The two boys nod, as does the woman.
“Tony. Steve. Bucky. Come here, please,” I turn my head and call over my shoulder.
I turn back to the boys, holding the candy bowl down so they can see into it.
“What would you like?”
“Hey, kiddo, what’s…oh, I see,” Tony says as he and Steve appear beside me. “Hi, I’m Tony Stark,” he says to the woman. “Let’s talk.”
“Hi, Réa, why did y…Buck, hurry up!” Steve yells over his shoulder.
“Y-y-you’re…you’re Captain America!” one of the boys excitedly shouts. “You’re so awesome! You’re my favourite Avenger!”
“Well thank you. I appreciate that a lot. And I’ve gotta say,” Steve says, squatting down to be eye-level with the boy, “the suit looks way cooler on you.”
The boy’s eyes go wide.
“Th-thank you, sir!” He pauses. “I’m Jacob, and this is Adam,” he points to the other boy, who has moved to stand behind him. “He’s my bestest friend in the whole wide world!” He grins, and I see he’s missing one of his front teeth. “He’s also shy,” he whispers.
“I’m here, what’s with all the yelling?” Bucky asks as he joins us.
The little boy—Adam—looks at Bucky and his eyes go wide.
“You’re Sergeant Barnes!” Jacob exclaims. “You used to be the Winter Soldier but now you’re an Avenger. And you have a cool arm! Adam has a different arm, too. See?” He walks behind Adam and nudges the other boy forward.
As soon as Adam is out from behind Jacob, I hear Bucky gasp. He kneels down next to Steve.
“Hi, Adam. I’m Bucky. It’s nice to meet you.”
Adam just stares at Bucky, eyes still as big as saucers.
“Did you get candy?” Bucky asks.
Adam snaps out of his starstruck state and nods. “M&Ms. They’re my favourite.”
Bucky grins. “They’re my favourite, too. They have been for a long time.”
“I always get them when I go to the movies,” Adam says.
Bucky’s grin widens.
“They’re my movie snack, too.”
Adam falls silent again, just staring at Bucky.
“Hey guys, you ready to go?” the woman asks as she and Tony return.
“Yes, Mrs. Sullivan,” Jacob says. “Bye, Mister Captain America. It was nice to meet you!” he exclaims before he runs to the van and climbs inside.
“Adam, are you ready?”
He nods. “Yes, mom.”
Suddenly, he darts forward and flings his arms—flesh and prosthetic—around Bucky’s neck.
“You’re my favourite Avenger,” he says, before he lets go of Bucky and backs up. “Thank you,” he says to me, then heads to the van.
The woman turns to Steve.
“Thank you. Jacob will be talking about that for…well, forever,” she says with a laugh.
She turns to Bucky, and tears well in her eyes.
“And you…thank you is not enough.” She sniffles. “Adam had an accident earlier this year; that’s how he lost his arm,” she says. “You were already his favourite Avenger before that, though. He’ll tell anyone who listens how awesome he thinks you are.” She pauses. “He’s not ashamed of his arm because of you, and I can’t thank you enough for that. I’ve read about what you endured…about how you got that arm…and I will never be able to understand what you went through. I just wanted to tell you that, because of you, there’s a little boy in the world who isn’t ashamed to be who he is.”
Bucky nods, and I see that his eyes hold the sheen of tears, though he holds them back.
“You’re welcome.”
Mrs. Sullivan turns to Tony.
“Mister Stark, thank you again.”
“No thanks necessary. I’ll be in touch tomorrow, and we can discuss further.” He shakes her hand. “You all drive safely.”
With that, Mrs. Sullivan returns to the van; a couple of moments later, it pulls out of the driveway.
Steve and Tony make their way back to the others; I turn to Bucky.
“Are you okay?”
He nods.
“Yeah.” He pauses for a long beat. “He…he was me. He was dressed like me.”
“He was,” I softly reply.
“And he said I’m his favourite Avenger.”
“He did.”
He’s quiet again, and I once again see the sheen of tears in his eyes, though a small smile is on his face.
“Do you want to go inside?”
He nods.
“Yeah.”
“Okay then. Let’s go,” I say, and the two of us head into the compound.
