#first attempt at painting sam

[cockworkangels]

tried out painting my favourite little guy :)

[rock-eating-emo-girl]

Hey, Abs, question. What the flip did you mean by this.

Oh. I think you know, Samson. We all know

[drabblesandsnippets]

The Bet

Hot Bucky Summer 2024 - Week 1

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Plus-size female character (unnamed)

Prompt: “Louder, let everyone hear you.” | [Screaming/Noisy Sex | Gangbang | Exhibiotionism] @buckybarnesevents

Summary: (7k) Bucky’s girlfriend thinks she can stay quiet during sex - Bucky’s more than happy to prove her wrong.

Warnings: 18+ Only. Fluff. Established relationship. Praise. Brief mention of insecurities. Dirty talk. Domination. Oral (f receiving). Fingering. Squirting. (Unprotected) PiV.

---------------------------

“Wait,” Bucky says, reaching for the remote yet again. “Why does she even care? I thought she hated him.”

Bucky and his girlfriend are cuddling on their king-sized bed, enjoying another quiet night at home - something their friends like to tease them about, but they’ll never change. Home is where all their favorite things are. 

The moment Bucky pauses the show - for what feels like the hundredth time since they started the episode - she buries her face against his chest, her groan slightly muffled by his shirt.

Bucky’s laughter gently shakes her body as he asks, “What? I’m trying to understand!”

She picks her head up to glare at him, only slightly frustrated, a smile twitching at the corners of her mouth. “You’d understand if we started from the beginning instead!”

She’s been trying to get him to watch her favorite show for months now, and when he randomly suggested they watch the latest episode tonight, she wasn’t going to argue.

She’s regretting that now.

For someone as intelligent as Bucky, he’s oblivious to the inner workings of TV drama.

Bucky blinks slowly at her response, his eyes wide like she just said they should’ve gone to Sam’s impromptu karaoke party. And then he lets out an incredulous laugh, quick to point out, “There are ten seasons of this show! By the time we get caught up, there will be at least five more.” 

Her mouth opens in surprise, and she pushes herself up, one hand on his stomach, her other hand moving to her chest like he’s just wounded her.

“First of all, there are six seasons.” Bucky playfully groans in response, the pout on her face telling him exactly where she’s going with this. “And even if there were ten seasons, you wouldn’t want to watch them with me?”

“Okay.” Bucky’s laughter reaches his eyes as he tosses the remote to the side - it’s clear he’s not going to be pressing play anytime soon.

He looks adoringly at his girlfriend as he sits up with her, his gaze never wavering. “Doll. Sweetheart. Love of my life. I’d enjoy watching paint dry with you.” 

Her smile almost breaks through, but she holds back, patiently waiting for him to continue. He’s either about to make too much sense, or he’s about to dig the hole deeper. 

After a soft, dramatic sigh, he gently tells her, “But, we haven’t even gotten through this episode, and it’s already been over an hour.”

The moment he says it, he has to hold back his laughter, her response exactly what he’s expecting.

Her mouth drops open again, and she laughs at the ridiculous notion that she’s to blame for their time-management issues.

With a quick shake of her head, and resisting the urge to poke him, she quickly points out, “You keep pausing to ask questions!” 

The moment the words are out of her mouth, Bucky seems almost too eager to remind her of several moments that had nothing to do with him. Sure, he’s partly to blame, but most of the interruptions had nothing to do with him.

Like during the first five minutes when she kept getting up because she forgot something. Or when she had to search a familiar looking actor.

“Or,” Bucky continues, his tone gentle, even though he’s clearly enjoying himself. “When you swore you’d heard that one song before-.” 

She cuts Bucky off before he can finish the last thought, shoving one of the pillows in his face, his hands quickly deflecting it.

“I get it!” she says, laughing with him as he pulls the pillow away from her before she can attempt to hit him with it again.

His slightly raised eyebrow tells her he’s waiting to see if she’s going to try to defend herself.

“Fine,” she relents, giving him another exaggerated pout that makes him grin. “I guess no marathons for us then.”

She glances at the TV where the episode is still paused before turning her attention back to Bucky, her own grin growing. “At least,” she starts, her eyebrow raising suggestively. “No marathons of the TV variety.”

Bucky laughs, a surge of arousal rushing over him at the mere suggestion, but has to shake his head, the disappointment clear on his face.

With a pointed look, he reminds her, “Sam’s down the hall.”

Sam materialized on their doorstep a couple of days ago to stake claim to their guestroom once again, this time while in the city for a friend’s birthday. 

There hadn’t been any objections at the time - and there aren’t any now, as far as Bucky’s concerned.

He really doesn’t care if Sam hears them having sex. It’s not like Bucky’s never overheard him before. But Bucky knows his girlfriend. If she thinks Sam might have heard her, it’ll take her weeks before she’ll be able to be in the same room as him without turning red. 

She’s not thinking about any of that, though.

It’s been a few days since there’s even been an opportunity for them to get lost in each other, and she doesn’t want to waste this one.

With a smile and a slight shrug, she simply says, “So? I can be quiet.” 

Bucky’s bark of laughter rings out, and she narrows her eyes at him. Before she can even think about it, he quickly grabs the pillow still sitting between them so she can’t throw it at him and instead flings it to the side, making her laugh. 

“What?” she asks, still feeling confident in her words. “I can be!”

“No,” Bucky says, trying to hold back his laughter as he shakes his head at her. The simple refusal of her statement makes her lips part in a surprised exhale, but before she can make an argument, he adds, “You are entirely incapable of being quiet, doll.”

He can’t help but lean just a bit closer to whisper, “Especially with me.” 

That feels like a challenge to her. And even though she knows Bucky is probably right, she can’t just give in. She’s just as stubborn as he is, and she knows exactly how to play this.

With a quick flick of her tongue to wet her lips, she leans towards him, their mouths almost close enough to touch, and asks, “Wanna bet?”

Her question has the desired effect, causing Bucky’s stomach to flutter with a rush of excitement. She’s a strong, confident, capable woman, and there’s almost nothing she can’t do, especially once she puts her mind to it.

But, there’s not a doubt in his mind that he’ll have her screaming by the end of the night.

Bucky’s hand reaches out to brush a few strands of hair away from her face, his eyes glancing at her mouth as he starts to close the short distance.

Her hope to feel his lips on hers fades quickly, though, Bucky pausing to grin at her, needing to set the terms of their deal first. 

“When you lose, we’re finally getting that swing.” 

For the briefest of moments, she hesitates. The idea of a sex swing excites her, and it’s something they’ve been discussing for months - even going so far as to choose their favorite - but the intimidating feeling of being on display like that has never faded.

Bucky’s only ever made her feel beautiful, and sexy, and desirable, but that doesn’t mean he can completely erase decades' worth of insecurities. 

Bucky doesn’t rush her, not with something like this. He’ll give her all the time in the world to decide if this is a bet she’s willing to take. And if she decides she’s not ready, then he’ll accept that without hesitation, no matter how much he wants her to say yes. 

The anticipation is short lived though, because a smile spreads across her face and before she even says, “deal” he’s already hard, imagining how incredible she’ll look suspended and tied up for him, completely at his mercy.

There are so many possibilities, and the sooner he wins, the sooner he gets to make them all a reality.

Her lashes flutter when Bucky’s hand moves along her scalp, his fingers sliding through her hair to softly grip the strands. She allows him tilt her head back, putting her in the perfect position for him to finally kiss her, and she tries to remain patient. 

It doesn’t matter, though, because after just a soft brush of his lips against hers, he’s pulling away again, the grin on his face causing her to let out a frustrated sigh.

As much as Bucky wants to just jump right into this with her, the faint taste of her on his lips making his cock twitch, he’s taking this bet seriously. 

He meets her gaze, holding her head steady, and says, “We gotta set some ground rules first.”

She breathes heavily but doesn’t move, waiting for him to continue, wanting this just as much as he does.

“No covering your mouth,” he tells her, increasing the hold of her hair, making her gasp softly.

Bucky doesn’t miss the way her thighs tense with arousal, and he groans softly, pulling her closer so his lips brush across the corner of her mouth. “That includes no biting me.” 

She lets out a soft exhale of a laugh, but doesn’t object, no matter how much she enjoys sinking her teeth into him when he’s fucking her hard.

And considering this bet and what’s at stake here, there are no plans to go slow tonight. 

With a slight nod of her head, his fingers limiting her movement, she agrees, but she’s unable to stop herself from still being a bit of a brat. “Is that all?”

Bucky pulls back, narrowing his eyes at her, his breathing slowing down as he fights the urge to smile. He loves when she pushes back - it’s her way of telling him not to go easy on her. 

“No,” he answers her, his vibranium hand suddenly coming up to wrap around her throat.

The brief flash of surprise that crosses her face is quickly replaced by a look of pure desire, her trust in him radiating off of her. It encourages him to keep going, his need for her reaching new heights.

“You’re also not allowed to tell me to stop just because you can’t be quiet.”

Her body tingles with pleasure, just like it always does when he takes charge, and she has to bite back a moan as the ache between her thighs intensifies.

She’s playing with fire, but all it does is excite her, even as she briefly wonders if she has an ounce of a chance of winning this bet. 

The moment he asks if she agrees to the terms, she answers without hesitation, telling him, “Yes.”

With a cheeky grin, she adds, “And I look forward to winning.”

That’s all Bucky needs to hear and he pulls her against him, crashing his mouth against hers, his tongue immediately demanding entrance.

With his hand around her throat and his fingers gripping her hair, he keeps her in place so he can kiss her, leaving her breathless and desperate for more.

As much as Bucky enjoys taking his time with her, he’s on a mission tonight.

There’s a primal urge to claim her, to prove how quickly he can make her lose control. And there’s no doubt that he’s going to win this bet.

Within just a couple minutes, Bucky has her naked and writhing underneath him, her head resting on a pillow.

His lips follow a slow trail from her neck to her breasts, taking a moment to focus on her sensitive nipples, giving them both the attention they deserve, his ears trained on the soft noises of pleasure already leaving her. 

Her hands never leave his body, needing something to hold onto to keep her focus, her fingers gently tugging at his hair while her other hand grabs at his shoulder, pressing against the defined muscle.

She’s already having to force herself to take slow, deep breaths, the occasional shift of hips causing his hard cock to tease along her wetness, making her want to beg for more.

She remains as quiet as possible though, her eyes drifting closed as Bucky’s mouth travels lower, taking his time to place tender kisses all over her soft stomach, reminding her how much he loves every single inch of her.

He doesn’t even care that she’s not looking at him right now. He’s just grateful for the way she gives herself to him, trusting him to treat her like she deserves.

With one last glance up, Bucky eagerly settles between her thighs, the smell of her filling his nostrils, making his mouth water.

The soft groan that leaves him makes her hips twitch, and he pauses for a second to take her in, both hands coming up to keep her spread wide for him.

She’s already so wet, the sight of her swollen clit just begging to be licked, and he can’t wait to hear her come apart for him.

The first slow swipe of his tongue along her slit causes her body to tense, the sudden sensation making her breath hitch, almost making her forget all about the bet.

Bucky learned her body so quickly when they first became intimate, and now, the familiar swirl of his tongue around her clit immediately makes her back arch, a moan getting trapped in her throat.

He loves the taste of her, happy to spend as much time between her thighs as she lets him, and even though that’s not what tonight is about, he still takes a moment to appreciate the delicious meal she’s offering him.

He alternates between long licks, and fucking her with his tongue, grinding his soft beard against her pussy to get as deep as he can, as if starved for more of her. 

Despite Bucky’s own noises of pleasure getting louder, hers remain low, and it’s not long before the desire to hear her scream builds inside of him again.

Without warning, his mouth suddenly closes over her clit, his tongue resuming the perfect rhythm against the bundle of nerves and his hands grips her thighs, holding her in place.

She cuts off the harsh gasp that spills out of her, and her fingers tighten their grip on his hair as her hips move against his mouth, chasing her pleasure.

Despite half her focus on keeping her sounds under control, he’s still able to quickly bring her to the edge, and her other hand grips the bedsheet as the tension suddenly snaps.

As much as it turns Bucky on to watch her and feel her come for him, there’s something wrong about not hearing her as she loses control.

He refuses to pull away though, his mouth working her through her orgasm, his hands holding her, letting her ride out the waves. His own hips grinding against the mattress, his cock hard and heavy, aching for relief.

When she becomes too sensitive, he takes pity on her and quickly kisses back up her body, giving her a moment to catch her breath.

Her need for him is too overwhelming though, and within seconds, she meets him in a kiss, moaning at the taste of herself on his tongue. 

She doesn’t allow herself to get lost in the moment for too long, her body craving more, and she reaches between them, her fingers wrapping around his thick cock, ready to remind him that she still has a chance of winning this bet. 

Bucky welcomes her touch, his hips thrusting forward, groaning against her mouth.

She takes advantage of his pleasure-filled state, rubbing her thumb across the head of his cock, the tip slick with his arousal, and proudly states, “I told you I could be quiet.” 

The laugh he makes in return sends a shiver down her back, and she can barely quiet the soft squeak as he pulls her hand away, his fingers wrapped around her delicate wrist.

He’s always careful not to cause her any real discomfort, but the look he gives her still makes her freeze, wondering what she’s gotten herself into.

“Oh sweetheart,” Bucky chuckles, slowly pinning her hands over her head as he starts to grind his cock against her. “We’re barely getting started.”

Her body tenses in anticipation, expecting him to thrust inside of her, but he doesn’t change his pace, his eyes taking in how beautiful she looks, all desperate and needy, her skin flushed.

Even after all this time with him, she’s still not used to all the attention he gives her, and she’s grateful that he allows her to move with him.

Each shift of her hips makes her breath quicken just a bit more, the length of his cock sliding along her clit, and she’s pretty sure she could come just like this. 

The thought of it makes her body pulse with arousal, and she quickly nods her head, breathing quickly. “Please,” she whispers, her fingers flexing under his hold.

He grins down at her, tightening his grip slightly, keeping the same pace, watching her fight between completely giving in and trying to silence her noises.

Bucky wants the noises. He needs them. He needs to hear her whines and moans and cries as he brings her pleasure.

She’s clearly determined to win this, but so is he. And the moment he feels her almost reaching the edge, he suddenly stops, pulling his hips out of reach of her.

She has no idea how, but she manages to keep the whine of “no” down, her voice almost betraying her. Bucky’s soft laughter helps keep her focused, though, and she glares at him, breathing heavily.

Her mouth opens in protest, but before she can even think of how to react, his vibranium hand closes around her throat, pushing her down against the bed. 

“Oh god,” is all she can say, her voice trembling as she tries to mentally prepare herself for whatever Bucky has planned.

He knows her too well though, and the moment he moves, she almost loses the bet.

His right hand slides between her thighs, and in one smooth motion, he fills her with two fingers, curling them inside of her to press against her front wall.

She bites her lip hard enough to almost draw blood, but she’s able to dampen her cry of pleasure as she throws her head back, both hands now gripping the sheet. 

Bucky gives her no time to gather her composure before he starts moving, the heel of his hand rubbing hard against her clit while his fingers stroke over her g-spot.

She may not be speaking, but her body is talking, the sounds of her wetness filling the air. He growls his approval and leans over her, his metal fingers twitching against her throat.

“Listen to that,” he murmurs, watching her as he quickly works her towards another orgasm. “Your pussy’s talking to me, doll. Just begging for more.”

She pulls her lips inward between her teeth, biting down as she breathes heavily through her nose, the pleasure starting to make it harder to focus.

His words aren’t making it any easier, but she’s grateful that he doesn’t make her look at him, her eyes currently shut tight, her head pressing into the pillow underneath her. 

There’s something so intoxicating to Bucky about being in charge of her pleasure, and he knows he’ll never get enough of her.

For just a moment, he forgets about the bet, his eyes taking in the way she writhes underneath his touch, everything about her encouraging him to keep going. Her back arching, her legs spread, hips thrusting in time with his hand as he fucks her deep and hard.

Except, she’s still keeping her noises to a minimum. Even as she starts to breathe quicker, the gasps turning to shuddering sighs, she manages to somehow keep it all under control.

And it’s starting to get under Bucky’s skin. He can’t be a gracious loser when it comes to this.

That primal feeling resurfaces in Bucky, the urge to take her hard and fast igniting inside of him. But, first, he needs to make her come again.

He quickly moves his left hand down her body, pressing hard against her clit, giving him the ability to fuck her harder with his fingers.

Her eyes roll back in her head, and she nearly screams, his fingers deep inside of her, curled and rubbing hard against the spongy tissue.

She can feel the pressure building, and she grabs her legs, her hands wrapping around her ankles to keep her spread wide for Bucky.

“That’s it,” he encourages her, just as breathless as she is, his body humming with pleasure. “Can feel you, sweetheart,” he moans, grinding harder against her clit, knowing exactly what she needs to get over the edge. “Doing so good for me. Gonna come all over my fingers, aren’t you?”

She quickly nods her head, but she can’t trust herself to speak. She can barely breathe anyway as her fingers dig into her ankles, the slight pain giving her something to focus on, reminding her of the stakes here.

She’s so overwhelmed, and he hasn’t even fucked her with his cock yet. She has no idea how she’s going to win this bet.

She can’t think about that right now though, because her entire body suddenly tenses, and she squirts, coating his hand with her juices.

She barely hears Bucky’s groan of approval, but his words of praise quickly flood her brain, and she comes for him, using every bit of energy to not cry out.

“Good girl. Fuck, look at you,” his deep voice adds to the pleasure still washing over her and she lets go of her ankles to reach out for Bucky, needing him.

He quickly joins her, resting some of his weight on top of her, letting her cling to him as her body shudders, her hips riding his fingers. 

“You feel so fucking good,” he murmurs against her neck, his fingers buried deep inside of her, savoring the way her pussy pulses with each wave of pleasure. “I think I should I make you come again, just like this.”

He’s only half-serious, his cock aching to be inside of her.

Her expected whine makes him laugh, and he curls his fingers inside of her again, easily finding that spot that makes her tremble.

She’s still sensitive from her orgasm, but her mind is starting to clear, and she immediately shakes her head. “Absolutely not.” Another breathy moan, and then, “I think you should let me suck your cock.”

Bucky groans, allowing himself to briefly consider it, but kisses her softly and tells her no.

As much as they both enjoy when he fucks her mouth, it’s not going to help him win this bet. Her mouth needs to be free to make all those beautiful noises.

“I think you’re forgetting the point here, doll.” he teases, sitting up between her thighs and slowly sliding his fingers out of her dripping pussy.

She doesn’t even try to stop the soft whine from the loss, and he grins at her, watching her as he lifts his fingers to his mouth, licking the delicious taste off both digits. 

The sight of him clearly enjoying himself makes her want to bring him more pleasure, and she leans up to kiss him again, welcoming the taste of her wetness on his lips and tongue.

When her teeth playfully bite at his bottom lip, his fingers tangle in her hair to pull her head back, meeting her grin with one of his own.

“How about I put my cock somewhere else?” 

The smile on her face grows, despite her slight disappointment at not getting to have him in her mouth. And as Bucky rests back on his knees, she slides her hands down to touch herself, giving him an even better view of her wet pussy. 

The action immediately makes him groan, and his hands move to her ankles, gripping them to steady himself. After all this time, she still has the ability to catch him off guard, and it makes him love her even more.

They both watch as he moves his hips forward to slide his cock along her slick slit, almost slipping inside her before gliding up to tease her exposed clit.

The movement sends a jolt of pleasure through both of them, and she lets out a soft whine, shifting her hips to try to guide him to where he needs to be.

It’s futile, though. Bucky’s doing this on purpose. Trying to make her forget the bet, but she keeps herself under control, breathing heavily through her nose, proving to him she’s just as dedicated as he is.

With a longing look on her face, and another shift of her hips, she pleads, “Fuck me.”

Bucky’s fingers tighten around her ankles, but he stays exactly where he is, continuing to tease her with the head of his cock. “You sure you’re ready?”

His gentle tone makes her laugh softly, but he shakes his head at her, his eyes dark with desire.

“I’m serious, doll.” His breathing is just as heavy as hers, his body tense from trying to control himself. “I’m planning to fuck you until you scream for me.”

She’s far from making objections, her need for him overwhelming. As if he needs any more encouragement, she licks her lips and raises her brow at him, declaring yet again, “I’m going to win this bet.”

His laugh sends another shiver down her spine and a pulse of pleasure straight to her clit. There’s no way she’s winning this bet, but she’s going to have fun losing.

Bucky angles his hips, their bodies fitting together perfectly, and as the tip of his cock pushes against her entrance, he tells her, “Arms over your head.”

She narrows her eyes at him but doesn’t question it, knowing there’s a good reason for it. And she’s excited to find out what it is. 

The moment her hands grip the pillow under her head, he smirks at her and snaps his hips, burying himself inside of her.

A harsh gasp leaves her, but it’s not loud enough to make her lose and she throws her head back, biting her lips to keep her mouth shut as he starts to fuck her hard. 

Bucky pushes her legs back, spreading her wider as he finds a quick rhythm. His own noises of pleasure get louder, but he does nothing to quiet them.

He knows how much she craves the sounds he makes, the pleasure she gives him like nothing he’s ever experienced. 

“Oh fuck,” he groans, trying not to squeeze her ankles too hard, “you feel so good, baby. So wet, oh my god.”

She can’t look at him. She clings to the pillow underneath her, her forearms cradling her head as she does everything in her power not to cry out. His cock feels so good inside of her, reaching all the spots that make her toes curl and her body shudder in pleasure.

Bucky is more than desperate to hear more from her. The soft gasps and whimpers doing nothing to quell the ache to experience her pleasure at its fullest.

