#mentioned james hook

[lazykatie]

What could have happened AFTER the Castlecoming Ball (Part 1)

You can find

What could’ve happened at Castlecoming Week here (Part 1, Part 2, Part 3)

and

What could have happened AFTER the Castlecoming Ball here (Part 2, Part 3)

Ella walked down the halls of Merlin’s Academy with Charming. With Bridget out of sight since the Castlecoming Ball, she’s grown worried for her friend. She felt guilty that she wasn’t able to get back to Bridget that day, but she hoped that Bridget could forgive her for that.

She parted with Charming. With a small peck on his cheeks, she said, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Charming skateboarded out while Ella makes her way towards Bridget’s room, hoping to find her there.

In the dormitory, she knocks three times. “Bridget? Are you in there?” Ella called, her voice filled with concern. 

No one answered.

She really hoped that Bridget was right. She hoped that she was just experimenting with new treats to bake for her not to be seen for two days.

Feeling fidgety, she twisted the doorknob but to no avail, until an unlocking sound could be heard from the inside.

“Who is it?” Bridget asked in a low and hoarse voice.

She opened the door to see Ella. “Oh, it’s you,” Bridget muttered, her eyes avoiding Ella’s. Bridget’s hair no longer in a bun, hung limply around her face like an uncooked noodle. Her lipstick smudged across her cheeks while her eyes puffed as if all she had done was cry since the Ball.

“Bridget, what happened?” Ella asked, noticing the change. “You haven’t even changed out of your dress too?” she added, her eyebrow furrowed and eyes tight with concern.

Bridget remained silent, her head facing the floor, as Ella walked inside the room. 

Ella started to turn on the lamps, one by one. When she reached for the last lamp, she felt some shards instead. She withdrew her hand quickly as she felt a shard pierce through her skin. Blood began to flow out from the finger as the room lit up, painting the view clearly.

The room was a mess. Shattered glass littered the floor and the remnants of a broken vase scattered across the table. The crimson gown Bridget had worn was wrinkled and torn at the sleeves.

“Bridget, what happened? Ella asked, her voice filled with worry as she wrapped a tissue around her bleeding finger. Looking around, Ella saw ripped wallpaper like the room was attacked by some wolf. The room smelled like burnt treats. Or was it the scented papers? Bridget’s oven was also on the ground in a broken state. Her curtains were closed shut as if Bridget didn’t want to see any light. 

Bridget’s hollow eyes looked up to Ella. “It’s nothing,” she muttered, turning away.

Ella moved closer, gently taking Bridget’s hand. “This isn’t nothing. Please, talk to me,” she urged softly. 

Ella waited for Bridget’s response. Their breaths are all they hear and now, it’s quite deafening.

Tears slowly dropped as Bridget faced Ella. “Why do you care now?” she said, trying to hold back the tears that kept flowing. 

Bridget’s mind was in a whirlpool of conflicting emotions. Seeing Ella standing there, concern etched on her face, made her want to scream. How could Ella act like she cared now? Where was she when Bridget needed her most? The memories of the ball flashed through her mind, each one like a dagger to her heart. She had felt so alone, so utterly abandoned.

Now, after everything, Ella dared to ask what was wrong. The betrayal cut deep, deeper than she thought possible. She tried to blink away the tears, but they kept coming, fueled by the hurt that had been growing inside her since that night.

“What do you mean? I always care because you’re my best friend.” Ella said as she squeezed Bridget’s hand.

Bridget, unconvinced, shook her off and said, “It didn’t feel that way when you left yesterday. You know, when I needed you the most.”

Ella softened her gaze as she felt her heart pounded in her chest, a reminder of the weight of her guilt. “Bri, Castlecoming was two days ago. Still, I’m sorry if I left. You know I was just hiding from my step sisters. Then Charming helped me out and—” 

“Save it, El. I saw what happened. I saw you flee, holding hands with your prince,” Bridget snapped, her voice bitter. 

Ella couldn’t understand Bridget’s bitterness. She knew it was wrong for her to leave Bridget alone when she was the one who asked in the first place. But, was it also wrong for her to be living the dream? It was already done and she was sorry. She’s here now. She was ready for the consequences or at least she thought she was.

“That’s not fair, Bridget.” Ella protested, her expression pained.

”You know that my life’s been filled with nothing but misery. Charming was the best thing that happened to me,” Ella continued, her voice pleading.

“What about me Ella?!” Bridget’s voice rose, trembling with emotion. “I had the worst time of my life when Uliana turned me into a monster.”

“Bri—” Ella tried to interject.

“They humiliated me at my first dance. Cackled at me as my nose grew longer, my hands crooked, and my skin green,” Bridget recounted, her voice cracking with each word. 

Bridget couldn’t take it. Reliving that moment was already harsh enough. But, the need to retell the story from her perspective just so her ‘best friend’ could understand her was cruel. She hugged herself involuntarily as she remembered that night. The night when she sought for Ella, only for her to see her running out of the hall with Charming.

“I didn’t know—” Ella started, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Of course, you didn’t know! My so-called friend didn’t even bother to look back at me.” Bridget accused, wiping the tears that streamed down her face.

“I really didn’t know. I’m so sorry. We can go through this together. It was just one of Uliana’s stupid pranks.” Ella pleaded, her eyes welling up with tears.

Ella’s heart ached with regret. She felt small and helpless, wishing she could turn back time. Maybe if she did, she would have made Bridget happier. Happy that Bridget got to experience the Ball. Happy that they would have spent their time laughing about the stories they would’ve created that night. But no, she stood here on the brink of losing one of the important people in her life. For her, just the thought of it was unbearable, but at the same time, she knew part of it was her fault.

“No. I already went through it and you weren’t there. James was right, even salt can look like sugar.” Bridget replied, her voice cold.

“James? James Hook? Why were you with him?” Ella asked, confusion evident on her face.

“It doesn’t concern you now, does it, Ella?”

”He was there when you weren’t. He helped me see the world a bit more clearly.” Bridget added, turning her back on Ella. “You can see yourself out now.”

Ella stood there, stunned, unsure of how to approach her friend. Her breath hitched. She opens her mouth to utter something, just anything. She guessed that anything she said wouldn’t have changed Bridget’s mind. 

“What are you still doing here?” 

“I said leave!” Bridget’s voice rang in the entire room. Ella, not knowing what to do anymore, went through the door and left. 

Each step she took felt heavier than the last as if she dragged the chains of regret behind her. The door clicked shut, but the sound echoed in her mind like a final goodbye.  