Previous Chapter | Next Chapter
Chapter 138. …safe, and beautiful, and loved.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x OFC
Word Count: 1,647
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: aftercare; showering together (no smut); mention/discussion of subdrop
Chapter: 138/270
Chapter 137 | Chapter 139 | 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.
OCTOBER 30, 2019 — AVENGERS COMPOUND— RÉA
I wake in the same position I was in when I fell asleep: in Bucky’s arms, my head against his chest.
“Hi, sweetheart,” he says as I stretch.
“Hi.” I pause. “What time is it?”
“Almost seven.”
We lie together quietly for a few minutes, then Bucky begins to slip out of bed.
“No, don’t go,” I half-whine. “You’re warm and comfy.”
He chuckles softly.
“I’m going to turn on the shower. I’ll be right back.”
I pout a little, but nod.
He pads into the bathroom and I hear the water turn on; a few moments later, he’s back, lifting me into his arms. He carries me into the shower, setting me on my feet under one of the rain heads.
“Can I wash your hair for you?” he asks.
I’m not going to turn that offer down, so I nod.
“Yes.”
After he finishes my hair, he washes my body, and then leaves me standing under the warm spray while he quickly showers. He shuts off the water and lifts me up, carrying me out of the shower. He wraps me in a fluffy bath sheet, then wraps one around his waist before grabbing a regular towel and drying my hair. He opens the drawer where I keep a few things and takes out a wide-tooth comb, then begins combing my hair.
“Bucky, I can d—”
“Let me, doll,” he says.
“Okay.”
He combs my hair, gently untangling the strands; he grabs a hair tie from the drawer, then plaits my hair into a single tail.
“When did you learn how to do that?” I ask.
“I’ve watched you do it enough times…I also asked Nat and Wanda to teach me.”
I giggle, imagining him plaiting my friends’ hair, especially Nat’s.
“Please tell me there are pictures of that,” I say with another giggle. “I’d pay good money to see them.”
He chuckles softly.
“You’d have to ask one of them. But if not, I’m sure Wanda could just show you.”
Finished with my hair, he dries us off, then hangs up our towels before once again lifting me into his arms.
“Bucky, I can walk,” I say with a laugh.
“I know you can. And we’ve been over this: I like carrying you…I like holding you.”
I melt a little at his words.
“I like it, too,” I say, placing a kiss to his cheek.
He carries me into the bedroom and places me on the bed, then goes to his dresser, opening drawers and taking out one of his t-shirts and a pair of my underwear. He hands them to me, and I dress while I watch him pull on boxer briefs, sweatpants, and a t-shirt.
“You know…this is the only place I don’t wear long sleeves or long pants,” I quietly say, looking down at my hands. “Even in my own room, I do.”
I pause, lifting my head to meet Bucky’s gaze.
“Thank you for making me feel like I don’t have to hide…for always making me feel safe, and beautiful, and loved.”
His eyes soften, the steel blue filled with love and tenderness; he moves toward me, cupping my face in his hands.
“You never have to thank me for that, Réa. Ever. I’ve told you before: it’s a privilege to do so.”
“I love you,” I say.
“I love you, too, sweetheart.”
We’re quiet, just enjoying the moment; the silence is interrupted by my stomach growling.
“Hungry?” Bucky asks.
I nod. “Yeah.”
“Come on, doll,” he says, once again scooping me up. “I’ll feed you.”
He carries me into the living room, setting me on the couch and pulling a soft, plush throw blanket over me and pressing a quick kiss to my lips.
“I’m going to fix supper…you just hang out here.”
I nod.
“Okay. I can do that.”
Bucky gives me a lopsided grin, then heads into the kitchen. I listen to the sounds of him cooking, and after several minutes, a delicious aroma fills the air.
“Whatcha makin’?” I call.
“You’ll see,” he replies.
Eventually, he returns, holding a wooden, handled tray, which he places on the coffee table. I see two large bowls filled with chicken stir fry, two smaller bowls of rice, and two glasses of what looks like iced green tea.
“Thank you, Bucky. This looks—and smells—amazing,” I say as he hands me a bowl of stir fry and a pair of chopsticks.
“You’re welcome.”
We eat on the couch, both of us too busy stuffing our faces to do much talking. Once we’re finished, Bucky gathers the dishes and takes them into the kitchen.
“I can do the dishes. You cooked, I can clean,” I say.
“They’re just going in the dishwasher, doll…you just stay there.”