He’s used to her cries and moans filling the room, and while everything about her is telling him she’s enjoying herself, it’s not nearly enough. 

“Stay just like that,” he orders her, sliding his hands down, squeezing her thick thighs as keeps moving, his hips never faltering.

She’s in no mood to disobey, willingly letting him fuck her towards yet another orgasm. Bucky can feel her tightening, her walls trying to keep him in place on each outstroke.

“That’s it. You wanna come for me again? Wanna come all over my cock?”

She can’t trust her voice and all she can do is nod her head, finally opening her eyes to look up at him.

He immediately growls and leans forward, letting her thighs spread around him as his hands go to her bouncing tits, making her back arch, allowing him even deeper.

Bucky curses again, her wetness allowing him to bottom out each time, and he can feel his own orgasm building, the sight of her writhing underneath him almost too much.

“Fuck,” he growls, his right hand moving to her stomach, loving the feel of his fingers digging into her soft flesh, his hips never slowing. “You feel so good. Come on, come for me, doll, let me feel you.”

All it takes is one brush of his thumb over clit and she comes again, her fingers sore from her tight grip the pillow. But all she can focus on is the electric current of pleasure rushing through her, the tension causing her to clench her teeth.

She resists the urge to press her face against her arm, and somehow manages to make it through the intense pleasure with only making soft, breathy moans.

It’s at this point that something in Bucky snaps.

He fucks her through the waves of pleasure, waiting until her body finally starts to relax, before he suddenly pulls out.

The whine she makes is louder than all the sounds she’s made tonight, and she opens her mouth in surprise, looking up at him with wide eyes.

“I’m not quite done with you yet,” he promises her, the gruffness of his voice making her hips shift.

Bucky chuckles softly and runs his hands over her body, his fingers dancing over her throat before sliding down between her breasts. 

Before he does anything else, he checks in with her. “You ready to keep going?”

Her words come easy this time. “Yes, please," she smiles, lifting her hips again as if to entice him.

He has other plans though, and instructs her to turn over, the roughness of his voice returning. The excitement on her face is clear as she quickly obeys, getting into position - head down, ass up.

Bucky takes a moment to appreciate the view, the desire to claim her burning him up. He controls his breathing and reaches out, running his palm along her back and down to her ass, relishing the way she immediately spreads her thighs even more.

“Good girl,” he praises her, his voice deep with admiration. And then he slaps her ass, hard enough to make her gasp, and she turns her head to look over her shoulder at him.

They grin at each other, and he does it again, making her groan softly, but she pushes back, welcoming the sting. 

Bucky’s hand rubs across the pinkening skin as his metal hand slips between her thighs, teasing her with his fingertips.

She’s more than ready for him to keep fucking her, but he still asks again, needing to hear her give him permission one final time.

As soon as she utters the soft plea of ‘yes, please’ he’s lining up behind her, his hand wrapped around his thick shaft to guide himself back to her welcoming pussy.

He wastes no time and sinks into her with a soft groan, her hot, slick walls enveloping his hard cock like she was made for him. 

Bucky takes her slowly at first, the feel of her pussy fluttering with each long stroke of his cock making it difficult to focus.

She’s so sensitive, and with each deep thrust, her soft noises start to get just a bit louder, reminding him he’s on the right track.

His tender touches start to become a bit firmer, and as her hips begin to meet his with more force, he suddenly grips her waist.

Bucky plans to do whatever it takes to elicit louder noises from her, and without warning, he starts to piston his hips, making her take all of him, over and over. 

This time she’s expecting it though and has just enough time to grit her teeth, each thrust making her gasp, her breath coming quick and shallow.

It’s taking all of her focus not to give in and let herself lose the bet already; she’s just too stubborn to give in, no matter how good Bucky is making her feel.

The irritation grows in Bucky, her lack of noise starting to feel personal, and his hands move to her hips, grabbing fistfuls of her ass as he starts to fuck her harder.

He watches as her back arches and her fingers grip the bedsheets, each deep thrust causing her legs start to shake again. She’s almost there. He can feel it.

She whines his name, and her hands scramble to grip the edge of the mattress, keeping her head turned, refusing to bury her face in the covers.

“Oh sweetheart,” he murmurs, the tenderness a stark contrast to the way he’s fucking her. “Gonna squirt for me again, aren’t you?”

All she can do is nod her head, her eyes shut tight, trying her best to keep her noises under control. But, with each thrust of his cock, she feels herself slipping, her skin breaking out in a light sheen of sweat. 

It’s like a breath of fresh air to Bucky, watching as she starts to slowly lose control.

Any other time, he might take it easy on her, wanting her to be proud of herself for doing something she didn’t think she could do.

But, he’s way past that point now. 

Now, all he wants is to make her lose control and scream for him. And he has one more trick up his sleeve.

Bucky’s strong hands slide up along her back as he raises himself up, placing his feet flat on the bed in order to crouch over her, keeping his cock buried inside of her.

“Oh god,” she breathes, her eyes rolling back in her head as she tries to prepare herself.

She loves this position, but it’s going to be her downfall. And it’s clear Bucky knows it, because the moment he starts moving his hips, he starts talking to her, the growl in his voice pushing her closer to the edge.

“That’s right. Told you I was gonna fuck you until you scream for me.” 

He fucks her hard, the angle making his cock rub against her g-spot with each stroke, and she can feel the coil in her belly tightening.

She can no longer stop her noises from getting louder, and without thinking, she makes a desperate move to regain some semblance of composure.

With a quick pull of her elbows, she buries her face between her forearms, trying to quiet the cry of pleasure as she reaches a breaking point.

Bucky won’t allow it though, and grabs a fistful of her hair, forcing her head to the side.

“Fucking take it,” he demands, grunting with each hard thrust, “fucking take all of me.”

It’s too much. She can’t hold on anymore and her body tenses, her tightening pussy almost pushing him out.

“That’s it!” he growls. “Come for me, baby! God, I love you so fucking much.”

She sobs as her stomach tenses and she squirts, each hard thrust causing her wetness to run down her thighs and soak the sheets.

He talks her through it, like he always does, telling her how beautiful she is, how good she feels, and how much he loves making her come for him. 

Even as her body pulses from the aftershocks, Bucky keeps going, slowing his pace as he settles back to his knees behind her, trying to help her come down slowly.

She was loud, but not enough to satisfy his need to hear her scream.

“I need you to give me one more,” he murmurs, running his hands along her sweaty back. 

She whispers his name and shakes her head, her trembling limbs trying to give out on her.

Bucky’s quick to guide her onto her back again, this time slipping a pillow underneath to raise her hips.

He’s already fucked her senseless - she’s barely able to keep her eyes open - but he knows she has one more to give him.

Bucky starts slow again, giving her time to come back down, waiting until she can finally look up at him, still clearly cock-drunk.

He murmurs words of praise, telling her once again how beautiful she is, splayed out like this for him, her arms over her head, her thighs spread wide.

“You’re gonna look so good in that swing, sweetheart. All tied up and on display for me.”

Whatever insecurities that usually run through her mind are absent, and she moans at his words, starting to slowly move her hips against him, welcoming his cock back inside of her.

The image of being completely at his mercy makes her body pulse, and Bucky smiles down at her, sliding his hands along the sensitive skin of her thighs, just taking another moment to truly appreciate her. 

At this point, it doesn’t matter how he makes her come. She’s going to scream for him either way, all her inhibitions now gone that the bet is over.

And that frees him up to give her everything she could possibly need. “Tell me how you wanna come this time.” 

She breathes heavily and just slowly shakes her head for a moment, still not sure she has anything left to give.

But, if there’s anyone that can pull it out of her it’s Bucky. 

He waits patiently, fucking her slowly, barely pulling out before sliding back in until he’s completely sheathed. “Do you want me to keep fucking you like this?”

His fingers slowly move to her pussy, watching the way her body takes him so perfectly as his thumb finds her clit.

“Or do you need something else?” 

The shaking of her head turns into nods and she tries to find her voice as her back arches, her body welcoming the intense pleasure.

Her body is so sensitive, like every nerve ending is exposed, and she’s still not sure what she needs. Bucky will give her whatever she asks for, but she’s too lost in the moment to answer him.

As much as he’s enjoying the unfiltered sounds coming out of her, he needs her to talk. He needs to know she��s still with him, that she truly wants him to keep going.

“Sweetheart.”

There’s a slight edge to his tone, and she meets his eyes again, a soft smile forming on her face.

He grins down at her and nods encouragingly, “I need your words.”

She nods again, but as she starts to say “I want-” her words are cut off by a soft whine, Bucky’s cock bottoming out inside of her, finding that spot that makes her legs shake.

They both laugh softly, and she shakes her head at him before she finally finishes her thought, “I want you to come with me.”

A deep moan leaves Bucky at her request, his grip on her thighs tightening as he resists the urge to start moving faster.

“Is that what you need?” he asks, starting to lean forward, peppering kisses along her breasts and collarbone.

Her answer of ‘yes’ comes quickly and he starts to rock against her, grinding his pelvis against her clit.

“Yes,” she repeats, the simple word causing pleasure to race up Bucky’s spine.

He drops to his elbows, caging her in, and they both start moving at the same time, her legs wrapped around him, encouraging his hard thrusts.

“Yes, fuck me, oh my god.” She doesn’t care how loud she is anymore, the cries and moans leaving her without a second thought. 

Bucky’s already close, her pussy practically milking his cock, each flutter making him groan. But, he’s a man of his word and he’s not going to let himself give into the pleasure until she comes one more time.

“You feel so fucking good,” he moans, panting above her, unable to tear his gaze away, committing this moment to memory. “Such a perfect pussy, baby. Just made to take my cock.”

She clings to him, her nails scratching down his back, sure to leave marks. But he welcomes it, the sting adding to his pleasure, watching as she cries out, her body starting to tense, her final orgasm building.

When she whines his name, he hears the apprehension in her voice, as if to warn him that this one’s going to overwhelm her. 

Bucky’s fingers slide through her hair, and he cradles her head, forcing her to keep looking at him.

“It’s okay,” he promises her. “Give it to me. Give me everything.” Her back arches and her pussy tightens, the sounds of her wetness filling the air as she starts to squirt again. “Fuck yes, come for me!”

And she does, her breath hitching as the sudden explosion of pleasure rocks her body.

Bucky doesn’t stop, moving hard and fast against her, forcing his cock to stay inside of her, even as her walls clench around him, almost pushing him out.

She cries out, finally giving him what he’s been working towards all night, her scream of pleasure sure to wake the neighbors. 

Bucky can barely hold back, his own orgasm threatening to consume him, but he fights through it, giving her a few more seconds of his attention.

“That’s it, scream for me. Let everyone fucking hear you.”

But then she’s begging him to come too, her sobs of pleasure pushing him over the edge, and he kisses her hard, his tongue sliding along hers.

All his senses are consumed by her, every single part of him entirely overwhelmed with pleasure, the rhythm of his hips faltering as his cock pulses, filling her up with his cum.

After a few more lazy thrusts, their hips finally come to a stop, and he groans against her mouth, collapsing on top of her. 

They’re both panting, their arms wrapped around each other, Bucky’s weight a welcome feeling as he starts to nuzzle her neck, breathing in her scent.

They take their time coming back down, murmuring words of love and affection, their lips eventually meeting again in a soft, tender kiss. 

She barely registers him rolling them over, but makes a soft noise of protest when he slowly pulls out.

Bucky’s own sigh joins hers, the loss of her warmth making his softening cock twitch. If it wasn’t so late, and she wasn’t clearly spent, he’d happily go another round.

For now, they snuggle quietly, her head resting on his chest, listening to his heartbeat while his fingers make slow, soothing strokes along her back.

Bucky’s sensitive ears pick up the steady rhythm of her heart as well, the sound a constant comfort to him even on his hardest days. 

Eventually, they finally move, sharing another brief kiss and exchanging words of love yet again, neither of them ever tiring of hearing it - or professing it to each other.

But, they need to clean up, his release still leaking out of her, leaving her slick - and he’s not much better off, their combined fluids matting the hair at the base of his cock.

Bucky’s first to finish in the attached bathroom, and he’s already in bed when she returns, the covers pulled up to his stomach, his phone in his hands.

The silly grin on his face makes her laugh, and she climbs onto the bed, asking him, “What are you up to?”

He gives her a quick glance, his bright smile making her heart flutter as he returns his attention back to his phone.

“I’m purchasing that sex swing.” 

---------------------------

Part 2 (????)

Hot Bucky Summer Masterlist

Main Masterlist

[dcxdpdabbles]

DCxDP Fic idea: What's the Rule again?

It starts with Wes Weston accidentally banishing Danny from his haunt. He didn't mean to, and he panicked along side Sam and Tucker when Danny was effectively evicted Danny from Amity Park.

See the four have become tight-knited friends every since the trio started talking to Wes back during the summer between freshman and sophomore year.

During that time, Wes's other friends had drifted apart once Wes' attention moved from basketball to ghosts- specifically Phantom. Danny had felt at fault that he was left a loner because of his secret identity and had invited Wes to sit with them at the Nasty Burger the second week of Summer break.

Wes was suprise to find out that Sam, Tucker and Danny were much better friends then the ones he hanged out with since third grade. He was used to people only speaking to him in class or the few times they hang out on breaks but the trio would message him about every single thought or meme they had. They could laugh togther until tears fell from thier eyes and they couldn't breath over the silliest of topics.

Wes also found out that the trio was supportive of all their interests. Sure, his old teammates and friends didn't make fun of him for crocheting or painting, but they wouldn't accompany him to an art market. Nor would they actually wear the scarves and gloves he made them.

They sure as hell didn't volunteer to help him run a booth to sell his own crocheting pieces after encouraging him to get a table. And they wouldn't cheer loudly when he made his first sale.

Wes also wouldn't have happily gone with them to an observatory, a Dark Poem Night, or even a tech expo. But he found that he had the time of his life watching Danny, Sam, and Tucker nerd out at the events much as much as he did at his own.

He also never had anyone he knew would be down to do him favors or even take notes for him when he was out sick.

So he became close friends with them, passing sophomore year with far more enjoyment than any other grade, then Junior year came and went just as fast and as fun. It was their last summer as high school students, so Wes wanted to do as many new activities as the four could together before Senior year.

Who knew what would happen to their little group after graduation? He wants to think they would all remain best friends but he's heard so many stories of people drifting apart that Wes was afraid of risking it.

That's why he researched urban myths and legends around the world regarding ghosts- more then any research paper he's ever done- and jokingly asked Danny to partake in some of them as a halfa.

They joked and laughed- throwing salt in a circle around Danny, lighting a candle for him to use Morse code with- but it wasn't until Wes got to the one where he tried smoking Danny out with a banishing spell he found in an old book that things turned from funny to horrible.

It worked

Danny was flung from his haunt- effectively banishing him from the area he was haunting. Dann just happens to be haunting all of Amity Park, so he ends up on the outskirts of town, unable to cross the invisible line.

Wes practically choked on his tears as he apologized for Danny not being able to cross back in, but the other three quickly informed him that they, too, took part in it, and it was no one's fault. Danny just had to find a way to reverse the banishing spell.

The only problem was that the book pages Wes found online were only on the banish spell itself and nothing else. He couldn't even find the whole book since it belonged in a private family library.

The family library was located in the most dangerous city in America. Gotham.

The library also belongs to a very wealthy family that had recently all but perished except for their lone heir- Timothy Drake.

Now Wes attempted to contact Timothy Drake in hopes of having the other teenager send him copies of the book, but he never got a reply. He thinks it was due to not explaining why he needed the book and ending up sounding like a bot or a scam.

With each passing day of Drake not responding Danny's situation grew worse. Jazz luckily covered for them, claiming to have signed Danny up for some camp so his parents wouldn't think he was missing.

That would only work until school started, which was a time limit that was weighing on all their shoulders as they tried to find a counterspell.

Jazz, Tucker, Sam, and Wes each took turns driving out of town to bring him food and a change of clothes so Danny could figure out his situation, having to do it in shifts to not alert any of their parents.

However, without his haunt to pick up natural exoplasm, Danny was growing weaker and weaker by the day, looking half stave out in the little motel room Sam rented for him as they tried to get him back into the town.

Danny needed to either make his way back to his haunt or go somewhere that was so infected with ectoplasm that it actually felt cursed.

Tucker found the solution to all their problems with a few hacking skills that he learned to fight off Technus' invasive attempts of his personal tech.

"A full ride to Gotham Academy?" Wes' mom gasped staring at the acceptance letter her son eagerly showed her. "With a promised full ride to any university in America?!"

"Yeah, Tucker, Sam, Danny, and I all got accepted for our work on clean energy generators. We sent it in for the Wayne scholarship, and we won! The only thing is that it's a requirement to graduate from high school in Gotham. I have to go!" Wes gasped, eyeing both his dad's and Kyle's doubtful frowns. He couldn't afford for them to say no when Tucker had worked so hard to bump them up as Winners. Bruce Wayne's computer security is no joke. "This is the once in a life time opportunity!"

"But where would you live?" His dad asks, shaking the letter. "Wes, this is clear across states, and it only covers school expenses."

"Sam's parents bought her a house. She's going to rent us some of the extra rooms." It was a lie; her parents would never let four boys- especially these boys- rent from their daughter. She told them that the school provided co-dorm rooms "I can get a job at the local library- I already sent them my resume and got a call for a interview."

"What will you do for food?" Kyle asks. "We both know you can't cook."

"I can't, but Danny does. He's amazing in the kitchen."

Here, his parents share a loaded look. "So you'll be living with the Fenton boy....."

"Well. Yeah? I already said that?" He returns, confused, and Kuule coughs to cover a laugh. Confused he stares at his older brother, who quirks a grin at him.

"Don't worry about it." Kyle laughs, but his wiggling eyebrows tell Wes he should worry a lot about it. He would inisit a little more to find out what Kyle knew, but he needed to convince his parents more.

Eventually, after five days of attempting, Wes got their permission and could tell his friends, who all shared the same results. The remainder of the summer is spent preparing for their move- finding the house, getting it furnished, packing their things, transferring schools- it's a lot, and he's never been so grateful for Sam's wealth.

She hires people to get it all done for her-including hiring a trailer to take their four cars-, so he only has to worry about his packing. The four meet up at the airport on the day they live, flying first class thanks to Sam's grandmother.

Tearful goodbyes and good luck from their families leave them all a bit down but they board the plane and take off without too much trouble.

While on the plane, Sam turns to the boys. "Does everyone remember the phases of the plan?"

"Phase one: Blend into Gotham until we find Timothy Drake" Tucker states, pushing up his glasses

"Phase two: Get Drake to invite us over to his house and find the book," Danny tacks on, tapping his foot on the ground.

"Phase three: Find all the pieces for the counterspell- usually scattered around the magical family's ancestral home- and get Danny home!" Wes shouts, raising a fist in the air.

Sam nods, looking satisfied. "And what are we not allowed to do? Danny?"

"Become a vigilante when my ectoplasm is on a limited intake" Danny grumbles, sinking into his chair. "Let it to the Bats and keep my head low."

"Good. Tucker?"

"I'm not allowed to hack into anything because it can gain the attention of the Bats or Mr.Wayne, and then we'll be on a wanted list" Tucker sighs "No matter how much fun it would be to battle it out with the legendary Oracle."

"That's right. I'm not allowed to go anywhere near Poison Ivy no matter how much I want to yell at her to go fix the coal riffs and cut down forests instead of wasting her powers on the stupid heist." Same all but bites, and then she turns her attention to Wes, who startles.

"Wes?"

"Wait, I have a rule?"

"Course, man," Tucker laughs. "We all have rules."

"But I'm not interesrted in anything in Gotham besides the Drake grimoire!"

"Wes," Danny says gently, his soft baby blue eyes making him a little hot under the collar as they stare into his soul. "You're not allowed to fall in love with any of the Bats."

Wes mind blanks, then reboots, "Excuse me!?"

"We know you had a crush on all of us here Wes and Val" Sam laughs when he turns wide eyes at her. "It's cute but you really shouldn't try for the Bats. They're the violent sort"

"What?!"

"Yeah, you have a type, and it's a hero or hero adjacent." Tucker shrugs "It's cool."

Wes can only gape at them, no matter how much he tries to convince them; otherwise, the three refuse to remove his rule. He is highly offended by it.

Yes, he's never really gone out with Team Phantom, just because when he joined the group, most of Danny's rouges were long gone leaving behind the tiny ones that he could handle on his own, but he wasn't into heroes!

And okay- maybe, maybe at one point or another he may have had slight crushes on his friends but they were quick and gone before the first school year together!

So the rule is utterly ridiculous!

At least, he thinks so until five days later when he's trying to find his way around the new neighborhood and gets caught up in a mugging. He could have quickly taken the mugger- humans had nothing on ghosts- but he attempted to talk the young adult out of it when Red Robin swooped in like a knight in shining armor.

He may have just stared at the hero's tight-skin outfit instead of letting the hero know that he could handle it, and he may have made a fool of himself when Red Robin asked if he was right.

"Yeah tots fine" He babbles. Ugh, who says tots?! He wants to stop talking but when Wes gets nervous he tends to just word vomit and he could hear himself doing it now. "You know who else is fine?"

Red Robbin raises a brow, likely knowing the pickup line. Cowering, Wes changes the answer in a panic. "Timothy Drake!"

Red Robin stills. "Come again?"

"Timothy Drake, a boy in my class! He's fine that you think he was part siren or something. You've seen him, right? I mean you have eyes!" He repeats with a squeal "I want to get into his private liberty!"

"Do you?" Red Robin tilts his head, a slight smirk forming on his mouth. "You should try flirting with him then. Maybe he can give you a tour."

"Oh, I want more than a tour!"

Why did he say that?!

At least the hero in front of him laughs until a shout has them both looking away.