Ella knew when she left that she would never see the friend she knew and loved again. Because the Bridget that she saw today had eyes that glowed red and a heart that turned black. She had found love, but in doing so, she lost a friend. She knew part of it was her fault and she would carry these guilt-weights until she took her last breath.  

~~~

A/N: WAHHHHHH! I finally finished it! I know this may not be what you imagined for the aftermath but I really need to conclude the Ella-Bridget relationship. So yeah, here it is. I would be writing the Bridget x Hook part of the aftermath in the near future. Hope you guys like it! Happy reading!!!

[saturnisaroace]

im pretty sure I got this pic from either tristan or morgan

📸 morgandudley on IG (I think it was her??)

[catgirl-valeria]

if the reason we haven’t been getting much storyline content lately (no spoken dialogue from hope or jonesy since og, getting a cinematic instead of a live event last season, every npc this season having like A Line of dialogue max, etc) is cause epic blew their budget and time on a vader chatbot. im. gonna be mad ngl

[twistedtummies2]

Sing a Yo-Ho! I’ll slaughter the swine!

Yo-Ho! Must be Fate’s design!

At last our tales will again intertwine!

Revenge, REVENGE, REVENGE is Gonna Be Mine!

Oh, it’s gonna be! Oh, it’s gonna be!

Oh, it’s gonna be mine!

Oh, it’s gonna be! Oh, it’s gonna be!

Oh, it’s gonna be MINE!

“Revenge is Gonna Be Mine,” Colin O’Donoghue

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

Initially I planned for today’s entry to be a different image, but it’s actually not finished yet: due to personal issues, the artist is taking a bit longer to complete the picture than expected. That image will be posted once it is ready, but in the meantime…here’s James Killian, posed with his inspiration, Captain Hook from “Peter Pan!”

The legendary “Shy Art Anon” did the artwork for this one. Funny enough, this was actually the first of the five images for the series to be completed, and it helped to serve as a template for the rest of the artists to use when working on their own images. I can hardly think of a better example: SAA made the official ref pic for James, so I knew they could handle him well, but I’m especially impressed with their rendering of Hook, as well as that ethereal background. As always, a stellar piece of work!

Just like our previous subject, Elias, James was actually one of the first OCs I properly wanted to make…which is ironic, since he’s the last of the five I’m featuring here in this series to make a proper written appearance, and I haven’t even done his Chapter Story yet. The reason I wanted to make James early on had nothing to do with kinks, and simply everything to do with the fact I love Disney Villains: much like the Phantom Blot, Hook has been referenced a few times in the game, and paid homage to, but there is no actual, solid, properly analogous Captain Hook CHARACTER. I honestly consider this not only surprising, but almost akin to blasphemy, as Hook is one of the most prominent of all the Disney Villains, as well as a personal major favorite of mine. So, from very early on, I felt the only thing to do was create my own version of the character.

Like Hook, James is flamboyant, theatrical, and LOUD. He’s very vain and full of himself, and has a sort of old-fashioned quality to his speech at times, calling homage to Hook’s many “hook-isms.” The most important thing I took from the Captain, however, was the way James’ ego works: Hook is an arrogant character, make no mistake, but a big part of who he is comes from how pathetic he is at the same time. Hook doesn’t just hate Peter because he cut off his hand and fed it to the crocodile: he hates Peter Pan because Pan represents everything Hook will never be, and because just about every move Peter makes emasculates and humiliates the Captain, often without Peter even really trying. Something one will note, if they watch Disney’s Hook in things where Peter is not involved, is he can actually be a genuine threat and is able to keep his cool much more easily. But once Peter is involved, Hook goes flying off the handle, and is quickly made a fool of in the process.

With James, I decided to take this idea and transform into the idea that my boi - much like Nakoda - has a very fragile sort of ego. James deliberately makes a spectacle of himself, behaving in an over-the-top manner, because he’s someone who’s always lived in the shadows of others, and has never felt fully respected or appreciated. Underneath that melodramatic demeanor, he’s actually very sad and hurt, as well as very fickle, in some ways. James can be a good sort when he wants to be, but when you put certain temptations in his path, he simply can’t be trusted, and will easily become obsessive.

This also, incidentally, applies to kinks: unlike Captain Hook, who is downright TERRIFIED of being eaten by the Crocodile or the Octopus, James is a bit more…conflicted. On the one hand, he doesn’t REALLY want to DIE…but on the other hand, the idea of himself becoming part of something “greater” than he is ends up being surprisingly irresistible. Seeing beings tower over him and getting the sensation of them lording things over him can be embarrassing, but it also makes his pulses jump. He’s both scared AND “excited” by the sensation, much in the same way I am (and my Prefect character is), although I should say James is typically much less willing. Beyond kinks, though, it’s this sort of backwards, conflicted, broken ego that informs much of who James is: he loves himself, yet he also hates himself, and that kind of mentality will always cause problems for others who get caught in the crossfire.

One last note: you’ll notice the song of choice I used for this description and the image title? While he has yet to appear in a story or art piece properly, rest assured: James does have his very own “Pan” that he loathes with all his soul, and is a major reason for why he is the way he is. His name is Matthew Satyr, and if you bring up his name around James…prepare to get an earful.

[kaythefloppa]

Reason #?? as to why Jake and Sofia should’ve crossed over;

The fact that they both know someone named ‘James’ and said Jameses being utterly dumbfounded hearing their name being called out.

[heartshapedcreaturefromcriptoon]

Me and Big Name Fandumb Straggots petitprincess1 and ayylmao.tv after I call them out on their bullshit and block them, basically...But especially petitprincess1...

Because wasn't the entirety of that movie one big transphobic rape joke basically and she thought using a tacky, "sassy" gif of that Jim Carry bullshit even back in 2020 was a serve?

And yes, this fandumb does sexualize everything but in a very Bad Form, telling, neo nazi simping way kind of way that just dries up all moistness from the cunt when the rest of y'all can't seem to keep the word "degeneracy" out of your cheato dust breathing, incel/femcel mouths even "ironically" and that's why I couldn't bare trying to recommend these shows to any of my actually filthy, fucking John Waters loving queer friends who actually know who he is and actually know how to fuck. Because some of y'all fucked up the vibe so badly, in the Bad, Bad way... And I still (somewhat) blame Ashley Nicholas and her moistphobia for "Trend Setting" all that Bad, bad taste. Still tastes like that sauceless chikn nuggit (so if vivziepop actually made coco melon for tenderqueers... Oop!) Baja Blast flavored Furry Has -Been Tears, cheato dust, transphobia, and bad eggs in here sometimes and honestly if you're not a fanartists with loved ones keeping the vibes alive I'm kind of over it... My literal, crippled hands give me every excuse to write these think pieces while I'm waiting for my fanartist to help me complete and debut my character so I can focus on creating more art for her-- but these abled-bodied nasties have no excuse to be spamming the space with clickbait and gossip blogs regurgitating Medrano's every move on social media while harassing other artists and creators to the point where it just over saturates everything else good in this fandom and I have to turn my replies and everything off because abled bodied mentally ills get so offended when you call them abled bodied mentally ill and then I get an ask insulating I'm going "anti" when the insult was directed towards an anti who was essentially trying to tip my wheelchair over like a cow and block evading and harassing me in the first place-

Oh and let's not forget that I got screamed at, block evaded, harassed some more and called "biphobic" by another alleged bi girl, all for the crime of calling her "honey" but I guess I'm just gate keeping now because no actual queer person would think using a gif from Ace Ventura was an own and I guess that's why we have ayylmao.tv as our Fandumb Overlord and V*rb*l A*e as our Fandumb Mascot because we've learned from the Voluntary Celibates for The Radio Demon how BUNDADDY Ashley Nichols taught y'all during her SMUT SALONS to be too afraid of THE MOIST to go out and Experience some ACTUAL HUMAN CUNT, COCK, AND PUSSY despite being SURROUNDED BY ALL THESE PUSSY CUNT CUNT CARTOON WOMEN AND FURFAGS AND ALL THEIR PUSSY CUNT CUNT DICKS AND VAMPIRIC HENTAI TESTICLES. DRACULA GOT REINCARNATED INTO ALUCARD GOT REINCARNATED INTO A DEER, IN A STORY WITHOUT ALL THE NAZIS, COPS, OR RAPE BECAUSE IT'S WRITTEN BY A QUEER WOMEN, AND Y'ALL LET A STRAIGHT MAN PULLING A BLEEDMAN AND SIMPING NEO NAZI GAMERS BE LIKE: "I dont see why people want to fuck this character at all! UWU" AND THEN Y'ALL LISTENED TO A PEWDIEPIE ENJOYER MAKING A CLICK BAIT FARM OF A QUEER WOMAN'S ART AND YOU LET HIM BECOME THE FACE OF "HELLAVERSE" YOUTUBE MAKING "CONTENT" ABOUT "WORSE" CLICKBAIT BROS LATELY LIKE HE'S SUPPOSED TO BE ELON MUSK KEEPING DONALD TRUMP IN CHECK AND THEN I GUESS PETITPRINCESS1, V*RB*L A*E AND THAT OTHER V-TUBER BITCH I DON'T GIVE ABOUT JUST GET TO SHARE THE ONE KANYE WEST BRAINCELL-- THERE I SAID WHAT I SAID!

But this fandom space and the louder youtube fandumb space in general just makes it feel so unsafe to be a minority sometimes and I'm actually understanding why actual queer women and femmes with queer experiences outside the fandom, including actual kink and leather spaces, just cannot bring themselves to interact with it, or take it seriously as an Iconic Piece of Queer Media, despite Medrano's General Aesthetics and Good Choices being *SO* Objectively Pussy Cunt Cunt Slay! The fucking majority of the time.

Because hey, I can admit it, Medrano's Bad Choices ARE cringe, and her scorned ex crew members and the internet personas that tend to attract her attentions are even more so... And it sort of does bring down the mood a bit. But that's honestly just the consequence of being a young Scene Queen interacting with Fur Fags and Theater Kids the majority of her career so I can give her grace and forgive her.

The song 'Loser Baby' and these shows exist the way they do for a reason and I wouldn't change who Medrano is or her journey that brought her here for the the world.

And much like with Diablo Cody, and Jennifer's Body... First of all, I will be calling out the ableism Medrano lets Rogers write into her show sometimes, AND I'm not saying that Medrano herself has any control over the people marketing her shit, including her merch, or the people spreading misinfo she's sometimes maybe forced to interact with because of the environment that this creates, including incels monopolizing and monetizing anything having to do with her shit for their own gain ... BUT! That doesn't mean that while I suffer here I can't critique Medrano's Wider Fanbase and how it got like this because I do believe this youtube and vivziepaparazzi problem, with certain types of people having nothing better to do than re-posting and commentating on her every word.... All the time... IS a type of unfortunate trickle down by product of Medrano coming of age on the Internet in what was, at the time Metrosexual Scene Kid Fur Fag Central and thus today, because of everything she went through, her and her work can tend to attract another certain kind of lackadaisical person, for lack of a better term, who just does not give a single fuck about anything unless it offends them personally just because it gets "too political UWU" and makes *Insert Political Majority Here* "Uncomfortable" and "We should just all be here to enjoy the animation and sing Jambalaya blah blah blah bc antis bullied us into having a Victim Complex so now every 'Controversy' involving race, ability, gender or sexual orientation unless they're already considered 'degenerate' by cishet white male gamer dudebro standards is Invalid and any actual queer/femme in the fandom serving much more Queerer Pussy Cunt Cunt Looks and Opinions than we're used to by talking to the rest of like we're adults who don't need everything to be a SING-ALONG despite what Jim Carry and Jeff Bezos think? Well, that person MUST just be an Anti taking it too far and out to destroy the Community We Made out of Clickbait because she's being so Mean and Ruuuuuuuude~! UWU"

And honey, I'm just here to give y'all a Reality Check and spill that tea because any queer here is gonna opinions and Tell The Truth this Cunty it's the Crippled Girl who's Felt Personally Victimized by Brandon Rogers, has absolutely no parasocial relationship complex with Medrano whatsoever and thus can admit that she does have bad taste in (most) internet personalities (besides honestly Brandon) and that Sausage Party, Medrano's general affinity for DudeBro Humor that got Vaggie actually named "Vagina" and probably honestly brought a good chunk of her "DudeBro" fandumb over to help bronify the fandom (aside from maybe the actual can of worms hiring and retiring an actual brony and outted grommer probably opened..) Dear Evan Henson, and Owl City all suck... And while we're at it, Beetlejuice The Musical and the effect it had on the girlies in that fandom sucks too, but I like how it inspired Medrano so and I like what she did with it, so I'll give her that.

But you guys? The YouTube/Twitter Clickbait Incels and Femcels who think someone gayer than you going "Hon.." is an insult? I'm gonna give you one last read for the night from an An Inspiring Drag Creature...