After a couple of minutes, Bucky once again returns to the couch, picking me up and settling us into our usual cuddling position: me between his legs with my back against his chest.
“Do you want to watch something?” he asks.
“Sure.”
“You pick, doll.”
“The Office?”
“How did I know you were going to say that?” Bucky says with a chuckle as he turns on the show.
We watch quietly for a few minutes, then he speaks again.
“How was the barn?”
“It was actually really great. I have an appointment on Tuesday.”
I tell him about meeting Catelyn and Macayla, and I tell him about Ares.
“I’m going to be doing sessions with him,” I say, and can’t help the hint of pride that fills my tone.
“That’s wonderful, Réa. I’m glad you had a good experience,” he says, gently placing a kiss to my temple.
“I really did. I’m actually looking forward to Tuesday.” I pause. “I like Liv…I just have this feeling that the barn is the best fit for me. I’ll have to call and speak to her, but I think I’m going to move from her practice to just the barn. Although Catelyn and Macayla did say that she could come out and observe some sessions. Like I said, I’ll have to speak to Liv. But that can wait until tomorrow,” I say, turning onto my side and cuddling against Bucky’s chest.
We finish the current episode and are a few minutes into the next when I start to cry, a few tears slipping down my cheeks; of course, Bucky notices.
“Come here,” he says, pulling me higher so that my head rests on his shoulder.
He wraps his arms around me and I bury my head in the crook of his neck, breathing him in, the scents of cedar, vanilla, and cinnamon comforting me.
“I don’t know what’s going on…why I’m crying. I just…I just feel a little…off,” I say.
“It’s called subdrop, or drop. The condensed explanation is that you just spent a decent amount of time in a high state thanks to endorphins, and now your system is trying to regulate and is crashing a little.”
I nod.
“That makes sense,” I sniffle.
“I’ve been trying to mitigate it…I have a list of things that help.”
“Why do I get the feeling that things you do anyway…like baths and showers and naps and cuddles…are on that list?”
“They are. Here,” he says, sitting up, “I’ll be right back. Let me grab my phone, and I’ll show you the list.”
“Okay.”
He gently places me on the couch, then goes into his room, returning with his phone. He settles back onto the couch, gathering me back into his arms.
“Here,” he hands me his phone, open to a browser tab.
I read the list. I was right that some of the things he always does are on the list—bathing, cuddling, and napping being three of the main ones—and I see others that he’s already done: feeding me and turning on a favourite show…in this case, The Office.
“Thank you,” I say softly, handing his phone back to him.
“You don’t need to thank me, Réa. I told you, it’s a privilege to take care of you. Thank you for letting me,” he replies, setting his phone on the coffee table then gently cupping my face in his hands and giving me a tender kiss.
We stay cuddled together on the couch for a while, watching The Office; after a couple more episodes, I start yawning.
“Come on, sweetheart. Bedtime,” Bucky says.
I nod sleepily against his chest, and he stands, keeping me in his arms as he makes his way into the bedroom. He deposits me in the center of the bed, then turns on the candles before closing the door and turning off the overhead lights. He strips off his clothes and returns to the bed in just his boxer briefs, once again settling beside me and pulling the covers over us both before wrapping me up in his arms.
“Te iubesc. Я тебя люблю. Je t’aime. Is ghrá liom thú. I love you,” he says, punctuating each language with a soft kiss.
He’s quiet for a moment, then lets out a small sigh.
“Nope…no matter how many languages I use, there aren’t words to explain just how much I love you.”
My heart soars, and I melt at his words.
“I know what you mean,” I say softly, placing a hand on his cheek and looking into his eyes before pulling him into a kiss.
“ᛁᚴ ᛁᛗ ᚦᚢᛋ ᛚᚢᚠᛁᚨᚾ. Je t’aime. Ki murangen. Σ’αγαπώ. Rikhmith-akh. אני אוהבת אותך. Is ghrá liom thú. I love you.” Like him, I punctuate each language with a soft kiss. “I agreed with you, and I knew you were right…still thought I’d try anyway,” I say, giving him one more kiss.
I return to my usual spot, laying my head on his chest so I can hear his heartbeat. I feel him rest his chin on top of my head, and I fall asleep with a small smile on my face.