Danny is running down the street screaming his name, thank the Ancients. When Wes turns around to wave at him, Red Robin vanishes without a sound or trace.

Like a ghost.

Oh no, that's hot.

"Danny, I broke the rule"

"For Ancient's sake, it hasn't even been a month."

[starry-bi-sky]

Danyal Al Ghul: Incorrect Quotes and Miscellaneous Thoughts

Incorrect quotes-style snippets specifically for my danyal al ghul au here (which i really need to come up with a unique au name for atp). Because I thought it'd be funny. And also some miscellaneous headcanons thrown into the mix. Some context for the au: - Danyal is 5 years older than Damian (so 10 and 15) - Danny faked his death when he was 10. Talia knows and helped him with it. - Jazz, Sam, and Tucker do not know he's an ex-assassin.

-------- Snippet 1

Danny, dryly tapping his temple: I have, as the Americans say, irreparable psychological damage, right here.

Jazz, an older sibling first and foremost: well, it's good that you're self-aware.

-------- Snippet 2

Danny, aged 10, in the American foster planning to just age out of the system: *emanating Bad Vibes. Pure, Little Orphan Tom Riddle Energy*

Jazz, aged 12, coming in to adopt a new sibling with her parents: Him. This is my brother now :)

Danny: ...what

--------

Lilo and Stitch is Danny's favorite Disney movie. He watched it when he was 11 with Jazz when she was attempting to connect with him, and by this point Danny was becoming receptive to her efforts. They had a movie marathon in the living room one night.

Safe to say? It resonated with his little 11 year old heart strongly, and he related very strongly with both Nani and Stitch. He got unexpectedly emotional and hid in his room for the rest of the night. Jazz felt really bad, but it had the intended (but kinda unexpected) effect of him trying to be nicer to her afterwards.

-------- Snippet 3

Dash, aged 12, causing trouble again and getting intercepted by Danny: *scaling up a desk* AHHHHH! GET YOUR LITTLE FREAK, FOLEY!

Tucker: Hey! Danny is not a freak!

Dash: GET HIM TO BACK OFF

Tucker, was the kid Dash was messing with: ....whats in it for me

-------- Snippet 4

Danny, saying some questionably immoral shit: What. Why are you looking at me like that.

Tucker: Bro. I mean this as kindly as possible; what the fuck?

Sam: yeah, I'm with Tuck on this one.

-------- Snippet 5

Danny, ranting about Vlad: if it weren't for the laws of this land, I would have slaughtered him

Sam, painting his nails black: I'm pretty sure you'd slaughter him regardless of the laws of the land -- and quit moving, you're gonna mess me up.

Tucker: we've literally seen you debate yourself about this, Dan

Danny: ...you are correct, but it is the principle of things.

-------- Snippet 6

Vlad: I have experience my child, and the money and power attained through using those powers for personal gain, you say. I could train you, teach you everything I know! And all you have to do is renounce that idiot adoptive father of yours.

Danny, was already contemplating committing a Violence: ....

Danny, internally: I'm going to stab him *turns into Phantom*

--------

Funny contrast I realized between Danyal and Vlad that iirc I haven't pointed out yet is that imo, Danyal doesn't rely on his powers nearly half as much as canon Danny does. He falls back instinctually on his League training, and thus sometimes forgets to use his powers in battle. This was prevalent especially early on when he was still getting used to the whole 'halfa' thing.

He incorporates them more often after a year, but still for the most part relies on his own physical hand-to-hand combat. He trusts those skills much more than he does his powers. I'm not sure where he is on a technical level compared to canon, but just to stay safe I'll say he's similar in power skill as canon Danny. Perhaps a little more finessed than him because his League training would probably have him trying to figure out his powers as soon as possible.

But in summary? Danny is strong in hand-to-hand combat, weak in powerset.

Meanwhile Vlad is the opposite. I can't recall if he even knows hand-to-hand in canon, but it makes total sense to me that Vlad Masters wouldn't because he's so confident in his monetary influence and ghost abilities that he sees no need for it.

And he's kinda got some merit behind it. He's very powerful and has 20 years of experience to experiment and fine tune his powers. He's got bite to follow up his bark. He's perfected long-range combat and his ability to phase through walls makes it impossible to corner him, but if you can manage it, then one good hit could probably knock him on his ass.

So in summary, Vlad is strong in powerset, weak in hand-to-hand combat.

And it casts a good contrast between the two of them in that regard. Danny, as a fellow halfa, can follow Vlad when he phases through walls and is fast enough to land a hit on him. His league training as an assassin, albeit rusty, is still deep ingrained enough in him that he can hold up as a rather veritable threat against Vlad without needing his powers.

But Vlad can force Danny to use his powers more often through use of his own. The duplication is the first thing to come to mind: Danny's fast enough to dispel them on his own without powers, and smart enough that he could figure out who the real one is if given a few minute. But that's not always efficient enough.

Good foils for each other that way. Also Vlad's Plasmius design mimics Ra's juuust enough that he looks like Ra's knockoff loser second cousin no one talks about, which only fuels Danny's hatred.

-------- Snippet 7

Danny, ranting about Vlad for the first time: --and it's only made worse by the fact that the little ingrate resembles a cheap knock-off of my grandfather!--

Sam, choking on her water: he what--

Tucker, doing a spittake: HE DOES?

[heytheredelulu]

Unbreakable - The After Years

Follow up to Unbreakable, my Bucky Barnes x Reader fic.

ALL OF MY WORK IS 18+

C/W: Language, sexual references

You don’t get pregnant after that first time. You hadn’t been in your fertile window but were still disappointed with your negative test despite knowing it wouldn’t have been positive when you took it.

When your period came, Bucky brought you your favorite snacks, bought you a new fluffy blanket and a pack of ovulation tests that he gave to you with a tender kiss on the forehead.

The first time you got the smiley face on your ovulation test you nearly tackled him when he came through the door that evening, brandishing the test stick at him and peppering kisses on every bare inch of skin you could find.

He made love to you constantly, regardless of where you were in your cycle, just craving the intimacy of being raw inside you, of the feeling of his warm, thick cum spilling within you. He’d rut himself deep into you, kissing your cervix with the tip of his cock, desperate to be as far in you as he could physically be.

You knew you were pregnant before you even took the test. You’d been cooking dinner and Alpine had hopped onto the counter, craving a good ole head scratch and the idea of cat fur where you were plating your food sent you into a violent gagging fit.

You called Sarah, Sam’s sister and your best friend and she squealed so loud you nearly dropped your phone. She stayed on FaceTime with you while you anxiously took the test, not even needing to wait the full three minutes for the results because you had a blazing positive the moment your urine passed through the window. You made her promise not to speak a word of it to Sam before you had the chance to tell Bucky.

He could sense something was up the moment he got home. His enhanced senses followed your strange new scent into the living room and when his eyes met yours, he knew- he knew you were carrying his child. Tears brimmed his lower lids the second you stood up and he pulled you into a tight embrace, kissing you fiercely as he cried tears of joy.

Bucky was attentive and overly protective of you l you anyways and once you were pregnant he became over the top to say the least. He doted on you constantly, always asking, “Are you feeling okay, Angel?” “Have you eaten today?” “What can I get you?” Sam and Sarah always teased him, saying he would treat you as if you were made of glass.

He accompanied you to every appointment, his foot tapping anxiously before every ultrasound, his eyes wet with tears every time he had the opportunity to see the small little movements on the screen, every time he heard the fast paced thump thump thump of his baby’s heartbeat inside your womb.

The first time he felt her kick- his daughter- his flesh hand was resting affectionately against the swell of your abdomen, where it lay almost any chance he had. You’d been watching a movie, lounged on the couch together with Alpine curled in his lap. The tiny flutter against his palm drew a sharp gasp from his chest, his eyes wide as he whispered in a voice of disbelief, “Angel, I felt her. She’s kicking. She’s kicking, isn’t she?”

Bucky was the first to buy things for his baby girl. He constantly came home with outfits, bows and blankets, excitedly showing you what he’d picked out. Anytime a package arrive in the mail you knew it was something else he’d bought for your daughter, spending entirely too much time online shopping once he’d figured out how to navigate Amazon.

You’d painted the nursery together, laughing and teasing him once you’d finished and he began attempting to put together the crib. The instructions ended up crumpled in a ball as he wiped sweat off his forehead, motherfucking the pieces laid out on the floor in front of him. Once he’d finally conquered ‘the damn thing’ you kissed him deeply as you admired the nursery, the kiss quickly becoming gentle touches and heavy breathing until you made love on the soft carpeted floor. He took his time exploring every inch of your body, his thrusts careful, slow and sensual as if you were the most precious thing he’d ever touched.

Your water broke late in the evening, while he was drawing you a bath to soak your sore back and swollen ankles. Bucky raced around the house in a panic, passing the hospital bag several times while looking for it as you watched with an amused smirk. “Baby, take a breath.” You told him, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. “It’s gonna be fine.”

Your labor was long and hours blurred together amidst the pain and anxiety but Bucky never left your side. He held your hand, pushed your hair off your forehead and whispered words of praise and encouragement against your ear as he kissed your temple. At one point he climbed into the bed with you, settling his powerful frame behind you as he drew you to his broad chest, holding you against him as you labored until it was time to push. Fortunately you didn’t have to push for long before the tiny cry echoed through the room, choked sobs of joy and relief bubbling up from your chest as you slumped back against your weeping husband.

Once you were comfortable, your small, perfect daughter resting against your chest, Bucky headed out into the waiting room with wet cheeks and a proud grin. “Winnifred. Winnifred Natasha Barnes.” He told Sam and Sarah as they stood up excitedly to hug him after having waited for hours for her arrival.

Winnie was a daddy’s girl and she had Bucky wrapped around her finger from the first moment he held her. She looked like you, with his blue eyes and his dark hair and you frequently argued playfully over whose nose she had. Named affectionately after his mother and your fallen friend and teammate, as she grew into her toddler years she definitely gave you both a run for your money as she perfectly emulated Natasha’s fiery personality.

Bucky couldn’t have been more wrong in his fear of being a father. He was the most attentive and loving dad you’d ever seen and you often found yourself lingering in the doorway at night, your heart swelling with love at the sight of the two of them curled up in the rocking chair after having fallen asleep mid bedtime story.

Bucky loved being a father so much that shortly after Winnie’s third birthday you were pregnant a second time. A boy, much to Bucky’s excitement. He would daydream about playing catch with him, teaching him how to fix up the motorcycle- all while he braided Winnie’s hair and chased her around the yard.

It wasn’t more than a year after Steven Samuel Barnes was born that you became pregnant for a third and final time. Your second son, Anthony ‘Tony’ James Barnes being the final and beautiful piece to complete the family you’d only ever dreamed of.

Winnie was the first to find out about who her dad used to be. She was 14 and had come home from school in tears over the cruel things a particular little shit of a classmate had told her. Before you sat her down to tell her everything, you had pulled Bucky into your bedroom, cupping his face with your hands. “Unbreakable.” You reminded him softly, until he nodded, eyes closed with a shaky breath.

It was easier to show Winnie who her dad really was. You took her to the Smithsonian, walking alongside her through the Captain America exhibit, until she stopped wide-eyed in front of the large picture of her father. The panel detailed his service in the 107th, his capture in Azzano and the heroic actions that took place during his time alongside Steve Rogers and the Howling Commandos before the tragic fall in 1945 from the train in the Alps. Once she’d had the chance to absorb her dad’s incredible feats, he took her for a long walk along the shore where he told her his story, in his own words- beginning with his time under HYDRA. He told her fond memories of his years in Wakanda, mentioning how incredibly badass the Dora Milaje are and that she would love Ayo, Okye and Shuri and perhaps one day she could meet them. He explained the blip, how he’d fought alongside so many heroes in order to save the Earth from the Mad Titan Thanos and fondly recalled Steve and Tony- her smile widening into a grin as she made the connection to her younger brothers’ names. He ended his story with you- how you met, how he fell in love with you and how you saved him. He told her how you made him a better man, helped him overcome his darkness and how she, his beautiful, resilient, first born child reminds him everyday that everything he had been through was worth it when he saw her smile.

Winnie got detention the next day for foul language. The principal called home to report that when she’d been arguing with a classmate she’d said- and I quote- “My dad saved the fucking planet, Jessica. Your dad’s screwing his secretary.”

Taglist (Taglist is open):

@badbunnybabygirl01 @suz7days @truthfulliarr @lilacka @writtingrose @samsgoddess @loveisallyouneed1125 @vicmc624 @millercontracting @wildernessflora @mydorkyboys @blackhawkfanatic @honestlywork @ladyvenera @cavity-exe @ihavetwoholesforareason @km-ffluv @shortnloud @mrs-katelyn-barnes @somnorvos @22rhianna2006 @fanfictionreaderfan @misshale21 @angelbaby99 @deans-spinster-witch @kezibear @acornacreacure @wintrsoldrluvr @terry2227

[sammyofold]

Here's the second part of the wincest fic rec list! The fics are grouped together under overarching tropes.

(Part 1 | Part 2)

Case Fics

The Truth In The Lie by flawedamythyst.

Summary: Sam and Dean pretend to be gay lovers while they hunt a monster on a bus tour of Nova Scotia.

Pine Sweat by Goshen.

Summary: Sam and Dean get sent back to 1996 and go on a hunt with their teenaged selves. The kids don't know who they are.

this narrow room where life began by peculiarstate.

Summary: Everything Dean is, even all these years later, is still for Sam, only ever Sam, it beats through his blood more real to him than his own heartbeat, Sam, Sam, Sam. The common fucking denominator of Dean’s entire life. or Four years later, Dean has Sam back. Some things have changed. The main thing hasn't.

venti cup of poison, half-caf, long shot by darlingargents.

Summary: A string of murders outside Seattle seem to be connected by coffee. Sam goes undercover as a barista to try and get to the bottom of it.

Mercy by LaughableLament.

Summary: Sam’s rattled, hunting a ghost light in the aftermath of Dean’s reunion with Cassie—a woman so important, Dean disobeyed Dad for her.

Walkin' the Tightrope by non_tiembo_mala.

Summary: It’s 2036, and twenty years since Sam and Dean called it quits on hunting to take up a secluded, quiet life. Maybe Jesse and Cesar gave them the idea, but after Amara, they realized they’d done enough. And they wanted a proper life together even more. Known as Sam Wesson and Dean Smith to the residents of the nearby town they call home, Sam and Dean keep mostly to themselves, their immaculately kept ‘67 Chevy Impala, and their cabin in the woods. That is, until someone from their past tracks them down, desperate for help. Sam and Dean can’t say no, not when it’s their dear friend Jody Mills in deep trouble – she’s missing – but the wedding bands they wear make going back to their old life just that little bit more complicated…

The Things We Carry With Us by lovesrain44.

Summary: Sam and Dean are on the road, saving people and hunting things, like they always do. Dean discovers that Sam is attempting to turn himself into a monk, and so he does his best to get Sam laid. Sam resists because, of course, who needs to have sex with a girl when Dean’s around? It's about going on a roadtrip with your brother. It's about the food you eat, and the maps you follow. It's about the things you carry with you. (Takes place some time after Heart.)

On the Cover of a Magazine by teashopmuses (LJ).

Summary: Sam and Dean are called in to investigate the mysterious death of a model at a photography studio in Michigan. The only way for them to get in? Pose as models themselves – which is much easier said than done.

When It Crackles by lyra_wing (LJ).

Summary: A cult is rumored to be guarding the Fountain of Youth. Oh, and while investigating it, Sam and Dean get roped into getting married. Yep.

Always You, without time or space by benitle (LJ).

Summary: Sam and Dean leave New Paltz, a haunted painting and Sarah behind them, each thinking in their own ways it'll be the last time they do anything like that. It isn't long before a string of unexplainable deaths takes them to The Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City. Between frustration and brotherly fights, surviving more art than can be seen in a lifetime, a revenge killer and the mean city, their relationship is taken to a whole new level that neither of them had expected. But of course it's never that simple, because between all the emotional chaos, there's also a case to solve!

Swesson

A Case of Do or Die by RiverSongTam.

Summary: Former hunter Dean Smith and Men of Letters legacy Sam Wesson are working through the rigorous MOL initiation process as partners, an arrangement Dean isn’t too happy about at first. Both he and Sam worry about being paired with someone they’re so attracted to—and who’s obviously straight. As the boys work together, they become friends, both secretly fighting their feelings for the other despite days at the movies, hours of research, and nights at the Roadhouse spent in each other’s company. When Sam has a vision of Abaddon wiping out the Men of Letters on initiation night, the pair wind up fighting something even more terrifying. The Men of Letters aren’t going to die out on Sam and Dean’s watch—even if a misunderstanding about their feelings for each other happens along the way.

Abandon All Hope, Ye Who Enter Here by Zanne.

Summary: Dean Smith and Sam Wesson want to hunt some more ghosts. They go to the experts for some hands-on training, but can they fight the strange attraction between them?

Who Are You? (I Really Wanna Know) by orphan_account.

Summary: Ever since Sam Wesson moved to Ohio, he’s found himself in an exceedingly terrifying series of battles against his own brain—and the attractive man he keeps bumping into with the strikingly green eyes is Sam’s only clue as to why. Meanwhile, Dean Smith’s next promotion is practically in the bag until he starts stumbling over a succession of worrisomely inappropriate outbursts. The cute, but creepy IT guy who keeps leering at him really isn’t helping things either.

When We Kiss Our Scars Align by matchsticks_p.

Summary: Meet Sam Wesson. Meet a ghost. Meet more ghosts. Meet each other's parents. This is not how Dean Smith had imagined his life would go.

More than the dirt it takes to bury them by gorgeousnerd.

Summary: Sam Wesson doesn't usually run off with strangers to fight what lurks in the dark. But then, Sam doesn't meet people he dreams about - people like Dean Smith - every day. It's not perfect, but he's making a difference and getting closer to Dean, so what's not to love? Except the dreams he still can't explain. And the way he's starting to sweat and shake and itch for something he can't name. Something like demon blood.

How Many Floors to Realize by lazy_daze.

Summary: AU from the end of It's A Terrible Life, in which Zachariah decides to keep stringing them along a little while longer, because damn if they aren't somewhat entertaining, right?

Green Man by inalasahl.

Summary: Godstiel puts Sam and Dean back into the Sandover verse. It takes them some time to recover their memories.

Demon Dean

Welcome to Your Future by klove0511.

Summary: When Dean is suddenly pulled through time, he's confronted with a broken little brother a decade older than he should be. With Sam determined to send Dean back to his own time, will Dean be able to figure out where his present day counterpart is and fix things for Sam?

Come Close by AlulaSpeaks.

Summary: Dean may be a demon, but that doesn't mean he's stupid. In fact, he's just bursting with good ideas.

is there a word for bad miracles by withthekeyisking.

Summary: Dean comes back from Hell...different. But hey, it's not like Sam's the same as he used to be, either.

High Achiever by Agent_Hellcat.

Summary: Dean rescues Sam from Cole, his abductor. But does he have a hidden agenda?

Undeniable Dilemma by rosych33ks.

Summary: Dean stepped forward again, a strange kind of patience in the action, and Sam flattened himself back against the car, hands up, knife in the left just a useless afterthought at this point. “No, Dean, wait! You can— There’s something else we can do.” Dean sneered at him, but he just shifted his weight to his other hip, didn’t go for Sam again immediately, and that was something at least. “Oh yeah?” He said it like he was humoring him, probably thought he was letting Sam stall for his own amusement. “And what’s that?” Sam straightened a little, made himself look Dean right in the eyes, and most of all, did not let himself think. “You can fuck me.”

Ruin You by Mumble_Bee.

Summary: Cole fucks Sam with Demon!Dean watching from a devil's trap, snarling that anyone would dare touch what was his.

(Note: Trigger warnings for graphic depictions of rape and torture. Here's another version the author wrote where Dean is human. Same warnings apply.)

Alternate Events & Fix-Its

Away to Darker Dreams by brokenlittleboy.

Summary: Finally hunting on his own, Dean makes a trip to Stanford to visit Sam, only to find his little brother's gone missing. And when he finally does stumble upon him in a dark twist of fate, Sam is not the boy he used to be.

B-Side by phoenixflight.

Summary: Sam Winchester is a senior at Stanford with his whole life in front of him when he dies in a tragic fire. He didn't know what to hope for from an afterlife, exactly, but whatever it was, it wasn't his brother Dean, arrived before him.

Truth or consequences by rivkat.

Summary: What if Agent Henriksen gave Dean truth serum? Disinhibition and dirty talk.

120 - forgiveness by ani_coolgirl.

Summary: Dean reassures Sam that he did the right thing by putting down Samuel. Due to past events, Sam has a hard time understanding Dean's attitude. Conversations are had and misunderstandings are finally cleared up.

Brother's Blood by diana_lucifera, stormageddon.

Summary: When Dean goes missing on a hunt in New Orleans, John picks Sam up from Stanford to help look for him. (Pilot AU)

Always My Guide by Delanach.

Summary: After Dean goes to hell, Sam turns to Ruby but using his powers for the first time after tasting her blood takes away his sight. Bobby takes him in but it's not until Dean is pulled out of hell that he faces up to having to learn to live with a new reality. As for Dean, helping Sam relearn everything from the ground up gives him something to focus on. When Sam insists on tagging along on a simple salt and burn and they encounter a demon, they realize that Sam still has his powers, they are stronger than before, and he can sense other supernatural beings in different ways. When they are faced with the possibility of Lucifer rising, they must work together with Bobby and an angel called Castiel to stop it happening.

This is Ourselves (Under Pressure) by clex_monkie89 (LJ).