Almost every single male voice actor in the Hazbin pilot just got replaced with someone hotter, nicer and more charming and attractive than them and y'all with extra hotties added on to the official cast and given their chance to shine and y'all complained about that. You COMPLAINED! Some retired pilot actors even went on twitter to encourage you by complaining about feeling insecure and unattractive in comparison too ... I realize that. 💀

But then Valentino's Official Voice Actor had to show up lying shirtless in bed on Twitter like G and tell y'all to calm down because basically for a lot of reasons, the wider fandumb space ain't giving Pussy, ain't giving Cunt, Ain't Giving Slay, and we love Stella, her brother, who's fucking her or badly wants to, Valentino, Crimson, and Striker here in Adult Land because their designs are Pussy Pussy Cunt Cunt Slay and all their voice actors are fucking hot too... I don't know how to word this without repeatedly empathizing one word multiple times but fictional written incest fiction and some pre- agreed upon fictional incest role play between two consenting and unrelated adults can be fucking hot too but some of y'all with your moistphobias just aren't ready for that very adult conversation and would flip your shits if the cookie actually crumbled like that in canon!

My name is Luna Worst, apparently...

In conclusion:

Can y'all tell I finally snapped, went off my shitz and pinched The Leprechaun today and do you think he's gonna turned me into gold? Meaning a monetized clickbait "explainer" video in which he calls me "Insane" because as a Thorny Irish Rose in a fandom where fools be kissing the blarney stone, making clickbait content farms off a Fiery Latina because they have no bitches of their own, I proudly claim it's my fight as a beautiful Irish Bitch to hold an Ugly Irish Arsehole giving Jason McGuire from Dark Shadows meets Perez Hilton meets That Creepy Reading or whateverthefuck accountable and finally kill the fucking bastard if I have to! :D

Merry Sinsmas, everyone! ;)

[g3othermal3scapism]

im not in the hunger games or marauders fandoms, i dont even really know anythinf about the marauders other than the original harry potter books and some tumblr fanart, but i have read 26 chapters of the Crimson Rivers fanfic and i dont even know why

[moonstruckme]

Hello! Could I request a poly!marauders and reader where both reader and Remus are laid up in bed or on the couch with migraines together? And the other boys have to convince them to relax and call off work so they can coddle them please?

Thanks for requesting!

cw: migraines, mention of nausea and...hypothetical vomit? no one vomits but it's brought up as a possibility, reader has hair long enough to touch her neck

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

“Sirius,” James calls in distress, “they’re revolting.” 

“Mmygod,” Sirius thinks he hears Remus groan, at the same time as you beg, “Shut up.” 

Sirius rounds the corner to your sitting room to find you curled up in one corner of the sofa, your face pressed harshly into a throw pillow, while James has his finger hooked in Remus’ belt loop to prevent him from walking away. 

“Sorry, I’m sorry,” James says much more quietly, looking terribly contrite beneath Remus’ glare (which is really quite pathetic, considering Remus seems hardly to have the energy to put much bite into it). “Come on, just sit down.” 

“James,” Remus warns. 

Sirius fans out the two cold gel packs in his hand enticingly. “Can’t have one of these if you’re not lying down.” 

Remus turns his glare to Sirius, but Sirius doesn’t have James’ soft heart. After a few moments, Remus sits down. 

“There you are, lovely,” James praises as Sirius bestows Remus his cool pack, encouraging his head forward so it can lay across his nape. Remus plainly tries not to show his relief, but Sirius hears the soft breath that leaves him as he folds toward his knees. 

You’re silent as Sirius does the same for you, moving your hair away from your neck to smooth the cool pack in its place. “I have to go get ready soon,” you mumble dejectedly. 

“Unless,” Sirius says lightly, “you didn’t.” 

Remus lets out another sigh between his knees. “Time s’it?” 

James checks his watch and shoots Sirius a half-smile. They both know that the closer the two of you get to being late to work, the more persuasive their argument will become. “It’s not important,” James says, victory ringing in his tone. This makes you remove your face from its pillow to look at him suspiciously. 

“It’s not important,” Sirius agrees, “because you’re not going anywhere.” 

You bury your face again. “Yes, I am.” 

“No, you’re not.” 

“I have to.” 

“Says who?” 

“My boss.” 

“Well, I say you have to stay.” 

Sometimes, when you’re as exhausted as you are now, this firm tone will work on you. Sometimes. Unfortunately, this is unlikely to be one of those times, because Remus is also here. 

Remus, who gets up with a ridiculously pitiful old man sound, holding the cold pack to his neck as he starts toward the bedroom. James gets in front of him quickly. 

“Baby,” he says, and Sirius’ eyebrows raise. James is really pulling out the big guns; Remus has to be feeling really poorly to respond well to that one. But James has committed, his eyes big and imploring. “Please. You’ll be miserable at work.” 

“I’m going to be late,” Remus argues, though he doesn’t try to move past James. 

“Well, if that’s the case anyway, why bother?” Sirius shoots him a grin. “You won’t be late if you call out now.” 

Remus lets out a sigh, like he’s sick of making his own argument. “I can’t.” 

“Rem.” Your voice is taut with pain. It makes Sirius want to scoop you up and squeeze you, if only that wouldn’t make everything worse. “I think you should stay home. It’ll make them shut up.” 

“Are you staying?” Remus asks. 

You’re quiet. 

Sirius tsks, placing a hand on your head so he can make circles in your temple with his middle finger. “I’m not shutting up unless you both stay,” he threatens. Albeit in a soft, considerate tone. 

“You don’t even have to call out yourselves,” James tries. Remus looks to be wavering. “We’ll do it for you, since you’re not well.” 

Neither you or Remus reply. You seem to be out of arguments, but Sirius knows better than to think that’ll stop you from walking out the door anyway. He can hear you breathing deep, even breaths into your pillow. 

“Sweetheart,” he murmurs, knowing, “are you feeling sick?” 

A long breath out. “A little.” 

“Do you really want to throw up at work?” 

“Please shut up.” 

James gives one final push. “Sirius started a hot bath.” 

Remus looks ready to break first, which Sirius didn’t anticipate. He and James really deserve some sort of medal for this. Sirius holds your boyfriend’s gaze. 

“It’s probably almost full,” he confirms. “I have to go check on it in a second. You can’t go to work and have me put that minty shampoo in your hair at the same time, love.” 

Remus sighs, and Sirius knows they’ve won. “Dove,” he mumbles. You turn your head from the pillow once more, looking so terribly unwell that Sirius has to bite pack a whine. Remus says with an air of resignation, “I’ll stay if you do.” 

They all look to you. 

“We have triptans here,” James coaxes. “Cold packs. Bed. Peppermint tea.” 

Your eyes shut. “Fine.” 

It’s a testament to how well trained James and Sirius are that they don’t jump up and cheer. They do a version of that, exchanging giant smiles that make Remus look at them like he’s regretting his choice already, but James starts ushering him away before he can change his mind. 

“Let’s go have your bath,” he says. “That warm water will feel nice, yeah?” 

“I’m begging you to be quiet,” Remus replies, not unaffectionately. 

Sirius watches you watch them go. “Hey,” he says softly, waiting for you to look at him. “Can I kiss you?” 

You make a low hum of complaisance. Sirius bends, touching his lips gently (but quite fervently) to the corner of your mouth. 

“Thank you for looking after yourself,” he murmurs, “and after Remus. We’ll make it worth your while, I swear.” 

“M’not really doing anything,” you mumble in reply. “You’re the ones looking after us.” 

Sirius smiles at you, fighting hard to repress the urge to kiss you again. “Good of you to let us. What do you need, lovely? Something for your stomach? Peppermint tea?” 

You make a quiet, plaintive sound at the idea that he might get up to go and retrieve any of those things, closing your hand around his wrist. “Keep doing this, please?” 

“This?” He drills his finger into your temple more firmly. 

You melt, your grip slackening. “Yeah,” you sigh. “That.” 

Sirius’ heart swells. He gives into a tiny indulgence, pressing a kiss over his own finger. “You got it.” 

[navybrat817]

The Day After

Pairing: Roommate's Brother!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Your new roommate introduces you to her brother, but you met him last night.

Word Count: Over 2.3k

Warnings: Implied explicit sexual content, mention of hooking up, tension, humor, flirting, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes being a menace (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: Calling this AU About Last Night. No one asked for it. Hope you enjoy it anyway! @targaryenvampireslayer @tavners @starlightcrystalline he's such a menace! ❤️ Thanks to the lovely @whisperlullaby for prereading and assuring me it isn't garbage. Any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You groaned as you saw the time and wiped down the coffee table again. Rebecca Barnes, your new roommate, would be there any minute. You weren’t sure why you were so nervous. She seemed like a sweetheart and was down to earth, the perfect person to take the other bedroom and help with rent. Plus, she had already seen the place and seemed excited to be roommates.

She was doing you a favor by moving in. Your last roommate got engaged and moved in with her fiancé. While you were thrilled for her, keeping a place in this part of town was costly. You had debated downsizing, but there was nothing available. Giving up the place would’ve been tough as well since you did love your apartment and it was close to work.

“It’ll be great,” you said, taking a wipe to the table once more.

Maybe you were on a cleaning spree so your mind wouldn’t keep going back to the guy from last night. The one at the bar with the piercing blue eyes and charming smile. And the beefy frame and soft chestnut hair that framed his face. The same hair you pulled when he laid you down on his bed and kissed down your body and-

You jumped at the knock on your door. Now wasn’t the time to think about the guy who blew your back out. “Just a sec!” you called out, putting the cleaning supplies away before you straightened up your top. With a deep breath, you opened the door with a smile. “Becca, hi!”

Rebecca’s smile was enough to light up the whole place, her brown hair swept back to showcase her beautiful face. You imagined guys, and maybe girls, flocked to her, but she told you she was single and happy that way. You were single, too, minus whatever last night was. “Hi,” she said, balancing a box in her hand before you held your hands out to take it. “How are you?”

“Good. How are you?”

“Good, but I’ll be better once I get everything inside. I didn’t realize I had so many boxes,” she teased.

“I’m happy to help with whatever you need,” you promised, setting the box down by her bedroom door. “Is your car outside?”

“Actually, one of my brother’s friends let us use his truck to haul most of my stuff here,” she said, a worried look crossing her face as she looked your way. “It’s okay that they help move the stuff in, right? I’m so sorry. I don’t think I asked. The furniture is just a bit heavy.”

“It’s fine. You have nothing to apologize for. This is your place now, too,” you assured her. You remembered her saying she had an older brother. Was his name James? “And you shouldn’t have to lug up an entire bedroom by yourself.”

She breathed a sigh of relief. “Thanks. My last roommate would’ve flipped,” she smiled, heading back to the door to stick her head out. “This way, guys!”

The first man that walked in was thick with broad shoulders and a smile as golden as his hair. If you had to imagine an all-American man in the flesh, this guy was it. But the guy that followed inside after him, he was the one who made your heart stop. The one who made your knees buckle. Because you knew those blue eyes.

And as his eyes bore into yours, he smirked.

Fuck…

“This is Steve, one of my brother’s best friends and pretty much like another brother,” Rebecca said, pointing to the blonde as you blinked. “And that’s my brother, James. Everyone calls him Bucky.”

You were very much aware that people called him Bucky. It was the name he made you cry out when he was balls deep inside you the night before. There was still an ache between your legs that reminded you just how thoroughly he fucked you. It was a miracle you were able to walk by the time he was done with you.

Not only did you manage to walk out of his room, you left his place before he woke up.

To be fair, it wasn’t your plan to ditch him after he took you in just about every position you could imagine. You just had to get home, shower, and clean up a bit before Rebecca showed up. And you did leave your number for him.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Steve said as Bucky continued to stare.

The room suddenly felt very hot.

“James, could you not gawk at my new roommate like that, please?” his sister asked, waving a hand dismissively when he continued to stare at you. Thank god she spoke because your words were stuck in your throat. “I’m sorry. He does this weird staring thing sometimes, but he doesn’t mean anything by it.”

“It’s okay,” you said, clearing your throat as Bucky raised an eyebrow. Why wasn’t he saying anything? You didn’t know what to say. “It’s nice to meet you guys, too.”

Bucky’s pretty eyes darkened a shade as he continued to stare you down. You shifted slightly on your feet. Was he upset that you left or that you just pretended not to know him, like last night hadn’t happened? But if you said you knew him, how would you explain it to his sister? You could’ve just said you met at a bar and left it at that. Or blurted out everything.

But how the hell were you to know Bucky was her brother? It wasn’t like the two of you had exchanged last names. Oh, Jesus, what was wrong with you?