Previous Chapter | Next Chapter
Chapter 137. What’s his face ever done for you?
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x OFC
Word Count: 3,322
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; dominant Bucky (again, I don’t think it’s dom!Bucky, but I’m not great at tags 😅); oral (f receiving); traffic light system; edging; masturbation (m); swallowing; fingering; unprotected sex (🫣); penetrative sex (p-in-v sex); aftercare
Chapter: 137/270
Chapter 136 | Chapter 138 | 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.
OCTOBER 30, 2019 — AVENGERS COMPOUND— RÉA
I return to the compound and immediately head to my suite to shower and change clothes.
‘Don’t really want to walk around smelling like eau de horse,’ I think.
I go through my routine quickly; once I’m bathed and dressed, I grab my phone and text Bucky.
A few minutes later, my phone buzzes with a reply.
When I arrive at the gym, I see Bucky in the ring, sparring with Steve. I take a seat on one of the benches against the wall, my eyes on Bucky.
As always, I’m enthralled by how gracefully he moves. His motions are fluid yet controlled, and I can see the strength and power…not just in the movements, but in him.
“Hey, Cupcake,” Sam says, sitting beside me.
As he always does when Sam calls me by the nickname he came up with the first time I baked cupcakes, Bucky glares at him…this time, it’s a sideways look.
“Oooo, the Bionic Staring Machine is making his grumpy face,” Sam says. “Although it’s not that different from his regular face.”
“I like his face,” I murmur absently, still staring at Bucky.
“Why?” Sam laughs. “What’s his face ever done for you?”
I see Bucky freeze for just a moment; it’s long enough that the leg sweep Steve was doing connects, and Bucky hits the mat, landing flat on his back.
“You’re lucky. Since you like it so much, you should probably thank Steve for not hitting him in it. He left him all pretty for you,” Sam teases.
Steve extends his hand to help Bucky up, grinning and shaking his head.
“Sam, stop being a distraction,” he calls out, laughter in his voice.
“Alright. But you knocked Bucky down, so you win. And I get winner. So let’s go, old man,” Sam replies, standing and striding toward the ring.
“You good with that, Buck?” Steve asks.
“Yeah, I’m good,” Bucky says, leaving the ring and making his way to me.
“Hi, doll,” he places a quick peck to my lips, then holds his hand out to me.
“Hi,” I say, taking his hand and standing.
We take the lift to our floor, and I follow Bucky into his room.
“So,” I say as I slip my alpargatas off, leaving them by the door, “I’ve never seen Steve manage to beat you before. Has he ever beaten you before?”
“Once…back when I was still the Winter Solider. We were fighting on one of the Insight helicarriers, and he managed to get me in a sleeper hold.” He pauses. “Cheater,” he mutters under his breath.
I can’t help but giggle at that remark.
“So that time, and then today…when you froze.” I hesitate. “Why did you freeze?”
“Because of Sam’s comment,” he replies.
I tilt my head and give him a quizzical look.
“Sam’s comment?” I ask.
“‘What’s his face ever done for you?’…does that ring a bell?”
“I mean, I heard him say that, but I don’t know why that would…” I trail off with a shrug.
“Really doll? You have no idea?”
I shake my head.
“I froze…” he says, his tone turning sensual, “because all I could think about were all of the orgasms you’ve gotten on my face.”
My eyes widen and my cheeks heat; I’m sure my face is crimson.
“Y-you…I-I…uh…” I stammer.
“Have you not figured out that I’d be happy to have you do that all the time?” he continues in that same erotic tone.
I seem to have forgotten how to speak; I can’t do anything except stare at him, my eyes wide and cheeks flaming as he walks toward me, closing the small distance between us.
“If I could spend forever with my face buried between your beautiful thighs, I would.”
At those words, a soft whine escapes me, and a rush of liquid heat pools between my legs.
Bucky’s nostrils flare and he licks his lips before he pulls me against him, crushing his mouth to mine in a searing kiss. Suddenly, he ends the kiss, and throws me over his shoulder; he strides into the bathroom, setting me on the counter then entering the shower enclosure, turning on the water.
“Strip,” he says when he emerges from the shower; his tone is heavy and carnal, and that dark, potent look from the other day is back in his eyes.