Summary: After Nightshifter, Sam and Dean hit the road. What follows is three months of fear and frustration with the FBI hot on their heels, trying to avoid the long arm of the law while still continuing to work. It's not easy; being on the run doesn't leave much time for breathing, never mind sleep, sex or any much-needed downtime.

Extra Gen Fics

What You Choose To Do With It by StarsandJellyfish.

Summary: Sam and Dean have finally got to a good place in their relationship, after the fiasco that was the few years Dean had the Mark. Now, weird things are happening all the time, and Sam has no idea what is going on or why. Dean is acting strangely, like he knows something Sam doesn't. Sam is just looking for an explanation that makes sense. Or five times Sam used his powers without knowing it, and one time he knew it and worried what Dean would think.

Red in Tooth and Claw by LilacLetter.

Summary: It’s the summer before Sam’s senior year. The brothers are stuck in New Mexico where their dad left them to their own devices. Sam and Dean are bored stiff in the searing heat… until a case comes along. It can’t hurt to check out the mysterious desert creature alone, right? Case-fic, pre-series, h/c.

Time held me green and dying by anyplaceisbetter.

Summary: Sam wakes up aged 9 and with zero clue who the weird man in the bed next to his is. They deal.

The Bonds of Brotherhood by authoressjean.

Summary: In the wake of Lilith's death and the apparent destruction of their brotherhood, Dean and Sam find there's an even bigger revelation than Lucifer rising, because Lucifer isn't in his Cage. Lucifer and Michael both Fell a long time ago and became someone new. Became human.

With Heaven and Hell gunning for them, and new/old brothers fighting beside them, Dean and Sam have to navigate the world as the archangels they used to be and the brothers they're desperately trying to be again. Their bonds of brotherhood aren't easily torn apart, though, and something their enemies would be wise to realize.

Customs of the County by TheMarvelousTolkienJob.

Summary: All Sam wanted was to be normal. Go to school. Make friends. Spend quality time with his family. Only, the universe seemed to be conspiring against him and even these simple experience were turning out to be anything but that. Instead, he gets a rigged school system, an absent father, and an upset brother.

A New Beginning by MonPetitTresor.

Summary: After Chuck and Amara make up, they reveal their new plans - and they're nothing like what anyone had expected.

For Your Own Good 'verse by mentholpixie.

Summary: “Don't worry, Dean. I'll be a good little soldier and do everything Dad says. Promise.” Sam doesn't know how right he is.

On Our Own by authoressnebula.

Summary: When Sam is fifteen, his dad makes a decision based on a dark future he was apparently shown by an 'angel': split his sons up and abandon his youngest to keep that future at bay. Dean refuses to let it happen, but if they want to stay together, there's only one option: run.

[lokiswifeduh]

Don't leave me

Pairings- Mob!Bucky x Fem!Reader

Summary- The aftermath of the shootout was here. And Bucky has to come to terms with the results of the life he introduced you to, and what revenge he would ensue.

notes- this is a part two to Doll, please. I hope you guys enjoy the ending!! Please let me know your thoughts!! Thank you for reading loves!!

Warnings- angst, talk of guns, drugs, kidnapping, abuse, torture. major gore. sad Bucky, hurt reader, hurt/comfort, gunshot wounds, medical talk, revenge.

WC- 3k

catch up here (part one)

masterlist

"Doll, please."

I saw her look up at me with those doe eyes. Those big beautiful eyes painfully gazing into mine. I wanted to touch her. I wanted to turn her away from the bullets that were sure to fly our way, but I couldn't move my hands. In this moment I couldn't protect her.

I felt the sob rip from her throat. There were only ten seconds left.

"I vowed to stand by your side, Buck." She looked back to the ten guns pointed in mine and her direction. I could see a stray tear slip down her cheek as her hands shook, her nails digging into her palm as she tried her hardest to release my wrists from the painful wire digging into them.

Suddenly she dropped the knife, jumping into my lap. Her hands wrapped around my neck as her legs surrounded the back of the chair, encasing my upper body. "NO! Doll, please!!" I felt her hit the knife in my thigh with hers, but I ignored the pain focusing on what in the world she thought she was doing.

The men cocked their guns. But in that moment all I could think about was how to get her off of me. I needed her to run, to fight back to do something. Not to protect my body with hers. I couldn't let her.

"Doll!! Stop!! Get up!!" But my protests fell on deaf ears as she tucked my head into her chest, wrapping her arms tighter around my neck, not letting me move a muscle below her. She shook her head, my tears soaking her shirt, mixing with mine and her blood. "I won't let you die." She attempted to shout but at that moment her voice was the quietest I'd ever heard it.

I tried to whisper back when suddenly shots rang out through the warehouse. My head popped up, prepared to die with the love of my life. I wouldn't let her do it herself. I would not live without her. Not if I had a choice.

But in that split second, I realized the first bullets that went flying weren't from Rumlow's men, it was from Steve, Sam, and my men, shooting at the ones who threatened us.

"Doll, we're gonna be oka-" But my words were cut short as two bullets flew into her. She screamed. Her vocal cords grinding together in the most painful way I'd ever heard. I felt my heart rip in two as her body shook against mine, arching her back as if that would stop the pain.

But she kept her head down, arms shaking yet still holding onto me. I would have cut my hands off if I had the strength to rip through the restraints. A sob tore from my throat, "Don't do this to me."

She finally lifted her head, my beautiful wife looking at me with such care and tenderness. As if she hadn't just been shot twice, and wasn't using all of her strength to hold onto me for dear life.

A small drop of blood trickled down the side of her mouth as her teeth were painted red. "I love you, James Barnes." She cupped my face in her hands, tucking me back into her chest as her grip seemed to loosen, "Till forever and always."

The words we both said to each other on our wedding day. "Doll, please." Her hold on me finally failed as she fell, but thankfully into the arms of Steve, before her head would've slammed into the concrete.

My second in command looked at both of us. Tortured and bloody. I held in my tears as I looked at Sam, leading a pair of medics through the door.

"Rumlow will pay." The wire from my wrists was snapped in half thanks to Peter, a new, very terrified recruit. I shot down immediately onto my knees, holding her head in my hands as the paramedics loaded my wife onto the stretcher. "Don't leave me."

I made eye contact with Steve, "I will have him and that traitor's head."

_________________

You lay in the hospital bed, your whole body practically wrapped in soft white bandages.

You could feel the pressure of something on your thigh as you tried to open your eyes. It wasn't working. Why couldn't you just open them?!

Try something else, you thought.

You moved your hands, the feeling of someone else's palm in yours made your heart start to race. You could remember little parts over the last three days.

Bucky was kidnapped.

Steve was put in charge.

You were kidnapped.

Natasha was working with Rumlow.

The torture.

The pain.

Your husband's face as you used yourself as a human shield.

Being shot.

Suddenly you heard screaming and saw bright lights. A heart monitor was beeping louder and faster at each passing second.

Realizing the screaming was in fact your own, you started to breathe harder. You finally could open your eyes!

Your surroundings were blurry at first. There was a familiar figure in front of you. Sounds were muffled but began to come back into focus.

"Doll?! Sweetheart, you're okay."

You shook your head, looking around in panic before realizing you were in fact back at home, in your bed. Bucky beside you. Your husband, holding your face in his hands.

"B-Bucky?" Your voice was raspy and your throat felt like sandpaper, rubbing together from underuse.

Involuntarily you started to cough, holding a hand up to your throat which only caused more pain in your back to bloom. "Ah," You groaned, swallowing before resting your head back on the pillow.

You felt Bucky's hands leave your body, but only for a second as he held a straw to your lips. "It's just water doll. I need you to drink this for me." You nodded, feeling a pounding in your head as you sucked down the refreshing liquid. The coolness soothing your throat like rain in the desert.

"Good girl." Bucky gave you a soft smile, taking the straw away from your mouth as you finished the water.

Closing your eyes for a moment, you regained your vision, looking around.

Monitors, medical equipment, and an abundance of flowers and cards filled your and Bucky's bedroom. Light shone through the window as you squinted, shooting over to look at Bucky who just gazed down at you worryingly.

You looked him over, seeing the cuts and bruises that adorned his face. His lip was split in multiple places. His thigh was wrapped in gauze and his wrists were bandaged. Looking down, so were yours. Actually, it seemed your entire body was.

"Are yo-," You swallowed, "Are you okay?"

Bucky took a moment before letting out a laugh. "You're asking me if I'm okay, doll?" You nodded, confused.

"Sweetheart you're the one who's been unconscious for three weeks and has two bullet wounds."

You twisted your hips a little, feeling the agonizing, shooting pain of the very real bullet wounds. Groaning, you whispered, "So that definitely happened, good to know."

Bucky ran his hand down the side of your face, sitting in the chair that was placed beside your shared bed. "I'm the one who's supposed to protect you, doll." You gulped, "I- I couldn't let you die, James."

Bucky closed his eyes, laying his head down on your thigh as he gripped your hand in his. "I would've rather die than see you in this state, sweetheart."

You lifted your other hand, running it through his untamed hair. "Don't say that, Buck." But his head lifted, making you notice his bloodshot eyes and the way tears streamed down his face in harsh lines. "I won't live without you, doll." He shook his head, a tear dripping onto the hospital blanket "I would rather die a thousand times over and over in the same painful way than see you in such agony, my love."

You held back tears, closing your eyes as you tried to steady your breath. "I couldn't- no. I wouldn't let you die like that, Buck." You looked at him once again, "Not at the hands of Rumlow. Not because of me." "This wasn't because of you, doll-" "But it was!" You shouted, making you cough slightly, not used to using your voice for this long yet. "Rumlow took you because he wanted to hurt us- because he wanted me." You cupped Bucky's jaw in your hand, "Because I chose you." Bucky gulped, "I've never been so scared." You softly laughed, thinking of all the shootouts, drug deals, and interrogations Bucky went through on a day-to-day basis.

But he shook his head, hearing your chuckle. "Seeing him hurt you and torture you the way he did." Bucky's eyes went dark, "I've never wanted to hurt someone so bad just to ensure you made it out of there safely." You tried to speak up but Bucky kept going. "And look at you now. You're laying here, with two gunshot wounds, fingernails ripped apart, and a busted-up face."

Tilting your head, you looked at the mirror that stood in front of your and Bucky's bed; genuinely taking in your appearance. You in fact did have a busted-in face. Your lip was split. Your eyebrow was stitched as well as your nose. You had bruises covering every inch of your skin and your hair was in the worst shape you had ever seen.

Gulping, you looked away from the mirror, making Bucky take your chin in his hands, guiding you to look him in the eyes. "But you're still the prettiest doll I've ever seen." He moved, bringing his lips to yours in a soft yet long-awaited kiss. "My best girl."

It hurt to smile but you did, bringing your hand to his face, gently rubbing over the matching bruises that mirrored yours. "I love you, James."

"I love you, doll."

________________________

The next few days were agonizing.

You could finally stand up on the third day. But not without terrible pain shooting in every nerve ending of your body.

Bucky helped you with everything. From showering to cleaning your wounds. He was quite the nurse when it came to you.

But unfortunately about a week after you woke up, the violence hadn't ended. There were still some loose ends to tie up.

Slowly walking down the stairs and into one of the main rooms, everyone's attention went to your hobbling frame. "Doll?" Bucky sped over, Steve immediately pulling up a chair so you could take a seat.

As you sat down you noticed a large bruise on Steve's jaw. You knew Bucky would eventually be mad at him for not properly making sure you stayed out of the mess and violence of it all. But you were hoping it would've been a stern lecture, not a punch.

"What are you doing out of bed?" Bucky whispered. The room stayed completely silent as Steve, Sam, and the rest of Bucky's men kept their backs turned, giving you two some privacy.

"I know you're planning to retaliate against, Rumlow."

Bucky nodded, taking your face in his hands as you fidgeted with the string of your sweatpants. Well, Bucky's sweatpants.

"I don't want you involved again, doll." He glanced back at Steve for a moment, "Not after what happened."

You shook your head, "I need him to pay for this, Buck." Your body shook with anger, "I want his fucking blood." Bucky was slightly startled, never seeing this much hatred in your eyes. You were always his sweet wife. You made the men cookies, and you organized charity events for the homeless shelter down the street.

Sure, you knew how to use a gun and fight if you had to. But seeing this much agonizing resentment on your face, scared him. But he knew you wouldn't let it go. He sure as hell wasn't.

So he let you know the plan, and what was going down.

______________

"Steve? We good?" Bucky touched the earpiece, hearing an affirmative. The mob had infiltrated Rumlow's mansion only one week later, killing every single man who stood in their way. Shoot on site. Was your husband's order as you and he waited to enter the mansion, making sure only Rumlow and Natasha were left.

Two of Bucky's men opened the doors to the mansion. The sight of the place made you cringe slightly. Soldiers were dead on the ground everywhere. Blood painted the floors and staircases like a stain.

"Top floor, back left bedroom."

You heard Steve's voice echo through the earpiece as you and Bucky made your way up.

His hand never left the small of your back, making sure you were covered at all angles with men following behind and in front of you, rifles pinned for every aspect of an attack.

"You alright, doll?" Bucky whispered, his hand on the door that would lead you to Rumlow. You nodded, ignoring the dull pain in your back. "I need this to be over with." Your husband kissed the crown of your head, nodding to his men as they busted down the door, guns held high.

But the sight in front of you made you smile.

Rumlow was beaten down, cowering in the corner of the room as Natasha stood in the corner, you could see the fear in her eyes. The same fear she caused you as she ripped your fingernails to pieces.

"Brock Rumlow," Bucky spoke in a deep voice, pulling on a pair of black gloves, before handing you a matching pair.

You slipped them on, hand placed on the knife that was strapped onto your thigh, just above the black jeans you had on.

Steve and Sam patted Bucky on the back, looking toward you with respect. "Have fun, you two." The blonde spoke, before exiting and closing the doors behind them.

"P-please, Barnes." Rumlow pleaded, "Have mercy."

Bucky was about to laugh before Natasha beat him to it. "Oh, please. You two really think he was the mastermind behind all this?" You looked over at the redhead in the corner, your former friend.

"If he's not, does that mean you are?" Your voice carried through the room, a newfound confidence making you raise your head high.

Natasha grinned, "And here I thought you never would've survived." You tilted your head, "Two bullet shots and I'm walking four weeks later." You pulled the gun from your other holster, "I can't say the same for you after this." You pointed it right at her forehead.

"Come here," Bucky moved forward, knowing you had Natasha pinned with the intent to shoot; dragging Rumlow up as two of his men held him on his knees.

"Nat, please. Do something." Rumlow begged, making you let out a laugh under your breath. "Do you think she's really in the position to?" You saw her move forward slightly, making you cock your gun, "One more step and I blow your fucking brains all over these white sheets."

Bucky grinned, loving this color on you.

"You really thought you could take my girl from me?" Your husband kneels in front of Brock, pulling out a knife from his belt. "What did you call her after breaking her nose? Oh, that's right, a 'lovely specimen."

Bucky's smirk dropped, nodding at the two men holding Brock down as they forced his mouth open. Brock shouted and yelled as Bucky gripped the end of his tongue, pulling it from his mouth and slicing it clean off from the base with his knife.

Brock wailed and cried as another soldier brought over a jar filled with a yellow liquid, opening the top so Bucky could drop the tongue in. He closed the lid, holding it up high as he watched Brock's mouth fill with blood. "What a lovely specimen."

"You two are fucking sick." Natasha, sneered, making you grip the knife from your own holster, throwing it and landing it right in her hand that was held in the air. She screamed, falling to the ground and back up until her back hit the wall.

You kneeled down, gun still pointed in her face, "Talk again and next time your tongue will join his in the jar." Your former friend gulped, nodding as you smirked.

Bucky gripped the front of Brock's shirt, making his back touch Bucky's chest as he held a knife to his throat. "Anything you wanna say before I kill you in front of your girlfriend, Rumlow?"

You laughed, slightly, making Bucky huff in humor. "Oh, that's right. You can't" He whispered the last part before slicing a clean and deep cut across his neck, blood pouring out as he collapsed to the ground, whimpering and sputtering in pain as he bled out, his eyes on you in fear as he eventually stopped moving.

Natasha looked back at you, still clutching her bleeding hand into her chest. You kneeled down, "Why, Natasha?" She shook with terror, hardly being able to force the words out. "Why did he have to pick you?!"

Your brows furrowed in confusion, "What?" Natasha scoffed, looking over at your husband, then back to you.

"Before you came along I thought he could love me. But then you showed up, taking all Bucky's attention. I never stood a fucking chance." You laughed, sighing before standing and walking over to Bucky, placing a hand on the back of his head before smashing your lips against his in a heated kiss. He groaned, biting your lip and making you moan into his mouth.

You chuckled, still holding the back of his head in your hand. You lifted your arm, perfect aim.

"No, Natasha. You never stood a fucking chance." One, two, then three shots rang out through the room as you planted two bullets in Natasha's head, and one in the chest.

Dropping the gun, you saw her body slump to the ground. Dead.

Bucky turned you away from the scene, bringing your face into his hands as both of you had unshed tears in your eyes. "It's over, doll."

You nodded, holding onto his hands as they held your face. "Can we go home, Buck?" He nodded, bringing your face into his chest as he walked you back through the house and into the car. "We're going home, doll. I'm never leaving you."

End

__________________

part one (read first)

masterlist

Taglist:

@yeahyeahyeah23-blog @rinniereads123 @shortnloud @julvrs @unaxv @sapphirebarnes

[imtryingbuck]

Happy Ending

~ gif not mine credit goes to owner ~

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader, past Steve x fem!Reader

Summary: Happy Ending that’s all.

Word count: 1,109

Warnings: swearing, my awful attempt at fluff and I think that’s it

Masterlist

 Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3

You were wrong. About Steve I mean. Steve wasn’t the love of your life. The man sitting on the floor trying and failing to assemble a crib without instructions because and I quote ‘I don’t need instructions Y/N it’s not that difficult’. Him. He’s the love of your life.

You’re standing at the door to the nursery watching this beautiful man struggle and instead on offering help as you know for a fine fact he’d tell you no, you stand and watch. You look around the room and smile. Sam came over two days ago to help paint the room with Bucky whilst you were sat in the living room with Natasha and Wanda going through baby names both women argued with each other for ages about if the baby’s a girl to be named after one of them.

For 6 months you and Bucky dated without anyone knowing until Bucky asked if he could tell Steve as he wanted to introduce you to his newfound family as his girlfriend, you nervously agreed. Bucky came back to your apartment with a black eye and busted lip. Steve was furious claiming that you both betrayed him and when Bucky mentioned that Steve had dated your sister that was a betrayal, their argument had spilled out to the common room, and everyone was in shock not only to see the two super soldiers’ best friends arguing but to learn that you was Steve’s ex-girlfriend. Bucky threw the first punch after Steve made a comment about you which still to this day, he has never told you what that comment was. After meeting the team again things were going great, that was until you was going to the bathroom and walked straight into Steve an argument happens with him calling you all the names under the sun then apologising and proceeding to tell you how much he loves you. You tell him you don’t love him anymore; you tell him you wish him all the best and with that you go and sit next to Bucky.

Another six months go by, and you walk into your apartment and at first your confused you’ve walked into the wrong place when you take in the sight of your floor covered in rose petals and there’s candles lit up, as you walk further into your home you see Bucky standing there with a nervous smile. 

“Hi baby” he says.

“Hi Buck, what’s all this?” Your minds racing thinking you’ve forgotten your anniversary but that’s not for another two weeks.

“I had a whole speech I wrote but standing here looking at you I can’t remember what I wrote” he chuckles lightly. “So I’m just going to say this. Y/N I love you more than anything in this world. You are my happiness, my forever. I- woul- Will you marry me my love?” 

You didn’t even notice he had dropped to his knee; you didn’t even notice the ring, you didn’t even notice the tears rolling down your face as you nod spluttering ‘yes’.

Your baby was conceived that night.

When you told Bucky you was pregnant you was a nervous wreck, your apologising whilst he drops to his knees kissing your stomach over and over and then he’s thanking you for the best news ever. 

Three months later you and Bucky get married in the field that you had your first date, Tony is adamant he’s paying for the whole thing. Natasha and Wanda are both your maid of honour’s as you simply couldn’t decide. Sam is Bucky’s best man. Bruce and Pepper are running around making sure everything is running smoothly. Your parents and sister aren’t there as you haven’t spoken to them since Steve broke up with your sister. Your brother is there with tears in his eyes and he’s the one that walks you down the makeshift isle. Steve makes an appearance which makes your heart race with worry, thinking he’ll do something but luckily he doesn’t. As you’re exchanging your vows there’s not a dry eye around. You see Steve give Bucky a smile with a nod as you both walk past. When the night draws to an end you tell everyone that you’re expecting Baby Barnes everybody cheers. Steve asks if you two could talk and you agree, you walk into an empty room and he asks you if your happy you tell him yes so with a nod he tells you that he’s sorry for not doing right by you. He congratulates you for your marriage and pregnancy, he pulls you into a hug whispering that you will always be the love of his life.

Steve has to watch the love of his life walk up to hers and there’s nothing he can do about it. He lost you and it was all his fault.

The day Baby Barnes decided to make an appearance your husband is a nervous wreck which actually helps you with the pain as your too focused on him to register that soon enough you’ll be pushing a human into the world. After four and half hours of labour you give birth to the most beautiful baby boy. The doctor tells you to keep pushing as another baby is on its way, you and Bucky share a look of horror and confusion. You give birth to a beautiful baby girl.

As your sat there with your family the room starts to fill up with your other family. Like yourselves everyone gets a shock when Bucky shows them your daughter, wide eyes and laughter fill the room. 

The love of your life sits on the bed besides you with your daughter in his arms your son in yours and neither one of you can stop smiling. He tells you he’s so proud of you and repeatedly tell you how much he loves you.