The corner of Bucky’s lip tugged in a smile as he said your name. How did he manage to make it sound like honey and something sinful? “Becca was telling us all about you on the drive over. Said you’re very welcoming.”

Blood rushed to your cheeks as he gauged your reaction. “That was nice of her to say,” you said, tearing your gaze away because you didn’t know what else to do. “Becca, I can go to the truck and-”

“Actually, could you show me where the bathroom is?” Bucky casually cut you off, jerking his head toward the door. “Steve, Becca, if you wanna grab a couple more boxes, I’ll be right down.”

“Sure,” Steve nodded as Rebecca narrowed her eyes.

“Don’t bother my roommate,” she warned before she left with Steve.

The brunette swung his head back toward you, a wolfish grin on his face as you gulped. “I won’t be a bother, will I?”

“Bathroom’s this way!” you said much louder than you needed to, your heart racing as you went down the hall. He was right on your tail and you wondered if he would figure out which bedroom was yours and drag you into it. The hall seemed more narrow with him in it. The wonderful smell of him took up the space, too. “Right there,” you said, not looking him in the eye as you pointed to the bathroom door.

He put an arm up to block your exit. “Nice to meet me, huh?” he asked, tsking as he shook his head. “Did I fuck you so good that you lost your memory?”

You inhaled, your cheeks hot. “Bucky!” you hissed, looking over his shoulder to make sure his sister and friend weren’t back yet.

“So, you do remember my name,” he said. The smirk that followed almost had you dropping to your knees. What sorcery did this man have over you and how could you get it to stop? “I mean, you should remember it. I did have you screaming it.”

You stuck a finger in his face as you stepped closer. “Shut the fuck up! If your sister hears, she might get upset and back out of the lease. And I don’t want her to leave. She’s nice and I can’t afford this place without a roommate.”

He gripped your wrist and maintained eye contact as he swirled his tongue around the tip of your finger. An unashamed whimper slipped past your lips that you couldn’t smother, yet you didn’t make a move to stop him. “My sister won't back out of the lease, so don’t worry about that.”

“O-Okay,” you said, trying not to let him distract you as he repeated the motion. Your nipples hardened under your top anyway. Damn him. “But if she stays, how am I supposed to explain that we…”

“Fucked until the sun came up then fucked again? Yeah, you're right. It might be really hard.” He tilted his head as his gaze went lower. Was he trying to kill you? “About as hard as when I had my cock in your sweet, wet-”

You covered his mouth to smother the rest of the statement, but you felt the vibration from the word “pussy” against your skin. He chuckled at your expression. The man was going to drive you crazy.

“Yes, yes. We fucked. Best fuck of my life, okay?” you admitted in a huff.

A genuine smile touched his lips as he lowered your hand. Not a smirk or smug smile, but something lighter like when the two of you chatted over a drink. A smile that made your knees weak. “I was the best fuck of your life?”

You shook your head. You shouldn’t have said that. “That isn’t the point, but I do want to point out that I don’t make it a habit of hooking up with random guys,” you said, hoping that would be the end of it.

Amusement filled his eyes. “I know. You told me that when I brought you home and I believed you,” he reminded you, your breath hitching when he leaned in close. “But you still begged me to fuck you raw. Or did you ‘forget’ that, too?”

Electricity crackled between the two of you slowly exhaled. “I didn’t forget,” you breathed, your tongue darting out to touch your lip. It almost touched his.

How could you ever forget how right it felt when he filled you up?

“Yeah? Then were you embarrassed that you went home with me?” he asked, his voice quieter than before as he took your hand in his. His thumb moved over your skin as your pulse quickened again. “Is that why you left this morning? Or acted like we hadn’t met?”

Your gaze softened. God, did you hurt his feelings? You hadn’t meant to. “No, I’m not embarrassed that I went home with you. Not at all,” you promised. Bucky was like a god and you were a mere mortal that he somehow chose to bless with his presence. “I’m sorry I left. I only did that because I had to get back here.”

“I could’ve given you a ride. Well, another ride,” he said, brushing his fingers along your cheek, his voice still not back to normal yet. “I’m a gentleman like that.”

“I didn’t want to wake you, but I did leave my number,” you said, hoping that would at least soothe the unintended wound. “And I’m not at all pointing fingers, but you didn’t exactly jump to tell your sister we had met either when you walked in.”

He shrugged and looked over his shoulder. “She’ll be back any minute. Let’s tell her.”

“Tell her what?” You asked. The two of you hooked up. There was no label or relationship yet. “We did a lot of things that I don't think she needs to hear about.”

The smile morphed back to the smirk that was getting under your skin in the best way. “Then come to my place so she can't hear the things we’ll do to each other. You know I have a great bed.”

You smiled and considered it for a moment. The handsome menace was single and so were you. Would it be so bad to go with him again? Yes. You couldn’t ditch your new roommate to hop into her brother’s bed, especially on the day she was moving in.

With a shake of your head, you backed away. “You’re unbelievable,” you replied, almost giving in when he pouted. That look probably got him whatever he wanted with most people. “And I’m not going back to your place today.”

“Why not? Like you said, you left me your number,” he said, making a show of holding up his phone. “You obviously wanted to, at the very least, talk to me again.”

“Look, Bucky, can we talk about this later? Please? Your sister’s moving in today. Let’s focus on that.”

His shoulders slumped, but he recovered in the blink of an eye. “Okay, you’re right. But you promise we’ll talk? Because I haven’t stopped thinking about last night.”

You bit your lip. Yeah, you wanted to talk to him again and it warmed your heart that he seemed interested in talking to you, too. “I haven’t stopped thinking about it either,” you told him. But you couldn’t dwell on that when you heard footsteps approaching. “I promise we’ll talk later and figure out whatever this is.”

That appeased him for now since he dropped his arm. “Later then.”

“James! Are you done going to the bathroom? I thought you were going to help?” Rebecca’s voice rang out. “Oh, God, you’re bothering her, aren’t you?”

You giggled as you ducked past him. “He isn’t bothering me.”

“But I am offering to order dinner for all of us if she doesn’t mind the company after we bring the rest of the stuff up. Maybe we can all watch a movie, too,” Bucky said from behind you, smiling when you looked over your shoulder with an exasperated gaze. “What do you say?”

You had to smile back because you knew you’d say “yes” before Steve brought the next box in.

And things were about to get a lot more interesting in your life since Bucky Barnes seemed determined to continue whatever had transpired the night before.

Neighbor!Bucky level of being a menace. 😂 I also like to imagine this is a version of Stud and Smartie in another world had she lived with his sister instead. ❤️‍🔥 How long before Becca finds out? What shenanigans will these two get up to? Do you lovelies want to see the night before? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[pretty-little-mind33]

James Potter x fem!girlfriend!reader

Summary: When your long-term boyfriend is slipped a love potion—he loses his memory of you.

Genre: Angsty Fluff (happy ending)

Warnings: intense swearing, violence, being drugged/spiking someone's drink, mentions of blood, vomiting, crying, a suggestive joke, James kinda has light trauma

~ again—to the kind anon that had this idea—thank you! ~

JAMES POTTER MASTERLIST

Everyone knew it was you and James. It has always been you and James. Ever since the third term of your second year when he'd stolen you an absurd amount of chocolates and candies from Honeydukes because you had failed an exam and were sobbing in your dorm, you knew he had you hooked around his pinky. Luckily, you had him wrapped around yours just as well.

He was yours as you were his. 

It didn't worry you that you hadn't seen your boyfriend all day because N.E.W.T's were coming up and as much as he pretends not to study or care, you've never met someone more desperate for success.

James had even left you a little note signed "only yours" telling you he'd be in the library today, so you used this time to spent the day with the girls instead. 

However, you didn't expect to see what you did when you walked into the Great Hall that evening.

Remus, Sirius, and Peter look just as dumbfounded as you when James stands from his usual seat, his arms outstretching towards another girl.

Your smile falters and you freeze up, your stomach sinking as his hands find the girl's waist and he spins her around.

"What the fuck?" Marlene mutters from next to you, her arms crossed. 

"Who is that?" Mary asks, unhooking her arm from Lily's as she sympathetically touches your shoulder. You blink, unable to look away from whatever nightmare is happening.

James would never cheat on you—especially in public like this.

Never.

"Amerie something, she's in my Potions class," Marlene whispers but her gaze is hard.

James's grin is wide and the girl—Amerie apparently—holds him closer. She's beaming as her manicured hands finds his cheeks and your entire world shatters when she presses her lips to his. James leans into her kiss, one hand at her waist while the other runs in her dark curls. 

Marlene breaks at the same time as Sirius does and they march up to the couple. You're stunned, your eyes watering as you replay how your beloved boyfriend kissed another girl in front of everyone. Including you. 

James would never cheat on you—right?

Lily takes your hand and guides you towards where everyone had gathered. Marlene is being held back by Mary, but she's furious as she screams at James and Amerie. Sirius stands next to James, his arms crossed as he stares at his best friend.

When his gaze flickers to you all calm crumbles. "James," Sirius says, interrupting Marlene's shrieks, as he sounds unusually serious, "This is wrong. What the bloody hell is wrong with you?"

James has never looked this confused in his life. "What are you talking about, Pads?" he asks innocently, his eyes scanning all his friends and their upset expressions.

They skim over you as if you were nothing to him— as if he hadn't held you close to his heart just yesterday and whispered how much he loved you into your hair. 

Amerie leans into James, her hand on his chest, and even Remus scoffs.

"You can't be serious, James?" Remus says. He stands and puts his hand on your other shoulder as Lily holds your other arm. He stands tall and looks stern, clearly unamused by whatever sick joke he thinks his best friend is playing. 

James's eyes widen but even Peter squeaks, "You have a girlfriend," as if to remind James.

"I know!!" James exclaims and turns to Amerie as he smiles like a love-sick fool. You feel like you're going to vomit all over your uniform. "Aren't I allowed to kiss my lovely girlfriend?" 

 Chaos ensues as Amerie holds James closer, her icy-blue eyes staring into yours with venom and malice as Marlene lunges for the two of them.

Marlene is pulled away by Mary and Lily and Sirius and Remus speak up with confusion as they jumble out accusations and disbelief.

You stand there, frozen, as your boyfriend looks right through you.

"She is your girlfriend, you dimwit!" Lily shouts and points to you. "Not this minger," Marlene adds with a hiss at Amerie, eyes dark. 

James finally looks at you and your breath hitches when you see the look in his eyes. There is no remorse or shame, just a blank expression as he looks you over.

"Who?" he asks as he turns to his friends with a genuine look of confusion on his face. His question brings silence to the group and you feel warm tears brim in your eyes.

Some part of you screams at you that the confusion is real. You know James and you know how he lies. But his voice rings in your ears as pain caves in your chest and you turn, breaking into an embarrassing jog as you run away. 

James would never cheat on you—right?

Lies. 

* * *

A few hours later, when Lily comes into the dorm with news that James is in the Hospital Wing, you don't want to care but you do. Just the mention of James in pain hurts you and Lily doesn't even have to convince you to come see him. 

You walk into the room and your eyes instantly widen. Dumbledore and Amerie stand in one corner. Amerie's eyes are bloodshot and she's pleading with Dumbledore—who looks absolutely furious.

Lily pulls you to the main dilemma and you see James sitting up in a bed, a bowl in his lap as he's encouraged to vomit. He's surrounded by Sirius, Remus, Peter, and Madame Pomfrey. 

Remus sees you and Lily and he walks up to you. 

"Is he okay?" you ask, your voice small and hoarse from your crying.

"Love potion," Remus doesn't waste time as he glances at Amerie in the corner, his jaw clenched, "she slipped it in his drink when we went to lunch. I lost him this afternoon after that but I thought he'd gone to find you. It's strong, well made, but Madame Pomfrey is convinced she can reverse the spell it has on him."

You let out a shaky breath, shoulders relaxing as you take in his words. A love potion? It had all been fake.

You turn to look at Amerie and anger swims through you. She'd drugged your boyfriend and taken him from you. You clench your fist.

If she wasn't with Dumbledore, you'd punch her. 

"But Y/n," Remus interrupts your violent fantasies and Lily takes your hand. Lily clearly knows the news Remus is about to break and it doesn't sound good. "The reason he didn't remember you is that the potions—well he was already in love with you so the potion messed up that chemistry and it was so strong it reversed all those emotions to Amerie. Erased any memory of you completely."

You feel like you can't breathe. 