I do as he says, peeling off my shirt and dropping it on the counter beside me. I unhook my bra, shrugging out of the garment and dropping it on top of my shirt. I start to slide off the counter, but Bucky steps toward me, his hands landing on my hips. He wraps his vibranium arm around my waist and lifts me slightly; his right hand grabs the waistband of my leggings and my underwear, and he pulls both down to my thighs. He sinks to his knees, pulling the material the rest of the way off, tossing the garments to the side.
“Keep your eyes on me, Réa,” he says.
I nod.
“Use your words.”
“Okay,” I reply.
With his eyes on mine, he trails kisses up my right leg before pulling me to the edge of the counter and burying his face between my thighs.
“Oh gods,” I gasp as his tongue flicks over my clit before he spears it inside me, something he’s only done once before, the night he had his nightmare.
This time, however, he doesn’t stop. He continues thrusting his tongue inside me as he brings his right thumb to my clit, circling the sensitive bud; the familiar pressure begins to build in my belly.
“Bucky,” I moan as my channel flutters around his tongue.
Just as I’m about to climax, he stops.
“Wha—”
“Patience,” he says.
He stands and takes a step back; he strips off his workout clothes, and my pulse spikes as my eyes rove over his naked form.
‘He’s so beautiful,’ I think.
He closes the small gap between us, placing his hands on either side of me and leaning in.
“Here’s what’s going to happen,” he says, his lips just barely brushing against mine as he speaks. “I’m going to take a shower…and you’re going to stay right here…” he takes my hands in his and places them on the counter, “…just like this.”
“O-okay,” I say.
He straightens, then makes his way into the shower enclosure. I sit on the counter, waiting; eventually, the water shuts off and Bucky steps out of the shower, toweling off. His eyes are fixed to mine, and my pulse spikes again when I see that they’re still filled with that same carnal look.
“Go stand by the bed,” he says.
I slip off of the counter and pad into the bedroom, stopping at the bedside; Bucky’s right behind me.
“Lie down in the middle of the bed,” he says. “On your back.”
The erotic tone of his voice sends fire racing through my veins. I do as he says, and once I’m lying down, he speaks again.
“What I have in mind is going to be very intense. You’re probably going to say you can’t take anymore, and not actually mean it…so you’re going to need to use colours. Green means ‘I’m okay’ or ‘good to go’; yellow means ‘slow down’ or ‘ease up’; red means ‘stop’.” He pauses. “Repeat them back to me.”
“Green is okay; yellow is ease up; red is stop,” I say.
He nods.
“F.R.I.D.A.Y., please soundproof the room.”
“Yes, Sergeant Barnes,” the A.I. replies.
“Alright, doll….” Bucky says. “Put your hands against the headboard, and leave them there until I say you can move them.”
I place my hands on the headboard, my gaze still locked with his.
“I have two more rules for you, Réa: the first is that you keep those pretty eyes on me, no matter what…the second is that you can’t cum until I say.” He pauses. “Do you understand?”
I nod.
“Use your words, doll.”
“Y-yes,” I breathe.
“Yes, what?”
I frown in puzzlement.
“Yes, B—”
“The word you’re looking for is ‘sir’,” he says.
“Y-yes, s-sir,” I say, the heat in my veins rising.
“Good girl.”
I can’t help but whimper as his words cause my core to clench.
“Colour?” he asks as he settles between my legs, lying on his stomach.
“Green,” I reply, my voice breathy.
I’ve barely gotten the word out before his mouth is on me, his tongue licking over my entrance before settling on my clit, flicking and circling it. He hooks my legs over his shoulders; his arms wrap around my thighs and he uses his thumbs to spread me open. The next swirl of his tongue feels more intense, and I can’t help rocking my hips into him.
“Bucky…oh, gods,” I gasp, using all my willpower to keep my eyes on him; to stop them from closing as pleasure sizzles through me.
He growls against me, the sound vibrating through my clit and causing another wave of arousal to pool between my thighs. His tongue moves from my clit to my entrance, licking before once again spearing inside me, stroking my walls as he thrusts in and out; in no time at all, that familiar pressure is building again, rising like a wave in my belly. Just as the wave is about to break, he stops. He kneels between my legs, not touching me, just keeping his eyes on mine. It’s quiet for several minutes, then he settles back onto his stomach and speaks.
“Colour?”
“Green.”