You see the love of your life kissing another girl instead of your heart breaking it flutters. Bucky kisses Winnie’s face all over to make her release that delightful squeal whilst James Junior (JJ as Bucky calls him) is playing with his Captain America shield. Catching the love of your life attention you tell him your pregnant again he cries and tells you he’s so happy and so madly in love with you, the three year olds are confused but as soon as they see their parents laughing they follow along.

Sitting there later that night with the babies in bed yourself and Bucky take a minute to thank Steve for messing up and as Buck puts it ‘letting the most beautiful and incredible person walk away’.

You finally got your happy ending.

Tags: @bruher @cjand10 @themotherof10 @spngingerbread21 @behindmygreyeyes @hnnhbananananana @reguluscrystals @learisa @unaxv

~ banners credit goes to @sweetpeapod ~

[heartbreakgrill]

happen: sleep token (vessel).

a/n: we pretend we don’t see my unfinished fics, okay? also we pretend we don’t see my spelling and grammar and plot mistakes in this, okay? okay. enjoy :)

"your paint is smeared."

vessel looked up from his piano, first meeting my eyes, then following where my finger pointed to.

"shit," his accent stuck out like a sore thumb, elongating the i in the cuss word.

vessel wiped a finger across the paint in an attempt to blend it in. it didn't do much.

"i think you might be making it worse," i commented with a smug smile.

vessel met my sneering gaze. he was unphased by the sarcasm on my tongue. he reached a blackened hand forward as he tried to rip the clipboard from my hands. i ducked out of his reach. the piano blocked him from me, but his arms were long enough that he managed to swipe a hand across my stack of papers.

i scoffed, stepping back a few feet, examining the black paint overtop my paperwork. "vess!"

"y/n!" he mocked my tone. he rounded the piano, coming to look down at the paper in my hands. "your paint is smeared, lovey."

i looked at up with an annoyed stare, "fuck off."

vess patted my bare shoulder, sending electrically shocked goosebumps down my clammy skin. i shifted my arms, hoping he wouldn't notice how i shivered under his touch.

"i'll go get some more paint, kay?" i offered with a deep breath.

vessel settled in front of his piano again. he nodded, pressing a few keys, "there's a tube in my dressing room."

"be right back."

i turned on my heel and headed for the stairs. i passed ii, who patted my head, and iv, who made some chirp about me owing him a shot- which just wasn't true.

i reached the dressing room soon enough. i'd been in here- in the other ones- numerous times. we often all hung out as a group between shows, in here or out on the town with various disguises on the boys. i still didn’t know who the guys were outside of those masks and strange nicknames. sam did, of course, because he’d been teching for the boys for years now. plus, they all had a brotherly relationship. they trust him.

for some reason, going in here by myself felt provocative. i kept my vision tunnelled, just in case they left something important out. they were men, after all-messy, sometimes careless, forgetful.

outside clothes, hoodies and sweatpants i recognized, sat strewn across the chairs and couches. their personal cellphones were sat with their things, different from the work phones they had been assigned. i had their work numbers, for professional conversations, for getting bullied by ii and iv in the groupchat. vessel and i talked, sometimes, about new coffee shops in new towns we'd be stopping by, movies we'd need to go see when we had a day off.

personal phone numbers were for the trusted.

i b-lined for vessel's paint and brushes, on the counter beside his phone. as i did, my eyes glossed over a wallet. it wasn’t one that i recognized. but, i knew that it was vessel's. or, whoever he really was. my fingers itched with a curiosity that i could not feed. it was none of my business who they were. if they wanted me to know, they'd tell me. they'd unmask themselves when we're chilling out on the tour bus.

if vessel trusted me, if he felt our silly conversations held any depth like i thought they did, he'd tell me who he was.

no matter that i'd known him for six months and hehad yet to do so. no matter that i thought we might have reached that point. no matter that sometimes, when he looked at me, there was a longing sat right behind his eyes, a wanting that made me feel entrusted, that made me feel like he understood what was bleeding off my skin.

no matter.

i grabbed the paint and headed back for the stage. vessel was sitting on the side of it now, talking to ii about something or the other. i handed the paint off to him. i went to go backstage, heel prepared to turn, when he spoke, "thanks, lovey."

ii followed vessel's gaze up to me. i stood overtop of them. ii's eyes raked up my bare legs, over the little black dress i wore. he met my eyes and nodded. "hey, gorgeous."

ii always enjoyed flirting with me. playfully, of course. vessel rolled his eyes at the usual quip. "here we go..."

"i am going to do my job. see ya later!"

ii reached up and grabbed my hand before i could leave. i jerked back to my spot, brows raised. ii shook my arm around, "go on, darling, give us a strut."

"you're ridiculous," i ripped my hand from his, though i chuckled slightly.

"tell her, vess," ii nudged his bandmate's shoulder with his elbow, "tell her how beautiful she is. she just doesn't believe me!"

i met vessel's eyes. he never joined the boys in their teasing, never flirted like ii did. he was always genuine, kind. our conversations were always full of depth, too. in fact, he never showed much interest in me besides those longing, full glances that i took to heart, that i let create a delusional fantasy land in my head. everytime i thought he might be, when we'd have these great conversations, he'd pull back. like was afraid, or he didn't fully trust me.

so, i shuddered when vessel's eyes drug down my body, over my exposed chest, the barely visible tops of my boobs, the curve of my waist, hugged tight by the dress, and the skin of my thighs and calves, right to the tips of my platform boots.

it was then that i realized today was going to be a very different day.

"you look..." vessel rolled his eyes back up my body, to my own flustered gaze, "good."

i couldn't get away fast enough. i thanked them both, stuttering slightly, before turning on my heel and racing towards backstage. i bumped into iv's shoulder and muttered a half-hearted apology.

i knew that they all were staring at me, analyzing my girlish behavior. i knew they'd talk about it.

and that was embarrassing as fuck.

when the show ended, i was determined to not be anywhere near any of the boys. i escaped to the bus sam, myself, and the other techies slept on. i changed into comfortable clothing and lay in my bunk, willing the blush on my cheeks to finally leave me alone.

this wasn’t supposed to happen. did i long for him to say something like that? duh!

did i actually want it to happen? no, bitch.

because that changed everything for me.

i just needed to hide out here for the night, will my anxiety and the fawn look in my eyes away. tomorrow, i could shift everything back to how it was. tomorrow, he’d probably act the same- passive, uninterested.

even if there was any weight to that entire interaction, it’s not like anything could even happen between us.

management made the band swear off girls for risk of privacy and in order to focus on their work. besides, i worked for the band. i helped run every single show they did. they were my boss’.

and there was that whole issue of him not trusting me. because it was so obvious that he didn’t.

i was letting my brain run around too much.

what snapped me back to reality was the commotion of everyone returning to the bus, excited chatter from the other men on the crew filling the once silent vehicle. sam's voice got closer as he and another techie approached their bunks, across and above from my own. i figured they’d just be grabbing something before everyone headed out to the bar.

but, of course- that wasn’t my luck.

"yoohoo," sam knocked a fist on wall, near my head, "is there a y/n in here?"

i huffed, "what do you want?" i knew they were here to berate me to come out with them. but that would mean seeing the boys- having to confront the issue that was vessel.

"get up, grandma," sam teased me for being in bed so soon, "we're going to the bar."

"i'm tired," i replied, a slight groan in my voice. please just go away.

"that's a load of bull," sam scoffed, "you literally said this morning that you wanted to go out tonight."

i went to reply, but more voices filled the bus, all too familiar ones that made my chest tight.

"what's going on? is y/n okay?" that thick british accent burst through whatever i was gonna say next. iv.

then, another spoke- ii, i was pretty certain. "what? what's happening? aren't you coming out, y/n?”

i shoved my head into my pillow, wanting to scream. the only downside of tour was this obvious lack of privacy. i appreciated that my presence was always wanted by just about anyone i worked with. but, god, can’t a girl daydream and regret her actions in peace?

i pulled open the curtains sheltering my bed, just a fraction, not even trying to mask my annoyed expression. ii, iv, and sam were squatted just outside my bunk. sam wore a cheeky grin, but the others had their outside masks on. i could read their energy well, though.

"i'm fine, guys," i waved them all off, cuddled up under my blankets, "i just wanna chill tonight."

"no! you can't! please! you have to go out with us! you promised last time you would! plus you owe me a shot!" iv whined, head tilted to the left. he really needed to find a new gimmick.

i rolled my eyes, "you're a baby."

"wow, y/n," ii set a comforting hand on iv's shoulder, gasping at my insult, "that's harsh. here i thought we were friends."

sam laughed in response, "yeah, y/n. that was really mean. you hurt iv's feelings." he, also, touched iv’s arm.

i met iv's eyes with pursed lips. his eyes read no signs of offense. we were all always so mean to each other and i knew they’d call me out if i ever took it too far. no, this- this was them bullying me back. trying to get me to come out. they’d probably, eventually, get on me about my flustered escape from earlier. ii nudged iv, and he began to fake cry, head dropped down into his hands.

i rolled my eyes again with an exasperated huff, "oh, my god. here we go."

the bus door swung open, then shut again, as the rest of the band made their way in. i didn't notice, too caught up in the boys' theatrics to get nervous that vessel was in my vicinity. he stood just out of sight, watching all of us.

iv sobbed, shoulders rocking. "i can't believe you'd say that, y/n!"

"whatever. im not coming out, freaks,” i went to shut the curtain, but sam pushed it open all the way.

i dropped my head to my pillow in annoyance. ii spoke now, egging on the situation further. i grew nervous he’d bring up earlier, "there's just one thing you can do to make this up to him."

"let me guess, it tastes like vodka and rhymes with hot?" i murmured as i pressed a stressed hand over my eyes.

ii pried my hands from my head. “actually- tastes like hennessy and rhymes with get the fuck out of bed!" he, then, reached into my bunk and tickled my sides.

i laughed this ugly, wheezing laugh, squirming away from ii's reach. iv's showcase of crying twisted into him falling back onto his ass, laughing with his head thrown back. sam held onto the bunk as he joined. i then heard vessel and iii's laughs, echoing from a bit down the hall. i tried to snap myself out of the situation, insecure by vessel's presence. but, ii just wouldn't stop tickling me.

luckily, he did, leaving my face red, tears spilling out of my eyes, and a newfound energy to get up from my bunk. i didn’t forget that vessel was standing there, watching. and, i knew, i’d have to face the reality of my embarrassment eventually. but, the boys drunk were usually pretty sweet.

"alright," i huffed and shoved the covers off of my body, "let's go, you freaks."

"you'll come?" ii offered me his hand, helping me off of the floor.

"yeah, i'll come," i released his hand, steadied on my feet. i shoved his shoulder as i walked towards the closet at the end of the hall. i pushed past sam and iv to get there. as i searched through my bag, trying to find my dress from earlier, i felt eyes still on me. all the boys had begun moving from the bus, going outside to smoke and wait on me. but, vessel was still there. lingering.

he waved at me as i looked down the hall towards him. my face flushed again and i gave an awkward smile. god, i was not helping the situation. if anything, i was making it worse, making him uncomfortable, ruining everything. he’d never trust me now.

i put back on my little black dress, tights to bear the cold, platform boots. my makeup was still in tact, though i had to clean up a few smudges made by my sweat from the show. i finally met everyone outside the bus, drawing eyes to my body as i bounded down the steps.

"still looking sexy, darling," ii flirted, cheekily, taking my hand and forcing me to do a little spin in front of everyone.

as i faced back to everyone, i pulled my hand from his and shoved him away from me again. "creep- let's go. you owe me a shot."

"um, i think it's the other way around," ii scoffed.

i began walking from the group, towards the bar down the street. i tossed a confused look over my shoulder, "that never happened. you're crazy."

i left behind a trail of laughing men, a stunned ii. they teased me- but i did back just as much.

it was just a five minute walk, and i kept my pace ahead of everyone because i was cold and wanted to get there quicker. i knew someone was watching me- again. i knew the feel of that stare. i knew it was vesel. so, i tried to stay just far enough ahead that he couldn't catch up. i don’t think i could keep up any meaningful conversation when my heart was still beating this quickly.

alas, the over 6' man fell in stride beside me, easily, hands shoved in the pockets of an alpha wolf sweatshirt. he adjusted his sunglasses, inhaling a chilly breath before saying, “why’d you run off earlier? before the show? did i- say something wrong?”

"no reason," i snapped a too-quick response, arms crossed over my chest. my cheeks were reddening again.

he tsked his tongue, “good. shame, though, i didn't get to enjoy this dress for as long as i would have liked to.” i couldn’t see his eyes- but i knew they flicked down over my body. i straightened up under the gaze.

what game was he playing?

maybe he just wanted to hook up. i knew it wasn’t anything serious for him, because it couldn’t be.

i could imagine he and the boys were horny. all the time they’d spent declaring celibacy on this tour must be getting to them. so, i convinced myself that’s what this was. but, i of course didn’t want that.

so, i couldn’t help but feel let down that i had gotten my hopes up. i had thought that maybe, just maybe, he wanted me like i wanted him. that, again, maybe, he trusted me like i wanted him to. like i trusted him.

i looked up at him, head tilted back from his height. i tried to read the air between us, hoping something else was there. but i knew he wore a cheeky grin beneath his mask. i frowned, slightly, a desperate disappointment laying just behind my eyes. my head shook just slightly, "don't."

vessel's shoulders fell. he nodded, just once, before silencing himself.

we walked to the bar in drowning silence. i wanted to stop, to turn to him and ask him a million questions. why didn’t he trust me? why didn’t he want me? why couldn’t we try?

why couldn’t we have met in another lifetime, where he didn’t feel the need to hide behind a mask? where he didn’t have to put his life on the line just to reveal himself to me?

not that would fix anything if he didn’t feel what i felt.

i needed a drink.

when we got to the bar, we got swept up in the excitement from our group, separated from each other. i was grateful for the space. it allowed me to breathe, allowed me to start getting wasted.

ii and iv shoved drink after drink into my hands. we pounded shots off of the wooden counter of the bar. we paid far too much for the shitty jukebox in the corner to play our favorite songs. ii even eventually drug me out to the make-shift dance floor, holding my free hand in his, guiding my hips with his other palm.

i clutched onto my vodka cran, following the rhythm ii was swinging in his hips. we danced to some usher song, sultry and silly. normally, i’d shove him away and cuss him out, make fun of him. but, the alcohol was starting to burn my throat, sending a soothingly loose feeling through my blood. i was relaxed.

the song slowed and we did with it. i rested my heavy body against his, chin on his shoulder. we danced in a circle. i could see vessel, sitting at the bar, burning a hole through ii's head with his eyes. he saw me looking at him and quickly looked away.

i just wanted to walk right up to him and kiss him, mask or no mask. i just wanted him. i didn’t care what he looked like. who he was. because i knew him- i knew him well. i knew when his favorite cat died, i knew that he dropped his sandwich in the first grade and cried on drive home. i knew he preferred tea over coffee, with two sugar cubes, and an exact glug of milk in it.

my mind was racing like crazy. i needed to ground myself or i’d do something i’d regret.

that’s when ii mumbled into my ear, “he wants you so badly.”

i jolted out of my own head space, pulling my chin back from ii’s shoulder to look up at him. “what?”

i was having trouble processing words.

“vess. he’s been pining after you for so long,” ii had a sense of urgency in his eyes. "and he think he's trying to see if he can shoot my head off with his eyes right now."

i peered over his shoulder. vessel was watching us again. he didn’t look away, though i knew he could see.

“fat chance,” i blurted out. “he keeps pushing me away…pining my ass. everytime we have, like, a really good conversations about, like, the stars or some shit, the next day he acts like he barely knows my name.”

ii was patient, just listening as i rambled, surely drunk now. i continued on, “i don’t know, dude. like, if he wanted me he would do something about it, yeah? he’d show me. he’d say something. he’d- he’d just do something. instead he just makes me feel crazy.”

i finished myself off with huff. i downed the rest of my drink and set it on a table close to us. both my fists leaned against ii’s shoulders. i was getting dizzy.

ii squeezed my hip in comfort. he waited a moment, for me to catch my breath, to respond. "it's difficult. being in our position. it's hard to tell who's getting close just to catch a peak. forcing everyone we care about to sign mountains of paperwork just to really know us. to trust that we can stay hidden, though the entire world is just itching to unmask us. i know you know that. i know you understand it. that’s part of the reason why we all get along with you so well. the pressures gone. we can be ourselves- no matter what our names are, what we look like. cause you just don’t care.

“i don’t!” i agreed, punching my fist lazily against ii’s shoulder. “i don’t care who you guys are! because you’re still the same to me. and i trust you. and i love you guys. and i just- but just, why can’t he want me?”

he chuckled, “oh, darling. he does. you know he does. and you know the risk, you know the worry. you push it away because it’s not going to be easy. put your pretty little head to rest. just…let it happen as it happens.”

“i think i’m too drunk to really understand this right now, babe,” i droned on, eyes squinted as if i could understand him better with a blurred gaze.

ii tapped my nose sweetly. he stepped back, glancing over to vessel. “just let it.”

i met vessel’s gaze- invisible to me, but so obvious from the burn on my skin. he stood from his seat, hesitant, yet somehow determined.

i felt my body pulled towards him. we met in the middle. some stupid country song was playing. the bad was emptying. our friends were loud. my breath smelled of alcohol. vessel seemed exhausted.

but, for some reason, this was the night that it would happen.

vessel held out a hand, skin pale yet still stained from the paint. i took it. he waited a moment, as if awaiting my consent. then he guided us to the backdoor of the bar. we were out in an alley, alone.

“i’m sorry, lovey,” he said, once he was settled on his heels in front of me.

i clutched his hand like an anchor. “for what?” my brows furrowed.

he brushed a thumb across my knuckles, “that it’s like this. i…i wish i could love you under different circumstances.”

the word passed by without a second thought, so easily spoken from his lips. i barely noticed it. “it’s okay…it’s-its not your fault, vess.”

“no, it’s just,” he ran his other hand overtop his hat, covering his hair just perfectly. “it’s just that i need you to know that. how i feel about you..” now he danced around the word, “because i need you to know that…but…i can’t go forward with any of it. i can’t follow through with it. and i’m so sorry. i just…can’t.”

i slid my hand up to his cheek. he nearly crumbled under my touch. my fingers touched the edge of his sunglasses. he didn’t move. he didn’t try to stop me as i slid the glasses off his nose. i knew those eyes well- i was grateful to see them, even in this dark lighting. i could read him better, i could see his soul.

“i’ll sign whatever you want me to sign.”

the words lingered between us as he processed them. then, he denied them, “lovey…i-“

“i’ll sign a million nda’s. i’ll sign away my life. i’ll- i’ll delete all of my social media. and i’ll wear a mask, too. i’ll step into the darkness with you, vess. i’d do it. i want to do it.”

“lovey, please, i can’t-“

“i can. if you can’t, i can. i can for the both of us.”

vessel dropped his chin, looking away from me. “i can’t ask you to do that for me. beside, you- you don’t even know what i look like. i’m- i’m probably not what you’d want. you can’t love someone you think is ugly. i don’t know, lovey.”

“i do know, vess,” i quickly replied. “i know. i know you. i know your soul. it doesn’t matter to me what you look like, or who you are. cause i know your heart. and that’s all that matters to me. besides, i can’t go on hiding- knowing that we love each other. i just can’t. i won’t allow it.”

vessel met my eyes again. he removed his hand from my own. his hand hung by his thigh, clenching into a fist. it shook. i was worried he’d walk away.

but, after his hesitation softened, he reached his hands up to his face. he tugged the medical mask off of his ears, revealing his familiar lips and smile to me. his nose was new, a feature i’d never seen. but, it was just a nose.

he took off his hat, too, revealing his entire complexion to me. i grinned in response, barely even getting a good luck at him because i really didn’t care.

“that changed nothing for me,” i grasped at his hands. “i feel the same. i feel- the same. maybe better, knowing that you trust me. but- the same. i still want you- i need you, vess…please. i know you need me, too. i’ve always seen it in your eyes. just…take a chance. come out of the darkness…for me. please.”

vessel slid his hands up my arms, slowly, brushing my hair over my shoulders as he passed. his fingertips tickled my neck, the lobes of my ears, until he cupped my cheeks. i leaned into his touch, eyes alight with abounding adoration. he tilted his head down, brilliantly colored eyes boring into my own.

and then he kissed me.

[sa10mb0n3z]

Hello!! This is my first time submitting an ask/request so I hope I'm doing this right :']

May I request smut Vampire!Sebastian x Trans!Reader? Like- Just needy vampire Sebastian with his beloved transmale reader ajnsiajaialspkcjdiaislnc

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Hell Knows No Heaven, Because They Do

Not Have You.

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Summary: Poor farmer has been in a rut lately. His spouse has been going out at night more than usual. He doesn’t come home until the break of dawn and then subsequently sleeps all day. Worried that he’s cheating, farmer goes out at night and follows his lover into the mines. Things don’t go as planned.

Contains: mentions of blood, sharp objects and of course smut. Transmasc farmer has afab anatomy but has top and bottom surgery. Body worship, some references to heaven and religious worship. Super gay. Vampire Seb is incredibly needy.

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You and Sebastian have been dating for a while now. Nothing too crazy has happened yet, besides some adorable little dates like the one time he drove you across the valley at night and to the docks where Sam and Abigail had set up a romantic, gothic style picnic for you both to enjoy. You could tell that Elliott helped with the candles and black rose petals, but you still enjoyed it. One thing you didn’t enjoy, however, was his tendency to go out at night and sleep all day.