"Madame Pomfrey doesn't think she can fully reverse his memory loss," Lily whispers and tightens her grip on your hand, "Obviously, he won't be in love with Amerie anymore but—we don't think he'll remember you either." 

You can barely hear her. Your eyes water as your eyes glaze over and you look behind Remus at James. Your James, who is puking his guts out and who doesn't have a clue who you are. He has no more memories of you. No more midnight secrets or scandalous touches. No more sweet confessions or fleeting arguments. Nothing.

And it's all her fault. 

You storm up to Amerie, ignoring the Headmaster's presence, as you see red. You grab her by the shoulder and punch her in the nose.

The sound resounds around the room as she falls back, a broken cry leaving her mouth as she holds her nose. Blood runs down her mouth and chin, her tears mixing with the crimson liquid as nurses rush to her. 

Your voice is unemotional when you snarl, "Stay away from him, you psycho cunt."

* * *

You sit in the common room, bandaging your bruised knuckles, as you let your tears fall freely. Your heart feels broken and crushed into absolutely nothing.

You don't even care about the detention Dumbledore was basically forced to assign you. "Violence, no matter how deserved, is never the answer," he had said and perhaps he had a point because breaking Amerie's nose didn't really make you feel any better.

She'd still taken your heart away from you. 

All you want is to reverse time and prevent James from leaving so early in the morning and slipping through your fingers. You hate yourself for not finding him in the library that afternoon. You should have studied with him—maybe then you could have prevented this. 

You unclench your fist and stare at James's crumbled note from a few hours earlier. 

Early morning for Quidditch then I'll be in the library studying. You can always join me, lovie, or go to Hogsmeade with the girls, I know they miss you. I can't always be selfish and have you all to myself, can I? 

I love you, my darling. 

Only yours,  

J

You choke on another sob and you resist the need to scream. 

"Hi," a familiar voice suddenly whispers from above you and you look up. Color has returned to James's cheeks and he's standing in front of you. He's so familiar and so different.

He doesn't look at you the same and you want to cry harder. He looks down at the note in your hand and holds out his hand when he sees a glimpse of his own chicken scratch. 

You hand it to him without a word, leaning back on the couch as you wipe your tears with your palms. You shut your eyes, feeling the cushions dip as James sits next to you and you can feel the tension in the air. You peek at him as he shakes the note and says, "So, this is real, hm? It's not some messed up nightmare? I- I don't even remember writing this. I remember this morning but—you aren't in the memory," his voice sounds shaky. 

"It's okay," you whisper, unable to say much more or you'll cry. 

James turns to you and shakes his head. "No. It isn't okay. I want to remember you," he whispers and takes your hand.

Your head snaps up, eyes widening at the sudden warmth of his touch. James puts the paper in your palm and closes it, squeezing your hand, "I obviously loved you a lot, and I think you loved me too—"

"Love," you whisper, looking him in the eyes, "I haven't stopped."

James makes a pained grimace and his hand loosens around yours. "I'm so sorry. I wish I could remember. I wish this never happened. I know I don't know you anymore or well, my brain doesn't know you but I still can't stand you being hurt because of this," he sighs, "Sirius told me everything. I have so many pictures of us in my room—my sheets smell like your perfume—I– I wish I could remember," he sounds so lost and your heart breaks.

You can't help yourself. You cup his cheek and lean your forehead onto his like you'd done a thousand times over the last years. James doesn't pull away. Instead he leans into you, as if your touch sparked a distant muscle memory.

"It's okay. It's not your fault. I-" you pause and then say, "I can help you remember, if you want?"

James doesn't hesitate and he nods, his breath unsteady, "I do. I don't understand why but my heart, well it misses you. I want to understand why." 

Your heart flutters at his words and you smile. You pull away and smile at him. His smile is weak and you know him all too well to let that slide. "What's wrong, James?" you ask and when his eyes shift, you can tell he's feeling guilty. 

"I'm sorry you lost your boyfriend. You didn't deserve that."

You sigh, "It's not your fault, okay?" you look him in the eyes and wait until he nods solemnly. "If we're meant to be, we'll figure this out, yeah?"

"Yeah," James whispers in agreement. 

* * * Six Months Later * * *

The snow falls around you as you and your friend return from The Three Broomsticks one Sunday evening. Sirius and Remus walk much faster than you and James as Sirius rambles wildly about this new muggle band Remus helped him discover, and Peter loiters behind you all as he hurries to finish reading his Transfiguration book due Monday morning—he seems quite discouraged considering the snow keeps ruining his pages. 

You are snuggled up against James, his arm wrapped around your shoulder as he adjusts your scarf and presses a kiss to your head. You sigh, continuing your conversation about how very clearly chocolate is the superior ice cream flavor, and James just listens even though he has no clue why you're talking about ice cream in the dead of winter. 

Suddenly, your voice dies down and you tense when you see who's walking towards you. She's with three of her best friends—snotty Ravenclaws with egos larger than their brains—and you feel sick as all those horrible feelings come bubbling up again.

Amerie had been suspended for six months after what she had done to James and while you and your friends insisted she be expelled, your outburst of violence had inevitably lightened her sentence.

Dumbledore didn't want a scandal on his hands and Amerie's parents were well off—surprisingly more so than the Potters. 

James senses your tension and he looks up too, his stomach sinking. Amerie is staring at you both and her friends are whispering. You look between her and James, sensing how uncomfortable he is with her presence and anger boils inside you. 

Six months. Six months of peace and time you had to rebuild your relationship with him. Six months you spent taking him to all your favorite places, reminding him of all those secrets he had already earned, and telling him stories he should remember.

Six months to catch up on six years, all because of her. 

You feel James's gloved hand find yours and he squeezes it, pressing his lips into your hair near your ear and he murmurs, "Ignore her, my love." His voice sounds a little strained and you look at him, the warmth of his hazel eyes calming you. 

You nod and press a kiss to his lips. You can feel Amerie's eyes on you as you pass but you just walk faster. Once she and her friends are behind you, you squeeze James's hand too. "Are you okay?" you whisper. 

James had been very open with you about how much what had happened scared him and still does. There were times he remembered snippets of you from before, but mostly nothing, and that scares him. I never want to lose you again, he had said three months into the six and you knew he meant it. 

When James Potter loved, he loved hard, and it became very obvious his feelings for you had returned even stronger than they had been. 

"Yeah," he whispers, his voice small. 

You pause, turning around and taking his cheeks in your hands, encouraging him to look at you. "Baby, it's okay if it made you feel uncomfortable to see her. It's normal," you say, kissing his forehead and leaning against it. 

James holds you close and kisses the crook of your neck, which causes you to giggle. 

"I love you," he mumbles and you grin.

"I love you," you say and kiss his lips again.

James runs a hand in your hair and sighs, lifting his head and watching Amerie and her friends disappear down the road. "As much as I hate her for what she did, I am sort of grateful," he whispers. 

"Oh?" I ask, caressing his cheek lovingly. 

"Mmhm—it was an absolute pleasure falling in love with you all over again," James says sincerely and your heart flutters at his words. 

You laugh and ruffle his messy hair. "You're such a dork," you chuckle. 

James laughs now too, "It's true!" 

Suddenly, you shriek lightly when you feel cold snow glide down your neck from inside your scarf. You and James spin around at the same time, catching Sirius as he makes another snowball and barks out a laugh, "Ooops."

Sirius smirks and as if on cue, James bends over and pats down his own snowball to throw at Sirius in your defense. 

"Keep your grubby snowballs away from my girl, Pads," James shouts in between his laughter as he runs after his best friend. You hear Sirius mumble something that sounds like, "Ooh, kinky," before James shoves snow into his mouth. 

You just smile, your heart feeling completely full.

[thestarkinternship]

10 Minutes

Bucky Barnes x Female Reader: One Shot (Smut)

Summary: Bucky is a little desperate for some alone time during one of Stark's parties, and ten minutes is all he needs.

Word Count: 2.2k (no mention of Y/N)

Warnings: Profanity, drinking, unprotected sex, praise, oral (male receiving), slight exhibitionism (bathroom at a party), MINORS DNI!

A/N: I kinda took a break from writing because I had a lot of unfinished fics, but I'm slowly starting to get back into it. And thank you for 300 followers on here! I can't believe there's that many people of you who actually like my writing :)

Masterlist

-

“That’s gotta be what, your sixth drink?” You giggled, watching as Bucky polished off another glass, “don’t you wanna slow it down a little?”

With a smirk, he set the empty crystal on the countertop. “Worried I’ll have too much and do something to embarrass you, sweetheart?”

“You could never embarrass me, James,” you rolled your eyes, “and you also can’t get drunk.”

“S’not gonna stop me from trying,” he grinned, “now come here..”

Wrapping his arm around your waist, he pulled you into his side before you could give an answer. Not that you minded – you didn’t need an excuse to be as close to him as possible. You nestled your head in the crook of his neck, breathing in the heavy aftershave that he wore. It was your favourite scent. The musk from it mixed with the spice of the whiskey on his breath as it fanned across your cheeks. It was intoxication in the best way possible, superseding the several glasses of liquor that you’d consumed yourself.

“There is something else, if you think you can handle it.”

In your own little bubble, it was easy to forget that the two of you weren’t alone. Breaking your gaze away from Bucky, you saw one of your teammates making his way over to you with a delicately engraved bottle in his large hand.

“Hi Thor,” you smiled politely, “what is that?”

He held the bottle up proudly. “Asgardian liquor, the finest brewed there. It puts everything here on Midgard to shame.”

“I bet.” You chuckled.

“I’ll take that as a challenge.” Bucky grinned, stepping away from you momentarily to join Thor and some of the others in a round.

You folded your arms across your chest as you shook your head. The super soldier serum might stop his body from reacting to alcohol in the typical way, but it did have a particular effect on Bucky. You couldn’t help but notice how he always seemed to get that little bit more handsy with you. Maybe it was a placebo effect, or maybe that was just an excuse to keep you close to his wandering hands.

Either way, barely twenty minutes had passed before your observation was proven true.

Your shoulder leaned against the back wall as you watched Steve and Tony play pool when Bucky joined you.

“Where’ve you been?” he murmured, “I was looking for you.”

His metal hand drifted up your side, tracing the hem of your shirt and slipping underneath to graze your hip. The metal raised goosebumps on your warm skin, and you shivered further back into his arms.

“Bucky, stop… what if someone sees?” You whispered.

Bucky didn’t ease up, rubbing soft circles on your hip as he drew you in closer. “It’s okay, nobody’s looking at us.”

You glanced around. The loud music masked your hushed whispers, and the addition of Thor’s Asgardian liquor had worked wonders on the team of superheroes. With all of their defences down, no one had noticed the way the pair of you had sidled off to the side.

“We shouldn’t risk it.” You whispered, reaching for his hand and stopping it in its tracks.

“Let’s get out of here, just for a little bit,” he leaned in, pressing his lips to your jaw. The gentle ghost of his breathy murmurs in your ear sent your heart racing, “ten minutes, that’s all I need.”

“Are you really suggesting that we hook up in the middle of the party?” Your head tilted in a mixture of curiosity and surprise.

“Why not?” Bucky pouted. His lips looked so damn kissable when he did that. The thought of giving in, tugging his bottom lip between your teeth in a frantic need to satisfy the urge that you were starting to feel right now was starting to not seem like such a bad idea.

“Because…” Your voice trailed off in search of a compelling reason. Even the slightly hint of doubt would signal a dead giveaway to Bucky that you were more than willing to give in. And the worst part of it was the stupid grin on his face that told you he knew this too.

“Because?” He taunted, his smirk growing wider.

“Because…” The agitation in your voice grew as you struggled.

Bucky chuckled darkly, letting his right hand meet his other at your waist. He turned you slightly, until your back was against his chest. Grip tightening, he pulled your hips back into his. Pressed flush against him, you became all too aware of the way his tight, muscular body felt against yours. And that wasn’t the only thing.

“Bucky, are you-“

“Painfully.” He whispered, leaving another soft kiss just below your ear. Your head fell back to rest against his shoulder. Lips parting, a quiet whimper escaped from them. Bucky  tucked a curl behind your ear to lean in better, “What was that that I just heard, hm? You can resist all you like, doll. But your body’s betraying you.”