Like before, I barely get the word out before he’s on me. He licks and sucks like a man starved, drawing gasps and moans from me as the pressure in my belly once again begins to build. Just as I’m about to peak, he stops. Again, he kneels between my legs, not touching me, his gaze holding mine.
He does this eight more times, always asking for a colour first. When he stops this time, I can’t help the whine that slips from me.
“Bucky, please.”
“Don’t worry, baby. I’m not even close to being done with you,” he says, settling onto his stomach. “Colour?”
“Gre-green,” I pant.
Again, he buries his face between my thighs; this time, I can’t stop my reaction…my head falls back and my eyes close. Immediately, he stops.
“Oh, doll. You were being such a good girl…what happened?” he asks as he sits up.
“I…I…” I try to respond, but my brain is fuzzy with pleasure and I can’t seem to form a coherent sentence; all I can think about is him doing that again, and not stopping.
“I think it’s time to try something different,” he says, moving so that he’s kneeling beside me.
His hand wraps around his length and he begins to stroke himself; he groans quietly.
All I can think is that I want to feel him in my mouth and taste him on my tongue…that I want to be the reason he’s making sounds like that; I want to be the one making him feel good.
“Bucky, please,” I lick my lips. “I want to—”
“To what? Hmm?” he asks. “To suck my cock?”
I nod emphatically.
“Words, Réa.”
“Yes.”
“Yes, what?”
“Yes, sir. I w-want…I want to suck your c-cock. I want to m-make you c-cum. Please.”
He licks his lips, and shakes his head.
“Only good girls get to play…you were being a good girl, but then you stopped. So now you have to just watch.”
His hand continues moving over his thick length; I watch, fire coursing through my veins, as he works himself closer and closer to release. Eventually, his hips stutter, and I know that means he’s close; as I watch, he continues, then squeezes his hand tightly around himself.
“Open your mouth,” he practically growls.
‘Oh, gods, yes,’ I think.
I open my mouth and he slides inside; he relaxes his grip, and his release fills my mouth. I swallow it all, humming softly in pleasure.
He pulls out of my mouth and takes a moment to catch his breath, then he once again lies on his stomach between my legs.
“What are the rules, Réa?”
“Eyes on you, no matter what,” I pant. “Keep my hands on the headboard. A-and I can’t c-cum until you say.”
“Good girl,” he says. “Colour?”
“Green.”
He does what he did before…he brings me to the edge ten more times, but doesn’t let me go over. At this point, I’m a whimpering, needy, begging mess; I just want to cum.
“P-ple-please, B-Bucky. Please,” I whine.
“I told you…I’m not even close to being done with you,” he says. “Colour?”
“Gre-green.”
He dives back between my thighs; he hooks my legs over his shoulders and places his right hand on my mound, his thumb just barely brushing my clit before pulling back toward his hand. When he licks my clit again, the sensation is way more intense than it’s ever been—even compared to what he did earlier—and it doesn’t take long until I’m close to climaxing.
Bucky stops just long enough to speak.
“You can cum, Réa,” he says.
He returns to what he was doing, working my clit with his tongue, and in mere seconds, I’m falling apart, screaming his name as I’m thrown over the edge of release into the most powerful, intense orgasm I’ve ever had.
He doesn’t stop; he keeps licking and sucking my clit, and slides two of his vibranium fingers inside me, pressing against that spot on my front wall.
“O-oh gods, Bucky, I-I can’t, I c-can’t,” I gasp as I writhe beneath him.
He lifts his mouth from me, his fingers still pressing that spot.
“Colour?”
“Gre-gre-green,” I pant.
“Good girl…now, I’m changing one of the rules. Instead of cumming when I say…you cum until I tell you to stop.”
He returns his mouth to my clit, sucking the nerve-filled bud between his lips before he lightly scrapes it with his teeth, sending me into another orgasm. He continues doing this, over and over and over, drawing climax after climax from me, his gaze locked on mine.
“P-please, please, please,” I whimper, and I don’t know whether I’m begging for him to stop or to keep going…I just know that my body feels like a live wire and my mind is hazy with pleasure.
He lifts his head, replacing his tongue with his vibranium thumb, circling my clit as his metal fingers continue curling into that spot inside me.
“You’re falling apart so beautifully for me…you look incredible like this,” he says, his tone low and gravelly. “Such a good girl.”