At first you thought it was a common sign of depression and even tried to talk to him about his unhealthy lifestyle, but once the talk was over all you got was a ‘I’ll try to keep that in mind.’ Which, for his credit, did keep him up for a good while. You did notice however, he seemed a lot more tired than usual when he was up in the day, but you chalked it up to his body not being used to a normal schedule.

But lately in the past week or so he’s been distant. He hasn’t been at his house, you have Maru to thank for telling you that, and he certainly wasn’t at the farm house. So where was he? You missed your partner. Missed his pretty black hair and pale skin. You wanted him over more, especially when the days work got to be too much and you needed a quick release.

But tonight was different, you were walking through the mines, desperately trying to get some amethyst for Clint and his piss poor attempts to snag Emily when you heard a low rumbling sound for a cavern you had yet to explore. Grabbing your sword you ready for attack, and venture inside.

A large black mass hovers on a ledge, its body upside down and groveling with a thick, deep growl that hung in the air like black paint. It hisses and you realize it’s a incredibly large bat, figure larger than anything you’ve ever seen before, and when it opened its eyes they looked to vaguely familiar that you couldn’t help but lower your guard. Which was your biggest mistake.

Within an instant you were on your back, legs in the air and all the air in your lungs was gone. You groaned and realized that your sword was gone and you couldn’t get the creature off of you. You expected a slow and painful death, to have your ravaged body or whatever was left of it found by Marlon or Linus, but instead a whimpering sound filled your ears and the creature was shapeshifting into…Sebastian? You gasped as he licked your neck and you immediately pull back.

“Seb, what the hell, Is this where you’ve been all this time?”

He whimpers and you finally notice the hard-on in his skinny jeans. You prop yourself up on your elbows and immediately hold your head, trying to process what the fuck is happening.

“My darling,” Be begins, voice somehow much lower but high with need at the same time. He begins to explain why he’s been down here, that he was a vampire and nobody besides his mother and Mary knew. He would never tell Demetrius. You nod in understanding at that part. What gets you, however is when he explains that his mating cycle had started and how he didn’t want to hurt you on accident. You smile and shake your head, holding your lovers face. ‘You could never hurt me” You state, smiling. Sebastian smiled and kissed your lips.

“I’m sorry I scared you so much, baby.” He states running hot kisses down your neck. You smirk and slowly start to spread your legs a little more. “In the mines?” He gasps and you think for a moment. Better now, you’re lucky a skeleton or slime hadn’t gotten to you yet and should take the luck you’ve got know and leave.

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Thats how you got here, on the bed of your farm house with Sebastian between your legs. He smirking at your blushing face as he gently pulls off your shirt, revealing your top surgery scars. He traces a long claw across your scar and slowly leans down to kiss your nipple. He slowly traces the beautiful nub and pinches the other as you whimper and sigh and beneath him. You squirm and as as pulls back to remove your jeans you feel a dripping at your core. Sebastian goes impatient and rips through both your jeans and boxers, and with no hesitation shoves his tongue inside you.

You whine and gasps, feeling him hit your clit with a forked tongue. He licks between the folds and keeps you pinned down with his strength. Teasing your cunt, he slowly presses a finger inside as he eats you out. Sebastian looks up at your blushing face as you groans above him, and despite his damned ways as a creature of the night; he feels his tethered soul rise as the holy feeling of you around him makes him believe that the same god who damned him, blessed the world with your holy figure.

Your scars were like two perfect symbols that any man would praise if given the chance. Perfect. You were perfect and as he added a second figure and watched your body shake with desire, he knew that he had a found a heaven worth prasing. He grabs your thighs and immediately put them on his shoulder as he went deeper inside, tongue so deep you could see a bulge within your stomach.

And as soon as it starts he’s out, licking his dripping fingers as he as he looms over your twitching form. An evil look in his eyes as he strip’s himself and pounces on you. You immediately feel his grip on your thighs once more as he positions himself with your cunt. Shoving inside you, he immediately starts to move back and forth while watching you become jello. You scream and moans scratch as his back as he destroys you. He sits you up so that you’re sitting on his lap and pummels deep inside you. You whine and gasp, screaming his name as you feel him twitch inside and soon enough you’re coming on his cock and he continues to destroy you. After three more hard thrusts he comes inside as you twitch from overstimulation.

“Hah…I hope you’re satisfied baby…” You states a blushing, fucked out mess.

‘We’re not finished…” He states, a dark tone in his voice. You’re in for a long night.

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🦇Fin🦇

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Fanfic and title belong to Mosquake.

[soliloquent-stark]

everyone, stop what you're doing — it's my writing anniversary!

it's been a whole year since i posted my first fic. since then, i've written a total of 100,285 words across several ships (mostly stevetony) and have been very lucky to receive wonderful feedback and make some lovely friends ❣️

thank you to everyone for your support! i have many fics in the works and you'll be hearing from me for a long while, i hope 💗✨

for now, please enjoy this recap of my fics (for moodboards and excerpts, check out this tag)

stevetony:

🧺 we'll live in spaces between walls (mcu, t, 6,9k)

In the heat of a tense discussion in a cramped utility room at the Avengers Tower, Steve's deep-seated insecurities come to the surface. Tony witnesses a new and vulnerable side of him and realizes they have more in common than he thought.

💌 ctrl-alt-deceit (au, t, 17,1k)

A corporate espionage story told solely through excerpts from CEO Tony Stark's inbox. Featuring romantic pining, delightful office lunches, sarcastic super-geniuses, intense investigations, revolutionary nanotechnology research, unhinged arch-nemeses, haunting ghosts from the past, and an endearing emoji overload by a witty Peter Parker.

🦔 the hedgehog (and one million blue whales) (mcu, t, 8,2k)

Steve and Tony's love story unfolding through a series of everyday moments in the span of two years, pieced together to paint the canvas of their intertwined lives — a precious portrait woven with quirky whale-themed endearments, meaningful acts of service, soothing showers, cherished gifts, and one adorable hedgehog.

💛 honey whiskey (au, e, 27,7k—wip)

Tony Stark, a twice-divorced recovering alcoholic battling depression, unexpectedly spends a night with Steve, a mesmerizing and kind Brooklyn teacher who settles deep in his heart, despite Tony's strict no romantic feelings policy. Unbeknownst to him, Tony made the other man feel alive again, too — and Steve is nothing if not stubborn.

🍹 i’m fine all alone (but it’s nice to be here with you) (mcu, t, 9,4k)

Two months after the Battle of Earth, Tony, grappling with post-retirement uncertainty and an identity crisis, invites Steve on a Christmas trip to Jamaica.

📄 annex 11 (mcu, g, 1,3k)

Trapped together during a snowstorm in the middle of a mission, Steve attempts to soothe Tony’s growing anxiety, only to discover that Tony had the solution all along.

🫀 may the angels bow down for you (mcu, t, 2k)

Tony pleads for help from his Angel; Steve pleads for forgiveness from Tony.

🥀 i give you, as you see, a ready argument (mcu, t, 1,5k)

Two things Tony cannot shake — his mortality and a secret love for Steve that lingers on, eleven years and counting.

💗 i live in a city that lives in a different age (mcu, t, 10.8k)

Steve Rogers has fourteen days to complete fourteen therapy homework assignments.

buckytony:

❤️ love is a tower where all of us can live (mcu, t, 2,1k)

Five times Bucky takes care of Tony and one time Tony realizes why.

stevetonybucky:

🎶 you are the sweetest melody i never sung (mcu, t, 5,6k)

Bucky struggles with insomnia, Tony plays the piano, and Steve just wants the two most important men in his life to get along.

sambucky:

🍀 maybe love was always near (mcu, t, 4,6k)

Five times Sam and Bucky’s friends wrongly assume they’re dating and one time they get it right.

samtony:

🥂 the only bad you’ve ever done is see the good in me (mcu, t, 2,7k)

The script for a missing scene in which fugitive Sam Wilson risks it all to deliver a birthday gift to Tony Stark.

[chaosology]

haven't i given enough?

— Sam Kerr x reader

based off another fic I wrote, hope it's ok!! masterlist

there will be a part two, let me know what you think :)

When Sam and Y/N met, everything had just fallen into place. Y/N was interning at the local hospital when the Matilda's had come for a charity event, cheering up sick kids on the ward. Y/N had never been much into sports, instead choosing to lock herself in her room on Sunday mornings when her sister would train. In fact, she had no real intention of even interacting with the team. For all she knew, they were a bother - cluttering the halls and blocking the entry ways.

That was until she slammed right into one of them.

Her pager was quiet for the first time that shift, and she had taken the opportunity to go get coffee from the break room. The pathology results in her hands were suddenly scattered on the ground as she was forced several steps back. She had just cursed, not even bothering to look at her now enemy as she crouched down to pick them up.

"Shit! I'm so so sorry," the voice came, "I'll get it for you."

Her hands were joined by two more that anxiously fumbled around on the vinyl tiles, attempting to pick up the A4 sheets that would just fall from her fingers and slip back out.

"No no, it's fine." Y/N fired back. She wanted to add a sly you've already done enough, but at least her mystery attacker had tried to help. That was more than she could say for others.

"Quite some force you've got there." Y/N followed with. She was too embarrassed to life her gaze from the ground and instead focused on the blue nikes in front of her, now reordering the papers and securing them into her clipboard.

"Yeah, comes with the job I guess"

Huh?

Y/N looked up and was met with an apologetic set of eyes and a warm smile. She took her outstretched hand, allowing herself to be pulled up.

"I'm sorry. I'm Sam... I'm Sam and I'm sorry." She was tripping over her words awkwardly, a blush beginning to paint her cheeks. Y/N had laughed, looking down to realise her hand was still in hers.

"Can I buy you a coffee?"

"So, when can I meet your family?"

You looked over to the couch where Sam was resting with her phone, the sun painting a warm glow over her body - she looked beautiful. The question had caught you off guard, Sam could tell. The way your body tensed and nervously chewed on your lip. Your relationship with your family was... complicated.. In the nine months you'd been dating, there was never any mention of your relatives despite your meeting hers.

Your older sister Ami was everything you weren't. She was sporty and athletic, witty and carefree. She exuded an air of confidence that you could never quite match no matter how hard you tried - but that you could handle. It was the taking.

At 14 you stood anxiously by the lockers as you admired Cara Stevens from afar. She was so dreamy, blonde curls framing her freckled face. She had all the important qualities you needed as a 14 year old: she was pretty, a year above AND she had the nicest stationary in her grade. You couldn't believe when she walked over to you of all people, leaning against the door of your locker. Your heart was racing, almost beating out of your chest as you met her eye.

"Hey there, you're Y/N... right?" she had asked. She smelled of fresh mint and you swear she could combust right then and there. "I was just wondering if you could give me your sister's number? No harm in trying, right?"

All feeling had left your body as you absentmindedly scribbled down her mobile number, saying nothing as you watched Cara walk over to her friends and hold up the number like it was a trophy.

You cried in the bathrooms that day.

At 19, you met Grace Li. She was your first proper girlfriend, as you swore off dating in high school to focus on getting into medicine. Grace was studying radiology and you bonded over your mutual love of the sciences, regularly making dates out of shared lectures and labs. Grace clicked instantly with your family, always coming over and helping out when she could. You didn't think much of how she would always sit next to your sister and chat when she had the chance (even if the seat next to you was free.) You thought her inviting out your sister when you went clubbing with friends was just her trying to make a good impression.

You realised you were wrong when you walked in on them with their tongues down their throats in the bathroom.

Your sister had only offered a half-hearted apology that morning. "It's not my fault, Y/N. She came on to me and we were both super drunk. You guys weren't even that serious, right?"

It irked you that it seemed she hadn't even wanted a relationship with Grace, only to win her over and have her claim. But they were only human, right? You spent that weekend in bed crying not only from sadness, but the all-consuming guilt from momentarily hating your sister. You felt so awful.

You never saw Grace again.

At 23, you begged your mum and dad to drive you to the hospital for your first day as an intern. All throughout your childhood, they would take your first day of school off work to drop you off. You'd get breakfast before and play Strawberry Kisses on the radio, singing in the back of the car and kicking your dad's seat to annoy him. You had worked your ass off to get here and wanted nothing more to relive a favourite childhood memory on what would be the most exciting day of your life.

As you left your room to meet in the kitchen of the family home, you were greeted by the obnoxiously yellow note on the fridge.

"Sorry love, Ami was subbed in for a big game! Maybe tomorrow? x"

Your emotions had bubbled up to the surface as you ripped the note from the fridge. It crumpled in your hand as you stood there, tears falling down your cheeks. You had wiped them away pathetically, sniffling as you grabbed your lunch and stuffed it in your bag. The drive to work was silent. There was no Strawberry Kisses, no breakfast and kiss on the cheek. There was no photo of you in your scrubs outside the hospital, mimicking the cheesy grin you made in your kindy photo.

They never made up for it.

So yes, the relationship with your family was strained. There was no awareness on their part; instead, they would pass comments at the table about how you were oh so distant. They would tease about Ami "stealing" Grace as you sat eating, feeling like a little girl all over again. You loved your family, but they had the ability to reduce you to nothing in seconds without even realising it. The worst part was could never quite bring yourself to criticise it, always too guilty to think even a bad word.

You had wanted so desperately to keep Sam a secret, but she was getting impatient. You texted your mother that evening, asking if she was free for dinner and made plans for the following Saturday. Sam held you in that arms as you slept that night, but you couldn't quite rid yourself of that sinking feeling in your stomach.

When you arrived at dinner that night, you noticed the way your sister left the spare chair next to her and insisted you sat next to your father. Sam had looked almost uncomfortable at first, but next you knew she was having an animated conversation with Ami about football. The sinking feeling returned.

As you laid in bed that night, you traced Sam's face. She was exhausted - having fallen asleep as her head hit the pillow. Your fingers danced delicately across her cupid's bow, running down her jawline and coming to rest just above her heart.

The tender moment was interrupted by the buzz of her phone. She was too far gone to even notice and the screen eventually turned back off, returning the room to darkness. Until it buzzed again. And again.

Frustrated, you grabbed it to put it on silent. Thats when you noticed.

"Heya, it's Ami. Lovely meeting Y/N's better half tonight :) Send me that link we spoke about? x"

Oh.

[sallyamongpoison]

Graceless Gabriel standing in the middle of a motel parking lot while a thunderstorm rages. He tips his head back, rain soaking his face and hair, and opens his hands to feel the water on his palms. It’s dark. Lightning makes it seem like midday in angry flashes overhead. The thunder is deafening. The ground seems to tremble in time with the sound. The wind whips his hair, but he seems unfazed.

Sam runs out to meet him, jacket pulled up over his head in an attempt at staying dry. He stops just short, flinching as another wave of thunder and lightning rolls and fills the sky, with his focus fully on the angel in front of him. He shouts, asking what the fuck Gabriel is doing out in the storm, and reaches out to grab for one of Gabriel’s hands.

Gabriel doesn’t move. He hardly acknowledges the interruption. His eyes are closed. Water streaks down his handsome face like he’s under a shower head. Sam doesn’t know how long he’s been out there, only that he saw Gabriel’s familiar silhouette in a flash of lightning. The weather is raging, but for the first time in a long time Gabriel seems calm. Quiet without the undercurrent of anxiety and fear. He breathes deep and slow as the water pours over him.

Sam yells again, asking what he’s doing and that they should go inside, and it’s only then that Gabriel seems to hear him. He slowly lowers his chin and opens his eyes. They’re wet, but in the random flashes of lightning and the quivering light of the lone street lamp at the end of the parking lot Sam can see that it isn’t rain that’s on his face. Not just rain, at least. Tears. The same kind of tears that are cried in the shower when there’s already water on your face. They mix with the rain, salt lost in the fresh water that’s coming down in sheets from the sky, and Gabriel swallows hard. Maybe he’s swallowing a scream.

He steels himself, golden eyes looking up at Sam’s slightly hunched and completely soaked form. It’s like Gabriel is taking him in for the first time as he stares with almost unseeing eyes. His jaw is trembling. It’s not cold, summer storm that it is, but Sam can see Gabriel’s shoulders shaking. Another lightning flash, and the shadow on the ground is incomprehensibly large with wings spread out like they’re trying to soak up the storm. It’s Gabriel, but not as Sam has ever known him. This is angel. This is a broken angel standing alone in the middle of Creation.

Sam feels a hand wrap around his own. He’s still reaching out, but is suddenly unsure of what might reach back. Gabriel takes his hand, squeezes it as another bolt of lightning streaks across the sky and the air is filled with the cacophony of thunder, and their eyes meet. Gabriel’s, usually so full of mischief and laughter, are dark. They’ve been dark for a while now. They’re dark and scared, like a child in the night, and Sam squeezes Gabriel’s hand back in what he hopes is a comforting gesture.

“I can feel Him like this,” Gabriel says, but it’s so soft that the noise of the storm almost drowns it out, “like He never forgot about us,”

The storm rages. Sam wonders if this is what Heaven was like before Gabriel left. He can imagine Michael and Lucifer warring with the storm in the background like a Renaissance painting come to life. Gabriel doesn’t let his hand go. They’re both soaked to the bone, but Gabriel looks as though he has no desire to move. It’s dangerous, Sam knows that, but another plea to go inside dies in his throat.

They stand outside until the thunder fades and it’s just steady sheets of unending rain. Sometimes Sam thinks he can hear Gabriel sob, but he doesn’t say anything. Instead he lowers the collar of his jacket and stands up straighter. He holds Gabriel’s hand and squeezes it when it seems like it might all be too much. Inside might be more comfortable, but outside is the connection Gabriel needs.

Gabriel never lets go of Sam’s hand. He stays grounded to the spot: all the things he loves swirling in the dark with him.

[lunitawrites]

Both Sides of the Moon - part one

pairing: biker!joel miller x fem!reader rating: explicit word count: 2.8k summary: After a troubled childhood you move back to your hometown. You are trying to avoid facing the dark past of your family, but you realize it will be harder than you thought when a mysterious stranger appears in town trying to take revenge. TWs: no-outbreak AU, age gap (reader mid-twenties, Joel is late forties), loss of parents, reference to sex work, reference to foster homes, guns, knife, alcohol consumption, cigarettes, Joel being violent towards reader, petnames, reader has hair long enough that it can be grabbed, otherwise no physical description, no use of y/n a/n: hey! so this is my first attempt at writing, I really hope some of you out there will like it. I am eternally grateful to @papipascalispunk who reviewed and edited my work. Thanks a million to @toxicanonymity and @hier--soir for their suggestions! Shoutout to the other Joel Millers on bikes: a minute from home by @agentmarcuspike, jailbird by @toxicanonymity and little mouse by @katiexpunk & @josephquinnswhore masterlist

You are fidgeting with your nametag in front of the mirror, trying to apply it to your uniform, but you must have bent the needle when you removed it last time because it won't stay up now.

“Don’t worry about it darlin’,” you hear Arlene shout from the kitchen, “It's a small town, everyone knows you by now.”

“I suppose they do,” you mumble and drop the pin to the dresser. She's always been nice to you, almost mothering you, since you started working together in the diner. You take one last look in the mirror, smoothing out your uniform and walking through the kitchen to start your 7 PM shift.

It's a slow start. The townsfolk don't start coming until the sun paints the sky purple and orange, until the dust strats to settle and the cicadas’ song fills up the night. Your shift begins at the bar; whiskey, beer, salted peanuts, a smile or two for better tips. The bar fills up with a subtle buzz, stench of alcohol and anticipation.

Later on in the evening, Sam asks you to wait tables instead. You usually prefer staying behind the bar, but it's Friday night, the dining area will get busy soon. Arlene will need the extra pair of hands taking the orders anyway, so you pick up your notepad and pen and head out to the floor. 

You are always cautious out here, you have to be. The men are not violent, but they always try to take what they think they deserve. A brush of a knuckle on your thighs, eyes lingering on the swell of your breasts, an inappropriate comment disguised as a compliment, fingertips on the curve of your hips as they pass by. Sam, your boss, always makes sure that it’s not more, keeping an eye on you at all times from behind the bar. Sam is one of the few people who knows about your past, who knows that there were times when you were giving a lot more than a smile for some crinkled up bills, who knows that just a few months ago, your uniform was nothing more than a pair of thigh highs and your underwear.

—

You were six when your dad died, and you moved away with your mom right after. You stayed with her for another few months until they diagnosed her. She passed away before the next Christmas. By January, you were in your first foster home. After you got out from your last foster home with nothing more than a few pairs of clothes and the fifty dollar bill that you stole from your foster dad's wallet, you really didn’t see another option for survival. 

It started at a gentlemen's club called Red Rose, just outside of Austin, all neon lights and kitsch, velvet and satin from a decade before. They gave you a room in the motel next to it, but only if you worked the after hours shift, so you agreed. You didn't know what after hours meant at the time, but you would have agreed to almost anything if it meant that you would spend the night in a bed and not somewhere outside.

The after hours, you learned quickly, meant selling your body to anyone who took interest in it during the opening hours of the club. So while you did spend your night in a bed, it was with a truck driver named Dylan, who paid you hundred dollars for an hour of you being a good girl, as he described. Forty of those dollars covered the motel bill and twenty went to the club manager for organizing the deal.

You spent six years working at Red Rose, eventually saving up enough money so you didn't have to stay at the motel. You rented a flat with black mold and sticky linoleum floors, sharing it with three of the other girls from the club. You were driving an old Chevy that one of the girls passed onto you after she moved up north. Six years of Dylans and Bobs and Johns and Joses and Miguels. Six years of sweat and spit and bruises and slaps and come, until you couldn't anymore. 

You moved back to your hometown, although it was never really your home, and while you knew little about the circumstances of your father’s death, you were still afraid to come back, terrified to face the past. But as it turned out, you never had to, as if there was some silent agreement amongst the town that they never spoke of your family. No one gossipped, or if they did, they did so silently that it never reached your ears. They welcomed you into town as if you were a stranger. 