He was right of course, but you bit your bottom lip anyway in an attempt to prevent yourself from letting another sound slip. The more you tried to hide your growing desires, the more Bucky persisted. His hand slid down your hip to the hem of your skirt. He played with the material, gently grazing his fingers across the back of your thigh that was now exposed to him. Instinctively, your legs clenched as he dared to venture higher.

Bucky chuckled under his breath. “Bite your lip all you want. But what are you gonna do when you start to soak through your underwear and all over that pretty outfit of yours?”

Your face burned red as your gaze immediately fell downwards. Searching the front of your dress as discreetly as you could, your shoulders relaxed when you found that you hadn’t. But your reaction alone was enough to let Bucky know that you considered it a real possibility.

“Did I have you worried there for a second?” he mocked, “You know I’m right. Come on… ten minutes.”

“Ten minutes.” You said through gritted teeth.

“Yes ma’am.” He smirked, gripping your hand and pulling you out of the room.

It was a wonder that you made it to the bathroom at all. His hands were everywhere. Running through your hair, on your waist, cupping your cheek. But yours were the same, only pulling away just long enough to fumble with the bathroom door. It pushed open, and you both crashed through.

With a hand on his chest, you pushed him back to lean on the door. His eyes widened in at your sudden control, but who was he to stop you? Ripping the hand towel down off the rail by the sink, he dropped it to the floor to cushion you as you sank to your knees in front of him. You toyed with the zipper of his jeans, slowly pulling them and his boxers down in one as you pressed soft kisses to each inch of his bare skin that you exposed.

Bucky let out a tormented groan from the back of his throat as your tongue teased up to the head of his cock. He looked down at you and nearly buckled at the sight. Your hand gripping his thigh, hair messy and lipstick smudged. He watched your wet lips twist into a soft smirk that was so close to wrapping around him.

“When you said painfully, I had no idea this is what I’d done to you.” You cooed, innocently sliding your palm up and down his length.

Bucky hissed at the sensation and reached out to tilt your face up to look at him. His fingers were firm on your cheeks. “We’re down to nine minutes. You gonna keep talking with that sweet mouth, doll, or do you want to put it to good use?”

He didn’t have to ask twice. His tip grazed the back of your throat in one smooth motion. But you didn’t let it rest. You moved your head back and forth, letting your tongue trace over every vein. Bucky’s hand slid up from your jaw to cup your cheek, pulling you further around him as he met your movements with shallow thrusts. His view of you faded as his eyes squeezed shut, revelling in the overwhelming pleasure you were bringing him. The two of you might’ve set a time limit on this brief rendezvous but fuck he could let you go on like this forever.

Head falling back against the door with a soft thud, he growled. The animalistic sound ripped through his gritted teeth as he tugged your head back and off him. Pre cum lingered on your lips as you licked them clean.

Reaching for your hands he helped you to your feet and wasted no time in pressing his lips to yours. He walked you backwards until your bumped into the sink. Reaching for your thighs, he lifted you up to rest on the countertop. Your skirt slipped and bunched up around your waist as you wrapped your legs around his waist. He leaned in, nudging himself between your legs. Gentle whines slipped out from your trembling lips as he brushed over your wetness.

“Bucky��” You begged softly.

“I know, baby, I know,” he murmured, sliding your underwear over to one side, “seven minutes.”

Bucky pushed his hips forward to meet yours, burying himself completely in you. His head dropped to the crook of your shoulder and his lips met your neck. Your arms curled around his broad back, scrunching up the material of his shirt as you clung desperately to him. Soft grunts from him reverberated up into your ear as he pulled out of you only to get sucked right back in by your tight cunt. With one hand on your hip and the other on the edge of the sink, he kept you in position to take it all. Every stroke inside of you had you clenching down around him. His knuckles turned white as his fingertips pressed harder into your skin with each sharp thrust.

“Such a good girl, letting me fuck you with all our friends in the next room,” he muttered between delicate nips at the skin just below your ear, “and you had the nerve to act like you didn’t want this just as much as I did.”

Your hands moved up through his hair and down to the sides of his face as you leaned in, lips met his in a needy fashion. The kiss that followed was all-consuming, swallowing any quiet moans that might give the pair of you away. But shallow breaths slipped out here and there as Bucky rolled his tongue over yours in passionate frenzy.

He pulled on your hip until your body slipped closer to the edge of the sink, and you let out a small gasp. As Bucky’s lips parted from yours, he smirked at the fucked-out haze that glazed over your eyes as his cock rutted up deeper inside of you. As he quickened the twitch of his hips, your thighs tightened around his waist.

“Keep that up, and I won’t be able to pull out, doll.” He grunted softly.

Your brows furrowed as your head leaned back in a wave of pleasure. You weren’t listening to a damn word he was saying right now. Bucky’s hand left your hip briefly to tilt your head back to him.

“Is that what you want? Want me to fill you up and fuck it back into you hard enough that it doesn’t leak out for everyone to see?”

Too out of it to verbally respond, your thighs gave him a light squeeze and answered for you. Bucky’s hand let go of your face and reaffirmed its position on your hip as he then set a ruthless pace. Your head slipped forwards to rest on his shoulder. Burying your face in the crook of his collarbone, your moans vibrated against his throat, driving him crazy. You let your body go limp in his hands as he worked to bring you both a release that the pair of you desperately craved.

Two more thrusts was all it took to bring you both over that delicious edge. His metal hand nearly snapped a porcelain chunk out of the counter with how hard he was gripping it when he came. But you were only the same, with your thighs shaking and breathing heavy. You fluttered around him with every beat of your heart, squeezing every drop of come out of his cock that he had to give you. He lazily rocked his hips a couple more times, coating every inch inside of you.

Bucky’s hands released your body from his tight grip as he gently brushed strand of messy hair out of your face, but he kept himself seated.

“You can’t tell me that wasn’t worth it.” He breathed.

Your pink cheeks pinched into a soft smile. “Maybe it was.”

“Maybe, huh?” He raised an eyebrow, not hesitating to lean into your neck.

“What are you doing?” You giggled as you felt his gentle kisses.

“What? I’ve still got one minute left.” He grinned playfully, trailing kisses up your cheek now as well.

“Bucky.” You whined, feeling his cock teasingly plunge deeper inside of you. Your sensitive body could barely handle any more.

“Fine,” he smirked, and slowly eased himself out of you, “but when this party’s over, I’m done holding back.”

[lazykatie]

What could have happened AFTER the Castlecoming Ball (Part 2)

You can find

What could’ve happened at Castlecoming Week here (Part 1, Part 2, Part 3)

and

What could have happened AFTER the Castlecoming Ball here (Part 1, Part 3)

Ella leaned against Bridget’s door, her heart racing as she tried to process everything that’s happened. The weight of her friend’s pain pressed heavily on her chest. Slowly her back slid down the door until she found herself sitting on the cold floor of the dormitory hallway. She was supposed to be back home by now, but now is not really the time for her to worry about her stepmother. She needed to make things right with Bridget. 

With a deep breath, Ella prepared herself. She couldn’t afford to wallow in guilt; she needed to act. She needed to get her hands dirty. She needed to jump headfirst into this mess, the chaos she had inadvertently triggered. She needed to confront Uliana. 

Ella made her way to Black Lagoon, the air thick with an eerie mist that swirled and enveloped her like a dark cloak. Each step felt heavier as she walked on the jagged rocks, the sounds of water lapping against the shore echoing ominously in the silence.

“ULIANA!” she shouted, her voice cutting through the stillness. “ULIANA! SHOW YOURSELF!”

As if in response, a strange light began to glow from the depths of murky waters. A giant angler fish emerged, its bioluminescent lure casting an otherworldly glow across the lagoon. The fish’s enormous form seemed to part the water, revealing a stone path that led directly to its mouth.

Ella hesitated for a moment, the sight both mesmerizing and terrifying. Memories of Bridget’s tear-streaked face flashed in her mind—the pain, the betrayal in her eyes. She couldn’t let that be the last image she had of her friend. No, she owed it to Bridget to make things right. She prepared herself, and her resolve hardened. She couldn’t turn back now.

The fish opened its massive mouth, and Uliana emerged from its depths, her silhouette framed by the shimmering light as her crew followed her.

“How dare you, a mere peasant, call for me,” Ulaina sneered, her voice dripping with disdain.

Ella squared her shoulders, refusing to be intimidated. “Give it to me. The spellbook. The cursed item. Just give me what you used on Bridget. Do it while I’m asking nicely.”

“Easy, lass. It’s not like you can do anything about it.” Hook interjected, his tone dismissive.

“Don’t get me started with you, Hook. I’ll deal with you later,” Ella shot back, her anger flaring. Her fist clenched at her sides, and she could feel her pulse quicken as the heat of her frustration surged through her.

Uliana cackled, a sound that sent shivers down Ella’s spine. “If I don’t give it to you, what are you gonna do about it?”

“On second thought, Morgie darling, fetch the cookbook,” Uliana commanded. Morgie obediently retrieved it, her tentacles writhing with excitement.

“Why don’t you return this to Principal Merlin’s office, since you’re quite eager to get your hands on it?” Uliana tossed the book towards Ella, who barely caught it, her heart racing.

Ella opened the book and flipped through the pages, desperation clawing at her insides. She scanned each spell, searching for the one that had cursed Bridget. Finally, she found it, but her heart sank as she read the description. She can’t understand it. The spell only changed a person's appearance—nothing about personality or anything internal. 

Ella’s mind raced. This didn’t make sense. Bridget had always been the sweetest, most forgiving person she knew, never holding grudges, even when others mocked her for being too nice. She remembered the times when Bridget would laugh off insults with a lighthearted joke or offer treats to someone who wronged her. Bridget always said, “There’s good in everyone” or “You’ll always get more with sugar than salt.” This newfound anger, this darkness—it was so unlike her.  

Did she really mess it up? But Bridget wasn’t a resentful person before. Was it really just her fault? No, there must be something else. There had to be something more at play, something beyond the simple spell described in the book.

As the VK began to head back into their hideout, Ella murmured, “Where’s the rest of it?”

“Huh? The rest of what?” Morgie piped in, his tone a cutesy mocking one. 

“Where’s the rest of the spell?” She yelled out frantically, heaving loudly as her heart pumped fast.

“There’s nothing else. That’s all you need to bring back that desperate girl to her original form.” Uliana said, her voice laced with mockery.

“This can’t be! She’s already in her human form. You must’ve done something that messed with her head. She’s never mad at me like this!” Ella protested, desperation creeping into her voice.

Uliana turned to her crew, a sour expression crossing her face as she sensed betrayal in the air. She narrowed her eyes, scanning each member with suspicion. Could it be one of them? she thought. Loyalty is a fragile thing, easily swayed by fear or greed. She’s seen it before—those who claim to be allies, only to stab them in the back when it suits them. But she won’t let that happen again. The memory of her past betrayals flickered in her mind, fueling her resolve. They should know by now that crossing me has consequences. 

She then fixed her gaze back on Ella, a smirk playing on her lips, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, peasant. Are you sure it’s not you running off with your prince that messed with her head?”

The crew erupted into mocking laughter, their jeers echoing around the lagoon like a chorus of torment. Ella felt her cheeks flush with anger and humiliation, but she stood her ground. This was about Bridget, not her. 

“Enough!” Ella shouted, her voice steady despite the fear swirling inside her. “You think this is a game? You think you can just toy with people’s lives and get away with it?”

Uliana’s laughter faded, replaced by a cold glare. “Mind you, we’re not here to play games, but to rule.”

She turned back to enter the angler fish while the rest of her crew followed her. “You’ve wasted enough of our time.” 

She blew her shell necklace. In response, their giant angler fish hideout’s mouth started to close. “Good luck with the giant eels,” Uliana said to Ella as the rocks descended with the hideout.

Ella narrowly escaped the eels as she hopped on the descending rocks, tossing the book first before diving onto the shore like a mad woman. She landed hard, her chest heaving as she lay sprawled on the ground, adrenaline coursing through her veins. Her breaths came in ragged gasps, her limbs trembling from the exertion. Dirt clung to her sweat-soaked skin, and her muscles ached from the desperate scramble. For a moment, she just lay there, eyes wide, heart pounding in her ears, struggling to process the danger she had just survived.