At his words, I fly over the edge again, core clenching around his fingers; the sensation nearly overwhelms me.
“Y-yel…y-yellow,” I gasp.
Bucky immediately withdraws his fingers from me, moving his vibranium hand away from my centre. His right hand rubs gentle circles on my thigh as he lifts his left hand, sucking his fingers into his mouth and licking them clean; his eyes fall shut and an absolutely sinful groan escapes him.
The sight of him enjoying that causes my centre to contract, and I can’t help but whimper as the involuntary reaction sends another wave of pleasure through me.
He opens his eyes, returning his gaze to mine; he places his vibranium hand by my shoulder, leaning his weight on it. His right hand glides up my body before sliding into my hair, and he pulls me into a steamy, scorching kiss.
“Roll over. Get on your knees; chest on the bed, hands still on the headboard,” he says when he breaks the kiss.
Surprised that I can even move at all, I do as he says, turning my head to the side so my cheek rests on the bed. His hands grip my hips and he presses his body to mine; I push back against him, reveling in the feeling of his hard length against me.
“Colour, Réa?”
Even though my body still feels like a live wire, I want to see what else he has in mind.
“Green.”
As soon as I say the word, I feel him start to slide into me; he’s barely gotten inside me when my channel flutters around him.
“Oh, gods,” I moan when he’s fully seated.
He sets a rapid pace, his hands on my hips pulling me back against him as he moves inside me. All I can do is moan and whimper as the delicious pressure builds within me.
“B-Buc…Bucky,” I whimper.
“That’s it, baby. Give it to me. Let me feel you,” he pants, his voice husky.
As always, my body reacts to his words and his tone, and I fall apart around him; I feel his hips stutter and him thrust deep as he spills inside me, holding me tightly to him.
We stay like that for a while—at least I think it’s a while; I don’t really have any concept of time at this point.
“You can take your hands off of the headboard, doll,” Bucky says softly.
I move my hands, tucking them underneath me, curling them against my chest.
“I’m going to go get a warm washcloth and a dry towel…I’ll be back in just a minute.”
I nod, too tired and blissed out to even manage an ‘okay’. Bucky pulls out of me, and I feel the bed shift as he stands. I hear him walk into the bathroom, and the sound of the water running. Eventually, the water shuts off and Bucky returns.
“I’m going to clean you up, doll, and then I’m going to bring you something to eat. After that, we’ll lie down, alright?”
I nod again, and he gently runs the warm, damp, cloth between my legs then dries me with the towel. I hear him take the towels to the hamper, then come back to the bed. He gently lifts me and folds the covers down; he settles me onto the mattress, propping me up with his pillows then pulling the covers over me.
“I’ll be right back, sweetheart,” he says, pressing a gentle kiss to my lips.
I hear him leave the room and the sounds of him in the kitchen; he returns with a small plate in one hand and a bottle of water in the other.
“Here, doll…apple slices and peanut butter,” he says, handing me the plate.
I eat half of the apple slices and drink the whole bottle of water before a giant yawn escapes me. I hand the plate back to Bucky.
“Sleep?” I ask.
“Yeah, Réa…let me take this to the kitchen, then we can sleep,” he says.
I lay the pillows flat, then scoot down further under the covers. Bucky returns a few moments later, slipping under the covers beside me. He wraps his arms around me and holds me close, his vibranium hand gently rubbing my back.
I nuzzle my face into his chest, breathing in his soothing scent of cedar, vanilla, and cinnamon, and let out a sigh of contentment.
“You alright, sweetheart?” he asks.
“Yeah,” I say. “Yes, I’m alright.”
He places a finger under my chin and tilts my head up to meet his gaze, cupping my face with his right hand, his thumb stroking over my cheek.
“Thank you for trusting me,” he says, his voice thick with emotion. “I love you, Réa…so incredibly much.”
“I’ll always trust you,” I reply, my tone matching his. “I love you, Bucky, more than I’ll ever be able to say.”
I stretch up and give him a tender kiss before cuddling back against his chest. Another yawn slips from me, and I feel him press a kiss to the top of my head.
“Sleep sweet, doll.”
“Sleep sweet, mo ghrá.”
It doesn’t take me long to drift off; I fall asleep to the sound of Bucky’s heartbeat and the feeling of his arms around me.
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