You moved into your old family home at the edge of town. White paint chipped from wooden boards, almost two decades of dust and sorrow covering every inch. You slowly made it your own home, settling into the master bedroom that was once your parents’, but leaving every other room untouched. You have not dared to open the door of your old bedroom yet. 

You still drove the old Chevy when you started working at Sam’s six nights a week, the only diner in town, serving the majority of the people who lived there.

—

It's Friday, which means a good crowd and better tips. Friday means an extra drink for everyone to celebrate yet another week survived in this dusty town in south Texas, just above the border. So you move among the tables with a smile so wide that your face starts to hurt.

It's almost eleven now and most of the tables are occupied; workers for their well-deserved after work drink, youngsters pregaming before driving up to Austin for a night out, some couples leaning over their drinks to be closer to one another, families finishing up their meals, greasy hands stopping you to order another basket of fries. The buzz is loud now, the air in the diner thick and heavy with alcohol and laughter. A usual Friday at Sam’s, until it isn’t.

The door squeaks open, heavy footsteps on the floor, broad shoulders in the doorframe. You really shouldn't be able to hear it over the sound of Friday in the diner, but you do. You lock eyes with deep amber, a pair of sad eyes, searching for a place to sit. Strong arms hidden under a black leather jacket, dark wash jeans, disheveled brown curls, almost halo-like, lit by the street lights behind him. The diner seems to catch up with you, surprised faces turning to the direction of the door, sentences left unfinished, whispers let out, cheeks turned red in surprise, Adam’s apples bobbing up and down. Is it? It can’t be. The sounds of Friday fun turn into whispers, and whispers turn to silence. Fear creeps up in your spine, something primal, something unexplainable.

He walks up to an empty table, heavy boots on sticky floor are the only sound now. The squeal of a chair, denim rubbing against the fake leather of the booth, fingers tapping on the tabletop, an impatient sigh. You move your feet from where they were rooted to the ground just a minute ago. Sweaty hands flipping paper on the notepad. You clear your throat before closing up the space between you and his table.

“What can I get you?”, your voice comes out raspy, almost scared. He looks up at you, a faint smile on his face, eyes not quite meeting yours. Instead, he looks at your lips, gaze burning on your skin, you press your lips together, as if you could hide them entirely. Your eyes flick over to the bar, searching for another pair of brown eyes, searching for comfort. But comfort is not what you find, Sam looks back at you with a wild gaze, almost panic in his eyes.

“Whiskey, neat,” the stranger says, now looking at his hands on the table.

“Coming right up!”, you answer with fake cheerfulness in your voice. Legs heavy as you move, “A whiskey, neat,” you say when you reach the bar, waiting for Sam to prepare the drink. You understand that the questions are not for now, the questions are for later. The people slowly turn their attention back to the drinks in front of them, conversations starting again. But still, the air stays as if it was frozen the minute the stranger came in, Friday never has been so quiet at Sam’s diner..

“There you go”, you say as you place the glass in front of him, voice heavy with the accent you thought you never had.

“Thanks, sweetheart,” he says, not looking up at you this time.

Time feels slow, dragging on every minute, every second of the night. You cannot take being inside anymore. You feel like you are going to suffocate.

“I am going on my break,” you say quickly and don’t wait for anyone to acknowledge, just disappear through the kitchen. 

The muggy evening air hugs your skin as you open the back door of the diner. Being outside is just as suffocating as being inside, but at least it's quieter. You take a cigarette out from the crumpled package in your apron, place it between your lips but don't light it just yet. You should quit. You exhale sharply and put the cigarette back. Istead, you lean your head back to the wall, looking up at the moon. She's in her full glory tonight, casting pale light to the dark forest in front of you.

You are not sure what happened inside. This man who you are sure you have never seen in your life just woke up something deep inside you. You feel like you are drawn to him by a strange force, a force that is so foreign to you. There was a certain kind of sadness in his eyes that you only see when you look into the reflection of your own eyes. Grief. Lost. Denial. Something that balances between madness and sanity. 

You hear the front door open with a squeaking sound. Footsteps, drunk laughter and heavy drawls take over the silence of your break. You are about to go inside when you hear an intoxicated voice call out:

“Where do you think you’re goin´?” the drunk man shouts. “You think you can just walk in here and have a drink like the rest of us? Like you fuckin’ belong here.” he spits. The rest of the men stop talking. Now he is the only voice. “Let me tell you. You don´t. You should not come around anymore. You are not welcome here and you should know that.”

“So what happens if I do  come around?” the stranger's voice is laced with coldness. You slowly start walking to the front. You need to see him again. You need to understand what's happening. You feel yourself shaking, despite the warm humidity of the night. 'You should just stay out of it,' the voice in your head says, but you keep walking.

You peek around the corner of the diner. There he is with six men from the town. They all seem fairly drunk. They seem like they are looking for trouble.

“Well, if you are so fuckin´ sure you gonna come around,” he drawls “we might as well just give you a taste of what we are plannin´ to do with you. Right, boys?” he laughs and the men laugh with him, like a pack of coyotes. They all sound way too drunk to do any real harm, but there are six of them against him.

“Try me” the stranger grits through his teeth. He doesn't seem to be afraid, he seems like he would not care if he lives or dies. He seems like someone who gave up a long time ago.

“That ’s enough!” You shout and start walking up to the crowd. ”Go home or I will call Sam out and we will see who won’t be allowed to come around here anymore”. The loudest one flashes you a drunk grin and says: “That is just fuckin’ hilarious. You wanna protect him?” he asks.

“I am not protecting anyone, it’s my job to keep this place running. So I am doing just exactly that.” you say putting your hands on your waist. “Now, gentlemen, I would appreciate, if you all went home and cared about your wives and kids just as much as you care about your liquor. I reckon you had enough fun for tonight. Go! All of you!” you order them.

You are surprised to see that they do. It might be the mention of their wives and the reminder of how they would react if they saw them coming home drunk and all beaten up. The loudest one turns back for a second and addresses you. “You don’t know what you are doing.”

“I guess not.” you whisper and turn your head to the stranger.

“You didn't need to, darlin’. I can defend myself,” he says, drawl thick as the night above you. 

“Mhm, you seem like the type who can,” you say with a half smile. He laughs at that, but there is no humor in it. It should not be possible for a laugh to sound that sad.

“You new around here?”, he takes a step forward, cornering you to the wall. His eyes are searching for the name tag on your uniform. As he cannot find anything his eyes flick back to your face again. His gaze lights something up in you, deep inside your stomach. Frozen flames licking your insides. You are terrified of it, you are terrified of him.

“You can say that, moved back recently. And you? It seems like everyone knows you around here.” you say, heart pounding in your throat. 

“Wasn't hard to sense that, was it?”, you can feel his breath on your skin. Whiskey, burning on your cheeks.

“No,” you say, casting down your eyes. Somehow his proximity makes you restless. His presence makes the blood rush faster in your body. Your reaction is almost instinctual, you want to rip his flash and sink your teeth into him. To be closer or to get away. You are not sure.

He must sense it, a sly smile across his lips. He lifts his hand, hovers his knuckles over your cheeks tentatively. You are red burning fire. He brushes his knuckles over your left cheek, your chin, the curve of your neck. He rests his palm on your shoulder at last.

“You are shaking,” he murmurs. He takes his hand away. It's almost like you couldn't breathe while he touched you. Lungs filling up with air again. You lock eyes with him. “So what's your..,” he starts but cannot finish, Arlene opens the back door and calls your name. 

“Everything okay here?”, she asks.

His eyes darken. Amber turns black. “It's you,” he says, “I should have fuckin’ known.” One hand grabbing your hair, the other turning you around. Rough denim scratching the back of your thighs as he pushes you up to the wall. Head knocking on wood, you feel dizzy. You hear Arlene’s muffled scream, the door opening again. Cold steel pressed into your throat, you taste your death. “I couldn't have planned this better, could I?”, he whispers into your ear.

“Who the fuck are you? What do you want from me?”, you spit, fear blinding you as you try to grab a hold of him behind you.

“You don't know who I am? That's good. That´s just fuckin’ good”, he laughs, blood freezing in your veins from the sound of it.

You hear footsteps, Arlene’s breathy cry in the background. Boots then. Heavier than she could be. 

“Joel Miller,” Sam says with venom in his voice, “Leave her the fuck alone!”

His gun is pointing to Joel’s temple. Sam takes a step closer, “Get out of here. Right fuckin’ now.” Joel slowly releases the handful of hair he still has in his fist. As he does, a bitter smile spreads on his face.

“Another time then,” he murmurs, low enough that only you can hear. He steps back, walks slowly to the parking lot where he swings his leg over a 1990 Harley-Davidson, the exact same model that is in your father's garage. 

You look at Sam, eyes blurred with tears and confusion.You are certain of one thing, and one thing only. Joel Miller wants to kill you.

—

Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs are much appreciated. Please let me know if you'd like to be on the tag list for the next parts!

[weirdowithaquill]

Let's Talk About Rebecca:

Well, I said we needed to talk about Rebecca, and here we are.

To begin with, I would like to preface this with a simple disclaimer: I am in no way telling people to like or dislike the version of Rebecca found in BWBA, but instead looking into what caused such a deep disdain for this character, one that lasted long after Henry had been departed and was fuelled not by her position as a ‘replacement’, but rather by the series itself. This is not a dissertation on why Henry is a stronger character and why Rebecca should never have been introduced - that is counterproductive and, in some ways, false. This is instead something adjacent to an essay in which I will focus on how Rebecca’s flawed introduction, characterisation and tenure in the series both represents the BWBA era as a whole, but also what led to her being notably absent from All Engines Go, the reboot of Thomas and Friends. This will be followed by me attempting to redesign her characterisation and create an alternate version of Rebecca, one which in my opinion would have done far better for herself in the series. 

Part 1: Who is Rebecca, and Why Her Characterisation Doesn't Work:

According to the former official Thomas and Friends website, Rebecca is: “...a very cheerful and happy engine. She is painted a sunshine yellow which reflects her positive outlook on life. Rebecca always sees the best in others and enjoys helping everyone around her feel good about themselves. Despite her warm nature, Rebecca is not afraid to stand up for herself or her friends. She is a big, strong tender engine who is not intimidated by the more experienced engines on the railway. Rebecca is the number 22 engine.” 

Already, there is a major issue here: her characterisation is a strange amalgamation of others, who could probably just as easily take on her roles without really breaking any of the episodes she is in. “Cheerful and happy” are characteristics held by Ryan, Stanley, Whiff, Thomas, Percy, Edward, Mavis, Peter Sam; the list goes on. There are already far too many engines whose main qualities are cheerful and happy. She is painted yellow - like Molly and Flora were, or if we go further back, like Jock, Pip and Emma were. “Sees the best in others” was once upon a time a quality unique to Edward, as well as Salty. “Enjoys helping everyone around her feel good about themselves” sounds way too close to what Emily has become in the series, without mentioning the evolutions of Mavis’ character or Rocky’s character. If we add in her clumsiness and shyness, we get Kevin and Molly respectively - and Kevin is also yellow! She isn’t intimidated nor does she have any trouble at all with fending off engines who want to be mean to her. She isn’t unique here either: Duck did this when he first arrived, and he had a much bigger and more notable impact because of how he acted when confronted with the big engines' attitudes. What all this really means is that Rebecca has already finished a character arc at some point in the past and does not need to grow further. 

And here we reach the crux of the problem with Rebecca in BWBA: she has nowhere for her character to grow into - something all the other main characters have done decades ago. This is especially problematic at this late stage in the show; Thomas & Friends has been running since 1984, and almost every character they pair Rebecca up with has had an exceptionally long time to bed themselves in and grow into the space they occupy. For Rebecca to compete, and truly qualify for her status as a main character, her character needs to make its own space - and importantly, make that space bigger than as many other characters as possible. This is a running problem in the TV series post Season 7, and something that really baked itself into the show by the time the series reached CGI: the characters do not develop. The Steam Team (bar Emily) hasn’t had any real, natural character developments since the Mitton era - not any sustained over multiple seasons, at least. If we go back to the Classic series - or further back to the Railway Series - we find that the very essence of Thomas is in its strong characters and their natural growth. Gordon grows into being more humble, Edward and Henry grow more confident in themselves, Thomas and Percy mature and (to some extent) learn their limits - the list goes on. There are characters that do not grow as much or remain the same, yes - but they still have some sort of character arc where the essence of them as a character is tested. 

Rebecca does not undergo character growth in the series, and her character itself is not tested in any meaningful way. Instead, she is overused and underutilised - by which I mean, she appears constantly throughout the series but is given nothing to define her as being any different to any of the characters mentioned above. Worse yet, Rebecca’s leads are easily interchangeable with any other Steam Team member, and this further complicates her. Rebecca takes trucks perfectly - like Donald or Douglas would, or perhaps Edward? Rebecca is too fast and leaves passengers behind - like Peter Sam did to the refreshment lady. And when she causes all kinds of delay, is that not like James did way back in Series 3? And she’s tricked by Diesel… like almost every single engine in the entire series, going as far back as Gordon, Henry and James were in Series 2. 

Would it have been better to divide Rebecca’s leads up and give other, more established engines more spotlight? Probably. Her personality is similar to a number of others, and her introduction is basically a mix and mash of older episodes - notably the eighth series episode, Thomas and the Tuba, the tenth series episode, Seeing the Sights, the first series episode, Thomas' Train, and the fourth series episode, Peter Sam and the Refreshment Lady. This really doesn’t help to define her, especially when all fans think about when they watch the episode is what other, older episode it is most like. Her subsequent appearances do very little to endear her either, both due to the lack of effort put in by Mattel to ground Rebecca in the series and the low impact of the episodes she does star in. Characters like Oliver or Duke have had lasting impacts on the fandom despite their short tenures because their episodes have high impact. Duck is one of the most popular characters in the fandom of this show, despite having been a secondary character ever since Series 5, and being practically absent from the series between Series 8 and Series 16.

Rebecca also takes up a difficult spot as a replacement for Henry, which complicates her relationship with a large portion of the fandom, meaning a lot of her as a character is questioned in relation to what Henry would have done. While technically, Rebecca was slated as a replacement to Edward, her arrival coincides with Henry’s departure, and thus for the purposes of this, we will consider her to have taken the position Henry had, similarly to Nia and Edward. Whether or not Henry’s departure from the main cast is a bad thing is an issue unto itself, which dives into character assassination and to what extent the Henry seen in Season 21 is the same Henry seen in Season 1. In either case, Rebecca’s roles could have quite easily been filled by Henry or another standing character, and her characterisation is too similar to other, pre-existing characters to make her stand out amongst her costars and their longer, more notable characterisations and character growths. 

Much of this is compounded by how Rebecca was introduced and integrated into the main cast, which is clearly seen when compared with another notable case of an engine joining the Steam Team after it had been first codified: Emily. 

Part 2: Rebecca vs Emily - How to Introduce a Main Character: 

Rebecca’s introduction is extremely underwhelming, especially for a Steam Team member. Thomas and Gordon shared the very first episode, Edward established himself as a foil to Gordon in his introduction and in Henry’s first appearance, he is bricked up in a tunnel in perhaps one of the series’ most infamous and iconic episodes. James makes his grand entrance by crashing into a field, Percy nearly gets destroyed by Gordon and Toby tugs on the viewer’s heartstrings as we watch him lose his entire livelihood. Moving forward several seasons, Emily’s introduction includes her saving another engine from a terrible accident - and then lastly, Nia gets an entire movie to embed her. Rebecca just bumbles about for ten minutes and takes the final shed at Tidmouth. 

To make matters worse, Henry’s departure is equally low-intensity. Edward at least got a full episode; Henry got a single line, used to further Gordon’s character as opposed to finalising Henry’s arc and introducing Rebecca’s. And while Gordon’s character here is interesting and new and possibly the first real growth we’ve seen from any of the Steam Team since Henry, Toby and Percy regressed into children before CGI even began; it does nothing to create a satisfactory conclusion to Henry’s arc or properly build up Rebecca’s arrival. This ultimately undermines Rebecca’s position as a primary character in the series, where she has joined far too late in the series to make an impact without dedicated time and effort being put into her. 

We are expected to accept that Rebecca has simply arrived and is now a main character by the show without any reasoning behind this. There is no connection between the viewer and Rebecca to justify this promotion to main character status, and it is telling. The writers don’t have anything new or unique to say about Rebecca either and it reflects in her episodes, which are remixes of old episodes or bland and unoriginal. This is especially painful in an era when so much of the writing is like this, bar the few episodes that really manage to break through the white noise. Ironically, two of the episodes that do really stand out have Edward and Toby as main characters respectively. 

In contrast, Emily is very well introduced to her position and has a long, notable character arc that plays out across both the Classic and HiT eras to cement her as a main character before making her a permanent member of the Steam Team - a journey that endeared her to fans and helped to build her characterisation to make her unique and interesting. Emily is first introduced in Season 7, where she has a strong introductory story played out against Thomas where she steals Annie and Clarabel and then rescues Oliver from a nasty accident. I’m not entirely certain, but this might be the first time that an engine takes Annie and Clarabel without asking - prior to this, Percy and Duck both got permission or it wasn’t mentioned. And after this episode, Emily does not immediately move into Tidmouth Sheds - she remains at Knapford, despite having further notable appearances across the rest of the season. 

What is made apparent in Season 7 is her characterisation. Emily is brave and bossy, but kind-hearted. She doesn’t headline constantly either, instead playing off other characters and rolling into the background when needed. She slots naturally into a secondary role in this season and feels like an engine who belongs on the NWR. Season 7 introduces Emily to viewers and gives her characterisation to back up her unique appearance. Season 8 continued this trend, building on her more and pairing her up with different engines to settle her comfortably into being a proper presence on the island - notice how it’s an evolution over two seasons? By Calling All Engines, Emily is a main character by virtue of her cementing herself into the cast, and her berth at Tidmouth feels like a natural progression of her story, firmly planting Emily as a Steam Team member. By Season 11, she is being used as a primary character to bounce newbies like Whiff off of! 

When considering Emily and Rebecca, two takeaways make themselves known: firstly, that characters need time and effort to be cemented in the story, especially when introduced long after most other central characters have had time to imbed themselves; and secondly that characters need strong, interesting differences when compared to those they share the screen with in order to fill unfilled positions. Emily is brave and bossy, giving her a unique style that makes her work great either as the protagonist or antagonist of a story. It gives her character flexibility - she can either be the engine that the protagonist is paired up with to learn something from or it can make her big-headed and in need of being taught a lesson of her own, one which she will - in her own way - try and pass on. We don’t meet someone with a truly bossy personality like Emily’s again until Bradford, and even then it isn’t the same. Bradford is used as a comedic character, whereas Emily’s bossiness was treated seriously. 

In comparison, Rebecca’s characterisation causes her to fade where she needs to shine. By being given a personality that has already been used consistently in Thomas, she fails to have a lasting impact and the abruptness of her introduction and elevation to the Steam Team is jarring and gives older viewers no reason to be interested in her. When combining this with the few defining qualities she has, it is equally hard for Rebecca to intrigue new viewers, making her feel bland and unoriginal when compared to many of the characters she shares the screen with. Rebecca is asked to attempt and hold her own against characters who have been intentionally woven together by the series for decades - and as explained above, this is not an impossible feat. It is not an impossible feat in the CGI series either, as Hiro, Paxton and Marion have all managed to stand out in an era when characters very rarely got much character building beyond their introduction. Unfortunately, Rebecca is given none of the same care, and it is reflected in how little she is used. Despite appearing more often as the seasons continue, she gets fewer leads to the point where she has an equal number of leads to Toby in the final season.  

Emily and Rebecca are two sides of the same coin in terms of introduction, both first appearing in an episode rather than a movie and then becoming members of the main cast - the difference is that where Rebecca was shunted in and thus the writers were unsure how to use her, Emily’s careful character-building and integration into the series ensured she would always have fans, something that is reflected in her being given a proper conclusion to her character arc in Series 24, where she is given the number twelve and thus immortalised in the same way that Thomas through to Oliver were. 

Considering the above issues, it becomes quite clear that the potential best way to introduce Rebecca and have audiences become invested in her and her story is not to simply drop her into the series, but rather to build her up slowly, similarly to Emily - which was entirely possible and plausible. 

Part 3: What Could Have Been: 

If we assume that Mattel was fixated on Rebecca having her canon characterisation as well as the BWBA series, there is still an entirely plausible method that could naturally build her character into the main cast, though it is underpinned by the original intent of the showrunners to have her introduced in Series 21 and replace Edward: 

In Series 21, Rebecca is introduced and shown to be clumsy but kind. In keeping with the original episode, she messes up the express and gets in trouble, however she then redeems herself by rescuing Gordon when he breaks down with the express. She is shown to be clumsy but kind, and gets the lead in a couple of episodes, as well as several minor roles. Preferably, she stars in at least one episode with Thomas specifically. At the same time, audiences are introduced to Henry’s dilemma surrounding whether or not he should sleep at Tidmouth - be it cause of the Kipper, arguments with Gordon, or whatever. This both places Rebecca into audiences’ minds while simultaneously opening up the question of whether or not Henry will remain at Tidmouth. Edward leaves, but the shed remains open - this is filled by Nia. 

Continuing in this vein, in Series 22, Rebecca gets a couple more episodes than last season, specifically with both primary and notable secondary characters - I’m talking Duck, Oliver, Rosie, Daisy, Ryan - characters who are popular, relevant to the series and allows the series to cement her as a main addition to the cast. This is to cement her and give her plenty of characters to bounce off and develop relationships with. Meanwhile, Henry’s arc comes to a conclusion and Henry quits Tidmouth in the last episode of the season, leaving it open. This also allows the creators to build up Gordon’s reaction to Henry leaving, showing his struggle to adapt to Edward’s absence and his simmering disdain towards Nia for replacing Edward before the 23rd season. 