~~~

While Ella struggled to escape the giant eels above, another struggled beneath the surface of the lagoon.

“WHO DARES TO BREAK BRIDGET’S CURSE?” Uliana yelled angrily at her closest crew.

Each one denied with “I don’t even like her,” or “I wouldn’t do that to you, my goddess,” or “I don’t care,” But one, out of the four, remained silent. Hook processed what he had done, unsure why he had acted. For him, it was really just a spur of the moment, nothing else. Or was it? 

As he stood there, a flashback of their dance at the Castlecoming Ball flooded his mind—the way Bridget had looked at him, her eyes filled with warmth and trust. He remembered the softness of her hand in his, the lightness of her laugh as they moved across the floor. It had been a rare moment where he felt something—something he couldn’t quite name, but it lingered, stirring a part of him he thought long buried.

Was it guilt? Was it something more? Even he himself didn’t know why he had acted, but the memory of Bridget’s smile haunted him, leaving him more conflicted than ever.

“James, would you care to explain.” Uliana smiled with wide eyes that could kill.

Morgie and the couple moved aside as Uliana approached him. “I thought we had already established that you don’t have anything to do with that pesky princess.”

“I don’t.” Hook answered shortly, gulping.

“Then tell me, why in Merlin’s world is she back to her normal self?” She asked, her tentacle brushing his cheeks.

“I don’t kno—” 

“LIES!” Uliana accused firmly.

“There’s only five of us who know how to reverse it.” She paused, scanning the group. “These three,” pointing at Maleficent, Morgie, and Hades, “don’t like her enough to do her a favor.”

“But you, my dear, have been showing a lot of interest in her. Even danced with her during the ball. Was it really all just an act, Hook?”

Hook couldn’t utter a single word, also unsure where his loyalty lay.

Uliana took his silence as a no, "I guess you’ve made your choice.”

She inhaled deeply before she yelled, “THROW HIM TO THE EELS!”

Uliana’s other lackeys started to surround Hook as she blew her shell necklace.

“WAIT! Do we really have to do this, Uli?” Morgie interfered. 

She scoffed before saying, “ Loyalty isn’t gray like people, Morgie. It's black and white. You’re either completely loyal or not loyal at all.” She continued in a bitter tone.

“BUT—”

“NO MORE BUTS! THROW HIM NOW!” 

Maleficent cast a spell on the lackeys, freezing them in place.

“Don’t you dare, Mal!”

“I’m not,” she defended herself. 

“I just thought that we could use him to torment princess weirdo more,” Maleficent suggested, her eyes glowing green, signaling her psychotic tendencies. The thrill of watching Bridget squirm under their manipulation was far more appealing than simply eliminating Hook; it was a game, and she relished the thought of orchestrating chaos from the shadows, savoring every moment of the princess’s despair.

Uliana narrowed her eyes, contemplating Maleficent’s suggestion. Maleficent wasn’t always like this; she never orchestrated a plan, especially something that could harm Hook. Maybe she had a change of heart. Maybe this time, Maleficent had chosen to be more active in ensuing chaos.

“You think you can manipulate him to your advantage? That could work, but it’s a risk.”

“Every plan is a risk,” Maleficent replied smoothly, her expression sly. “But if he’s truly conflicted, we can use that to our benefit. He’ll be our pawn in this game.”

“Fine, but do it properly,” Uliana said to Maleficent as she exited the hideout with Morgie following right behind her.

Hook felt grateful to Maleficent. She always had his back, always diverting the attention from him whenever he needed it. However, he would never guess she would suggest he become their pawn. Their pawn. Maybe it was just his theatrics rubbing off on her.

He approached her. “Thanks for that, Mal. I know that I can count on you,” he said, placing his left hand on her shoulder.

Maleficent looked at the hand as if disgusted by it. Pushing the hand away, she said, “Don’t be ridiculous. There’s no fun in making you eel food. Controlling you would be much, much more thrilling.” Her eyes glowed green again.

“Mal—”

“I already warned you before, so don’t even.” she threatened her ‘friend’, before leaving the hideout with Hades.