Finally, in Series 23, Rebecca takes the empty berth at Tidmouth, replacing Henry and kickstarting an episode - or preferably two, but this is Mattel, so it is likely to be one - where Rebecca is forced to withstand the brunt of Gordon’s anger as he boils over, being compared to Henry before proving herself. This plants her firmly as a main character, while also potentially giving her a strong reason to become close friends with Nia - who also had to deal with Gordon’s stubbornness. Henry is given a proper farewell arc as well, allowing him to gracefully retire to his secondary character status. 

By arranging Rebecca’s arrival over several seasons, she is given time to fall naturally into her position and role, developing slowly and making the connections with other characters needed to cement her position on the NWR before taking centre-stage. This would also help writers learn how to write her, creating a scenario where Rebecca has a real chance of taking off as a character and potentially even getting similar stories to Emily where she is the lead main character who is used to introduce new characters - like how Emily interacted with Whiff in the eleventh season. This would also help viewers to understand who Rebecca is and get comfortable with her presence in the show before being asked to accept her as a member of the Steam Team. 

However, I still feel like her characterisation is weak in comparison to other Steam Team members - as mentioned previously, her clumsiness has been done by several characters including Kevin and Percy, who is a fellow Steam Team member. Her “Cheerful and Happy” characterisation has been used by far too many characters to count - including Percy, Peter Sam, Derek, Stanley and more recently Ryan - and not even her bright yellow paintwork makes her unique in terms of the series, seeing as Molly and Flora both had similarly bright shades of yellow for paintwork back in the model series. Moreover, her leads place her in relatively generic situations where other characters likely would have produced far more interesting plotlines, such as Molly easily pulling trucks despite being built for expresses or James trying to prove he can still pull the express and getting into trouble. Based on this, a complete overhaul of Rebecca’s characterisation is needed. 

Part 4: How to Redevelop Rebecca as a Character: 

When designing a Thomas and Friends character, one of the first things required is a real-life basis - and Rebecca was given a very interesting and unique basis that had the potential to give her very interesting stories. Rebecca is a Bulleid Light Pacific, in particular an unrebuilt West Country Class.  These were strong, powerful mixed traffic Pacifics used by the Southern Railway from 1945 until 1967, giving them a lifetime of about 22 years. They were praised for their free steaming, excellent boilers, and had a number of notable innovations for British steam - including welded fireboxes and frames, as opposed to the traditional, riveted system. The class was also well-known for their availability, being able to pull trains on almost every line that the Southern Railway had. 

In contrast, the class was also very famous for their flaws. Remember, Rebecca is an unrebuilt West Country Class, which had many of the same problems and flaws as their larger Merchant Navy Class relatives. These issues would plague the three Bulleid Pacific classes to such an extent that many of them were rebuilt by British Railways in the 1950s into a more conventional design which utilised the strengths of the class while altering or replacing many of the issues that Bulleid built into the engines as he used them as a testing bed for some of his more modern ideas. In particular, the major problems with the West Country Class were: 

Adhesion problems: the lighter load on their driving axles meant that they were even more prone to wheelslip than the larger Merchant Navy class, requiring very careful control when starting a heavy train - there are several surviving videos of these engines struggling to start a train due to their wheelslip. 

High fuel consumption - these engines were hungry, and this was in many ways highlighted during the 1948 locomotive exchanges where the West Country Class burnt 13.5 kg/km as opposed to the 9.02 kg/km of the T9 class that they replaced - for reference, the West Country Class’ coal consumption is comparable to the Gresley A1 Pacifics prior to the exchange trials of 1925 - a number which was dropped to roughly 10 kg/km after they were modified into the A3 class. 

Restricted driver visibility due to the air-smoothed casing and soft steam exhaust from the multiple-jet blastpipe. The exhaust problem was never adequately resolved, and smoke continued to beat down onto the casing while moving, obscuring the driver's vision.

Maintenance problems: the chain-driven valve gear proved to be expensive to maintain and subject to rapid wear, which was particularly problematic during the Post War period, as British Rail focused on availability rather than high quality maintenance. 

Leaking: leaks from the oil bath onto the wheels caused oil to splash onto the boiler lagging. Once saturated with oil, the lagging attracted coal dust and ash, which provided combustible material, and sparks from heavy braking would set the lagging on fire underneath the air-smoothed casing. The fires were also attributed to oil overflowing from axlebox lubricators onto the wheels when stationary, to be flung upwards into the boiler lagging in service. In either case, the local fire brigade would be called to put the fire out, with cold water coming into contact with the hot boiler causing stress to the casings, meaning these un-rebuilt locomotives would have warped casings, the result of a lagging fire!

All of these strengths and flaws tell a notable story about the kind of engine Rebecca may have been in real life: an engine with extremely good power and speed, but with difficulty at slow speeds and design issues that could have dangerous and rather embarrassing unintended consequences. This is a brilliant basis for a character, and it really irks me how little of all of this characterisation gold that Mattel ended up using - while it is consistent with how they treat their newer characters, it is also a real shame. Especially considering that from all of this, it is really not hard to build a genuinely interesting character that wouldn’t feel too out of place in the Railway Series or Classic series. 

Firstly, based on the high coal consumption and severe maintenance and wheelslip issues, we can suggest that Rebecca is a bit clumsy and worries about how others perceive her. Her class was large enough for this to be less apparent back on the Southern, but perhaps she was one of the worst for it, so she was teased mercilessly - and so after having moved to Sodor, she fears how the other engines will treat her. To cover for these insecurities, Rebecca acts standoffish or gruff, wanting to keep the other engines at a distance so they can’t find out about her flaws and tease her for them - already very different from her original characterisation, but far more interesting as it makes her one of the few new NWR engines to actively try and push both steam and diesel engines away. Furthermore, her excellent steaming abilities and fast speeds in service could translate into Rebecca being somewhat reckless or a speed demon, wanting to use her strengths to both hide her weaknesses and as something she enjoys. Rebecca has an air-smoothed casing, and it may help her feel the wind better at speed, like Spencer with his streamlining. Quite simply, by using her basis as a starting-point for her personality, building up character-traits from strengths and flaws of the class, we can construct an interesting and different characterisation that draws people in, similarly to how the Reverend Awdry did with his eight famous engines. Better yet, it means that once the other characters crack open this more standoffish side to Rebecca, we can still see the kind and clumsy Rebecca from the TVS, but it feels more natural and rewarding to go through a journey to get there and if it’s directed only to her close friends, while also meaning that we the audience can still see her gruff side when dealing with unknowns or characters she dislikes. 

There is also the fact that by considering her class basis, show writers can find interesting stories or take other issues with Rebecca’s class to incorporate into her personality. For example, the low-visibility created by the air-smoothed casing could translate into eyesight problems for Rebecca that she tries to hide because she fears engines would tease her for them, potentially culminating in Rebecca passing a red signal and getting into a crash. Maybe she doesn’t like fire or hates the works because of bad memories, meaning Rebecca hides any mechanical faults until they cause her to break down on the main line. 

By building her character around her class basis, we can develop an alternative personality for Rebecca that naturally stands strongly around other engines - especially as there are very few other Southern Railway engines on Sodor who could see Rebecca’s gruff and cold attitude as the defence mechanism it is. It also gives Rebecca a strong connection to Henry, who acted practically the same when he first arrived on Sodor to hide his steaming problems, making him sympathetic to Rebecca and opening the two up to a long-term arc that ends with Henry having helped Rebecca grow into the happy, cheerful and clumsy engine from the series before leaving. Her recklessness could translate into a rivalry or competition with Gordon, who is far more responsible and meticulous with his express due to his experience and the pressure that has been put on him. 

However, this is not the only way to build a better characterisation for Rebecca, the other option being to make Rebecca into a foil for other main characters. 

Part 5: Rebecca as a Foil: 

The other way to build Rebecca’s character into something that flows naturally with the other, previously introduced Steam Team members with making her more unique and interesting is to build it around the concept of the foil character. A foil character is a character who contrasts with another character, typically contrasting with the protagonist - a strong example of foil characters are Edward and Gordon, or Thomas and Diesel 10. Rebecca could quite easily fall into the position of being a strong foil character to the three big engines, more specifically James and Gordon, who are without a solid foil character to be contrasted against since Edward’s departure. In BWBA, when Nia arrived, she was considered to be closer to Thomas and Percy than Gordon or James, leaving them without a natural opposite. Rebecca has all of the strengths and weaknesses to fill this role. 

For the first option, using the personality the series gives Rebecca, we get the following scenario: Rebecca arrives on Sodor and is both an express engine and a mixed-traffic engine. When she arrives, instead of fumbling her first Express badly, she succeeds, and James and Gordon become worried about their status and jealous of her high speeds. Remember, prior to the codification of the characters into one or two jobs by CGI, James was a common replacement for Gordon on the express, and having his role as secondary express engine threatened would be a major blow to his ego. Worse yet, Rebecca likes pulling trucks, and is thus both similar but also a complete narrative opposite to the pair. Other engines like her for her kindness and helpfulness, even if it does get her in trouble when she doesn’t get her own work done on time - which Gordon and James exploit to make rude remarks about her. 

Already, Rebecca is a natural foil for Gordon and James, being similar enough for viewers to compare one to the other while also being different enough that her positive traits are highlighted against their negative ones. 

Then, Gordon could discover her hidden clumsiness and wheelslip problems, exploiting them to cause her embarrassment - something that has previously happened to James and when Rebecca is reprimanded for the resulting incident, he remembers his own struggles with wheelslip. This makes him more sympathetic to both Rebecca and the audience, and places him on a path towards apologising to Rebecca for how he spoke to her - while Gordon enjoys having the express to himself again. This could follow naturally towards an endpoint where Gordon gets his comeuppance and Rebecca is accepted into the Steam Team, having been a natural foil to both and developed close character relationships based on how she is positioned in contrast to Gordon and James. The series then progresses to seeing Rebecca act in opposition to the pair, as well as trying to one-up them, being either the protagonist or antagonist depending on who the hero of the story is. 

The second option is to use the character made for Rebecca in the previous part - the one built out of her basis and its issues - to turn Rebecca into a strong foil to Gordon and Henry, as well as potentially to Diesel or Thomas. This would begin with Rebecca arriving and acting recklessly with the express, being a speed demon where  Gordon demands professionalism due to his experience. This startles CGI Henry, who is also not a fan of recklessness and places her at odds with them but also potentially makes her interesting to James, who is himself quite reckless. Furthermore, Rebecca’s standoffish behaviour and grandstanding alienates engines like Thomas or Percy, while being very similar to how Gordon, Henry and James acted during their younger years, forcing the three to be confronted with how they used to act, reminding them of their old selves (BWBA is so obsessed with flashbacks and dream sequences, so this would be a good opportunity for them to use classic series moments to help flesh out all three and Rebecca here). 

This could build into Henry recognising the traits he used to hide his insecurities before he was rebuilt, helping to shift how the audience sees Rebecca and giving Henry an arc where he helps Rebecca learn to trust other engines and accept friendships - though notably not Gordon and James, who she sees as being the most likely to make fun of her. This helps Henry gain his classic series confidence back, giving him a boost to stand up and tell the Fat Controller that he wants to move, as well as the confidence to push back against Gordon when the big engine gets angry about the change. The series then follows Rebecca as she argues with James and Gordon, with engines taking sides depending on the episode - including  Thomas potentially absolutely hating Rebecca due to his alliance and friendship with Gordon.

Finally, Rebecca’s actions and attitude could help spur Diesel into recognising some of these negative traits in himself, finally ending the character arc that was attempted with Springtime for Diesel. 

Both of these options really focus on taking these established characters and growing them using Rebecca’s characterisation and unique position as the new big engine at Tidmouth, while also building off of Rebecca’s character strengths to make her stand out as unique too. Remember, Rebecca is the same size and strength as Gordon - the series hasn’t seen a NWR engine of comparable size to Gordon since Hiro was introduced, and he was neither an express engine nor a candidate for the Steam Team, so he was never a credible threat to Gordon. And before Hiro, the last engine of that size was Murdoch right the way back in Series 7, who never made it beyond the model series era. Rebecca has a real potential to be this threat to Gordon, being the first engine of such size introduced in almost a decade - she can pull express trains as well as Gordon while showing up James and being mixed-traffic and versatile like Henry. This is what irks me - Rebecca had everything going for her before she debuted, and got none of it. 

What is even more painful is the fact that there are an infinite number of ways to further develop and build her character or other characterisations to give her that take inspiration from the source material while still being fresh and interesting - for example, what if Rebecca’s clumsiness came from her being a static exhibit, possibly one at a children’s theme park which would explain the bright colours. She could be so kind and cheerful as a way to handle the pain of watching her siblings be scrapped - something that she could bond with Oliver over. The point is that Rebecca had and still has potential but needs a lot more effort put into her than what she got in canon. 

Part 6: Characters to Pair off with Rebecca: 

This brings me to my final core part to this long, and slightly ridiculous dissertation: who to pair Rebecca up with to best build her character and insert her into this universe while feeling natural and potentially giving them some more screen time and character dynamics outside of their usual social circles. 

For this, I decided not to look at Gordon, Henry or James, seeing as they got a lot of consideration in the previous parts, where they were core components of building up Rebecca’s character while also naturally removing Henry from the Steam Team. The following ten characters are engines who I feel would be some of the most interesting to pair up with Rebecca earlier on in the series, to help her bed into the series and give a wide range of popular or interesting characters for viewers to connect her to: 

1: Rosie: Rosie is a USATC s100, a class that worked at Southampton when Rebecca would have been in service! These two potentially have history, and even if they don’t, Rosie would be one of the first engines to realise why Rebecca is acting so standoffish and breaks through to her, seeing as she would have known the class from her younger days. Maybe they become confidants once Rosie manages to break through Rebecca’s facade? Maybe Rebecca decides she prefers Vicarstown and we go back to the Classic-era ensemble cast? The opportunities here are great, and it has the potential to give Rosie some real backstory too! 

2: Salty: Salty also worked at Southampton when Rebecca would have been in service, his class having been introduced in 1962, giving up to five years’ worth of potential overlap. Though it’s less likely the pair would have crossed paths, Salty would still know a lot about the West Country Class. He could potentially even float the idea of her getting rebuilt like a number of her siblings, which would add some real-life facts to the series! It would also be interesting to see Rebecca avoid Salty because she doesn’t want to be exposed by him - remember, she was in service at the end of BR, and really wouldn’t trust diesels based on what they did. 

3: Thomas: Thomas’ class also worked at Southampton when Rebecca would have been in service! However, Thomas would not have personally been at Southampton which means the connection is a little looser. Instead, he could have heard about them from a sibling, or maybe Stepney? Imagine Thomas being really excited to meet this new engine who he’s heard all these positive things about and then it’s this standoffish, grumpy engine who Gordon says is dangerous at speed. It would make for such an interesting dynamic and we could see the cheeky and blunt Thomas from the early series again! 

4: Oliver: These two both made it through the darkest days of BR and survived, and both are also very proud of their achievements - these being Rebecca’s speed and Oliver’s bravery - which could make a scenario where the two hype each other up, much to their own detriment. It would also be interesting to see how Toad would fit into this, seeing as Rebecca is quite reckless and Toad would be opposed to such a thing - and could create a really interesting dynamic where Oliver is forced to pick which of the two he believes during an episode. I can see Oliver being someone Rebecca trusts due to their shared experiences, and it gives Oliver some spotlight. 

5: Emily: Emily was what Rebecca is - an express engine with wheelslip issues who is considered to be one of the best engines of their time. Emily is also an engine who has some issues with CGI-era characterisation and could really do with being revitalised, so why not work with it? Emily tries to be nice and kind with Rebecca, only to keep hitting brick walls and reverting to her old, bossy ways to try and force the new engine to do what Emily wants - bonus points if this is held as being the right thing to do in that situation! It could also play into her getting her number, maybe by rescuing Rebecca from an accident she got into? 

6: Sir Handel: Sir Handel is another engine who desperately needs their characterisation revitalised, and Rebecca is a great chance! Sir Handel considers himself an express engine, and meeting Rebecca puffs him up as she regales him with tales of her speed. This plays into Sir Handel’s cockiness and he gets himself into trouble - and then he decides to get payback in whatever way possible, and we see the reverse of the situation where Sir Handel’s stories get Rebecca all fired up and she gets her own comeuppance. This would not only reintroduce Sir Handel, but also could set the foundations for Duke to return, with references to the MSR. 

7: RWS Flying Scotsman: I specify RWS Scott because I want the kinder, more humble version we got in the RWS to the version we got in the CGI era. Seriously - this engine has just been saved from scrap and given a second chance and his first action is to antagonise his only living sibling? I want him trying to be a voice of reason to Rebecca, seeing as he is uniquely placed to know the consequences of wheelslip - something he also has; as well as recklessness - Scott was the first to officially hit 100mph, so he knows a thing or two! Even more, Rebecca might look up to Scott, based on his fame, though his stories may lead to her being more reckless! 

8: BoCo: Remember I mentioned that the West Country Class caught on fire? Imagine a story with that, with BoCo (a Class 28 infamous for catching fire) as Rebecca’s foil. It could begin with BoCo backfiring and Rebecca making fun of him for it due to her disdain for the diesels who replaced her class before she suffers a similar fate when her boiler lagging catches fire and it’s BoCo who has to help her get her train home. It would be a great way for Rebecca to learn that diesels aren’t all bad, as well as giving her someone new to be friends with - and it would reintroduce BoCo! This could also help draw Rebecca down the branch to meet Bill and Ben… 

9: Molly: Overtly shy Molly and secretly shy Rebecca who covers her shyness up with aggression would make for such an interesting dynamic! I can imagine Molly gathering up all of her courage to speak to Rebecca only to be shot down (unintentionally) and then never want to talk to Rebecca again, and it’s only when Rebecca realises that the bigger engine tries to hunt Molly down - possibly with hilarious consequences. This idea would really work well if you popped in Mavis, who would want to help Molly and stand up to Rebecca. It would also be interesting to reintroduce Molly, especially with Mattel wanting more gender equality. 

10: Mike: This would be a case of grumpy, standoffish Mike versus standoffish-to-hide-insecurities Rebecca! These two would be about as productive as a house on fire. Literally! These two would naturally bump heads in the worst way possible, and it would create incredible comedy and infinite story potential. This would be even better if you added some inferiority complex on Mike’s side, based on the fact he’s never seen an engine this big before - seeing as Rebecca is the only engine of this size able to visit Arlesburgh. They would rile each other right the way up the wall and it would probably never get any better. 

To conclude, Rebecca had real potential as a character - she had an iconic basis, good timing for her introduction and the role she was aiming to fill in many ways needed to be filled; Henry’s character assassination had made him hard to watch for a long time, and moving him out of the spotlight to give writers some time to rehabilitate him was long overdue. It’s just a real massive shame that they managed to fail so badly. By failing to properly plan and develop Rebecca, Mattel created a background character that they tried to have fill a major role that she simply was not able to fill. There were many better choices in the show to take Rebecca’s role, not least of all Molly - a yellow tender engine who was shy and a bit clumsy. By neglecting to properly integrate Rebecca into the series and then giving the show writers very little personality to work with, Mattel ensured that Rebecca would be a BWBA-exclusive character, an engine who never managed to gain half of the popularity of other characters who had comparable runtimes. Engines like Murdoch, Molly and BoCo have far better legacies than Rebecca, and it comes down to how they were treated by the series. All three were introduced with something that made them unique, be it through their interactions with other characters or through their own unique characterisation. Rebecca is a grim reminder to people developing characters for stories - especially characters being added later in the series to a cast of strong, notable and even iconic characters - that these late introductions need a lot of effort and carefully designed arcs to make them viable and allow them to become embedded into the series alongside those they share the screen with. 

Rebecca is one of those characters who is enough of a blank slate that it is easy for people to project onto her. In some cases, this is useful to a character’s legacy - Fergus, Molly, and even Smudger all have been remembered far more fondly by the fanbase than their limited appearances ought to warrant, however this is mostly because they were given a strong enough personality by the show that these projections had preexisting characterisations to connect to. Rebecca was given far too little, and in redesigning her character, I feel like I’ve gained a new understanding of just how far Mattel had pushed the show prior to its cancellation. By expanding the series to include new characters from around the world while also demanding episodes with new, untested characters back on Sodor, the writing team was rushed to complete episodes with a plethora of new faces that had no substance to back them up. There was no chance for these foreign engines to become anything meaningful while Mattel demanded enough new characters to fill an entirely different series, nor was there time for many of the characters back on Sodor to develop meaningfully while the writers scrambled to try and create far too many new characters from scratch. 

And it was the characterisations that suffered for it. 

Once again, this was not an attempt to convince people to like or dislike the version of Rebecca found in BWBA, but instead look into why Rebecca as a character failed to stand up against the other Steam Team members or even many of the more notable secondary faces found in the TVS at this point in the series. This can be boiled down to comparisons to her predecessor, a lack of effort from Mattel to give Rebecca a chance to develop and the decision to use cliched characteristics to create a version of Rebecca that never was going to capture many viewers’ imaginations. This was also an attempt to redevelop Rebecca into someone that can be used by the fandom to rehabilitate her image, or at the least to point out what went wrong and what could have been done to fix it. Maybe someday Rebecca will get the redevelopment she deserved, or perhaps she will be left to the annals of Thomas history, becoming just another footnote in the ever-expanding list of characters who couldn’t stand the test of time. 

Thank you for reading.