Hook couldn’t believe this. A wave of dread washed over him. He had underestimated Uliana’s wrath. He underestimated the depths of Maleficent’s cunningness. Maybe for once, he also needed to take his own advice: Trust no one, because even salt can look like sugar.

~~~

A/N: After a few days, I finally finished it. Don't really know if it makes sense, but I hope it does! Happy reading everyone!!!

[sergeantbarnessdoll]

heyy, could you write abt bestfriend!bucky x bestfriend!reader, where they talk abt random stuff and then it comes up that bucky never saw boobs irl and reader decides to show him? maybe some smut in the end😝🎀

Help You Out With That » Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier

Pairings: Best Friend!Bucky Barnes x Best Friend!Female Reader

Summary: Bucky admits that he’s never seen boobs in real life so you decide to help him out with that and show him yours. Then one thing leads to another and you two end up hooking up.

Warnings: Smut (18+), language, brief mention of alcohol, kissing, hickeys, fingering, female receiving, unprotected sex, praise kink, size kink, Bucky’s dog tags, pet names

A/N: Thank you to the lovely anonymous person who requested this🩵

Written on my phone. My apologies for any mistakes.

Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier

GIF IS NOT MINE! Credit goes to the creator.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!🔞

“There’s no way you did that.” Bucky says laughing.

“I did.” You laughed. “When I was 16, my friends dared me and gave me $20 to jump in the river with no clothes on.” You tell him. “I just didn’t know there was a cop there.” You said laughing.

“Did you get arrested?” He asks curiously, taking a sip of beer.

“Yep.” You nodded, taking a sip of your drink. “My parents were so pissed and I got grounded for the rest of that month.” You say.

You were over at Bucky’s apartment spending time with him and talking about random things. You two haven’t seen each other in a while due to him being on a week long mission. He got home last night and he asked you to come over today.

“So you were totally naked when you jumped in the river?” He asks.

“Yes.” You answered.

“Meaning that your friends and the cop saw your boobs?” He asks curiously.

“Yes.” You answered. “The cop told me to put my clothes on before he handcuffed me and took me to the police station.” You say.

“Hmm.” He hums, taking a long sip of his beer. “I’ve never seen boobs.” He admits.

You stared at him with a surprised look on your face, blinking a couple times. James Buchanan Barnes, the ladies man of the 1940s and your best friend, has never seen a woman’s boobs. He looks and seems like the kind of man who has seen literally almost everything in his life.

“You’ve never seen boobs?” You asked, making sure you heard him right.

Bucky nods to confirm it, feeling his cheeks heat up in embarrassment. You bit your bottom lip when an idea popped into your head. You leaned forward just enough to take off your tank top, dropping it on the floor. Bucky stared at you with wide eyes.

“What- What are you doing?” Bucky asks.

“Showing you my boobs.” You confidently said. “I’m just gonna help you out with that.” You say with a wink.

Bucky watched you take your bra off and drop it on the floor. You stood up and sat on his lap, straddling him. Bucky wasn’t sure if he should look at your face or boobs.

“You can look at them.” You tell him. “I trust you.” You say.

Bucky’s eyes move down to your boobs, his breath got caught in his throat. He licked his lips as he stared at them with hungry eyes.

“You can touch them.” You say, shaking your chest to make your boobs jiggle.

Bucky hesitantly brought his hands up to your boobs. He put his hands on your sides just below your boobs. You shivered at the cool feeling of his vibranium hand against your skin. Bucky’s thumb rubbed against the underside of your boobs before moving his hands more towards your boobs. He gently cupped them, his thumbs rubbed over your nipples, making you moan softly.

Bucky decided to take it a step further. He leaned his head forward, placing kisses along the swells of your boobs. His teeth nipped on your skin, hard enough to mark you up. He slowly moved his lip down towards on of your nipples, taking it in his mouth. His tongue swirled around your nipple, flicking the hardened bud with the tip of his tongue. You moaned at the feeling. Your hands grasped onto his shirt, clutching it in your hands.

You didn’t even realize you were moving your hips against his till you felt his bulge rubbing against your pussy through your shorts. You could feel your panties getting wetter by the second. You tilted your head back and closed your eyes, enjoying the feeling. You were also enjoying the feeling of his stubble against your skin.

Bucky’s hand found its way to the back of your head and moved it so you were looking at him. He moved his lips upwards to your lips, kissing you hungrily. You cupped his cheeks to intensify the kiss. The kiss got more heated by the second. His tongue swiped across your bottom lip, making you part your lips just enough for his tongue to slide itself in your mouth, exploring every inch of your mouth.

Bucky put his hands on your hips, holding onto you with a tight grip so he can maneuver the two of you so you were laying on the couch and Bucky was on top of you. His right hand left your hip to unbutton and unzip your shorts. He slid his hand inside of your shorts, touching your panties and finding out how wet your panties are.

“You’re so fucking wet, doll.” Bucky groans against your lips.

“It’s all because of you.” You say.

Bucky smirked against your lips and slide his hand in the front of your panties. His fingers began rubbing your clit. You bucked your hips against his hand, wanting more. Bucky chuckles at your eagerness.

“Eager, aren’t you, babydoll?” Bucky chuckles.

You whined at his words and bucked your hips against his hand again.

“Patiences, doll face.” He says softly.

Bucky pulled away from your lips and kissed down your body, stopping just above the waistbands of your shorts and panties. He looked up at you, waiting for permission, which you gave him. He hooked his fingers in the waistbands of your shorts and panties, pulling them down in one go and threw them somewhere in the living room.

He kissed both of your hipbones before placing soft kisses on your inner thighs, making his way to your wet pussy. You shivered when you felt his breath on where you need him the most. Bucky licked in between your folds, catching you off guard and moaning to himself.

“Just as I thought.” He licks your folds again. “You taste amazing.” He practically moans.

His tongue licked from your entrance to your clit a few times before circling the tip of his tongue around your clit. You bucked your hips at the feeling. Bucky laid his vibranium arm across your hips to hold you down.

“Stay still.” His voice sounding husky. “I want to enjoy your sweetness before I fuck you.” He says.

Bucky latched his lips onto your clit, sucking on it while his tongue continues to lick your slick on your folds. He ate you out like a starved man. Your hands flew down to his head, your fingers tugging on his hair. You lifted your head up and looked down at him. Bucky’s eyes flickered up at you and winked at you.

You were caught off guard when Bucky slid a finger in your pussy. You moaned at the feeling of his finger rubbing along your walls. You got lost in your thoughts. You were curious to know how this man knows how to eat pussy like a pro, but has never seen boobs. That thought floated around in your mind till Bucky snapped you out of your thoughts.

“Did I make you go dumb with my tongue, doll face? I was expecting you to go dumb on my cock.” Bucky says cockily.

You just moaned at his dirty words. His dirty words turned you on even more. You threw your head back against the arm of the couch in pleasure, your eyes fluttering shut.

“Nuh uh.” Bucky’s vibranium hand gently tapped your cheek. “Eyes on me, babydoll.” He orders.

You huffed softly before opening your eyes and readjusted your head so you were looking down at him eating you out.

“That’s it.” He softly praises. “Good girl.” He praises again.

Bucky went back to eating you out. His tongue licked from your clit to your entrance. The tip of his tongue prodded your entrance, catching you by surprise and making a pornographic moan fall from your lips. Bucky smirked to himself and did it again, earning another pornographic moan from you. Your pussy also clenched around his finger.

Your orgasm began to build up and your legs started to shake a little bit. Your back arched off of the couch when his finger hit your sweet spot. His tongue continued to flick against your clit. You already knew you weren’t going to last much longer.

“I can feel you getting close, doll.” Bucky huskily said. “Are you gonna cum?” He asks, already knowing the answer.

“Yes!” You answered in a whimper. “Please let me cum!” You begged desperately.

“Cum for me, babydoll.” He says.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head and a loud moan of his name left your lips when you came, soaking his fingers and face. Bucky’s tongue gave your clit one last flick before he sat up. His beard was drenched in your juices. He hovered over you, kissing you hungrily. You moaned against his lips.

Bucky pulled away from the kiss to take off his clothes. You watched with hungry eyes. You licked your lips when you finally got to see his perfectly sculpted body. Your eyes wandered further down his body. Your eyes stared at his cock. He’s big. His cock is hard and leaking with precum.

“My eyes are up here, gorgeous.” Bucky says, playfully snapping his fingers.

You sat up and reached for his Army dog tags, grabbing onto the chain and yanked on them to pull him closer to you. You kissed him with hunger. You moaned when you felt his cock against your pussy. You reached a hand down and stroked his cock, making Bucky moan softly against your lips.

“Fuck me please, Bucky.” You begged softly, letting go of his cock.

Bucky held the base of his cock, lining it at your entrance. He watched your facial expressions as he slid his cock in your pussy. Your mouth fell open when you felt him stretching you open.

“So big.” You say breathlessly.

You spread your legs wider to give him more access. Bucky’s hands rubbed up and down your waist before holding onto it. His thrusts started off slow and loving, but sped up enough to make it pleasurable. Your hands grasped onto his biceps, digging your nails in his skin and the vibranium.

You quickly got entranced by his dog tags dangling just above your face. His dog tags swung every time he thrusted. You grabbed onto them and pulled on them just enough to get Bucky to lean down to kiss you. The kiss was sloppy, but your lips with in sync with his.

Bucky pulled away from the kiss and moved back just enough to stare at your boobs, quickly getting mesmerized by them bouncing as he thrusted into you. He licked his lips at the sight. He dipped his head down to kiss softly along the swells of your boobs. While his lips were occupied with kissing your boobs, his right hand left your waist and found its way to your boob. His thumb rubbed over your nipple and circled it a few times before pinching it. A tingle shot through your body, along with a moan falling from your lips.

“Fuck, Bucky!” You moaned.

“I love the way you say my name.” Bucky huskily said. “Say it again.” He says.

“Oh Bucky!” You moaned again.

You moaning his name urged Bucky on. His thrusts got faster. You wrapped your legs around his waist, locking your ankles together and pulled himself closer to you. That made Bucky’s cock go deeper in your pussy. A loud moan left your lips when his cock found your sweet spot with ease. Your hands found their way to his back, digging your nails in his skin and making red line marks.

“Right there!” You tell him. “Right fucking there!” You say again, followed by a moan.

“Is that your little spot, babydoll?” He asks in a cooing voice.

You moaned in response. You arched your back in pleasure. You practically shoved your boobs in Bucky’s face, which he had no problem with.

Bucky’s vibranium hand snaked its way down to your clit and started rubbing it. You jumped slightly at the cool feeling, but quickly got used to it. Your pussy clenched around his cock at the feeling of his fingers against your clit, making Bucky moan at the feeling.

“Fuck…” Bucky moans.

Your orgasm built up the more Bucky rubbed your clit. You felt your lower stomach tighten. It felt like a rubber band was about to snap inside of you. You weren’t sure how much you could take.

“Bucky, I- fuck!” You moaned more in a whimper. “I’m going to cum.” You tell him. “Please let me cum.” You begged desperately.

“Cum for me, gorgeous.” Bucky says huskily.

His fingers rubbed your clit faster. That’s when you fell over the edge. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head and his name fell from your lips in a loud moan when you came.

“That’s a good girl.” He praises. “Good fucking girl.” He praises again.

Bucky gave your clit one last rub and then focused on his own orgasm, which wasn’t too far behind yours. His thrusts got sloppy, but he quickly regain rhythm. Bucky’s head fell against your chest.

“I need to- fuck… I need to pull out, doll.” He says, panting.

“No!” You whined. “Cum in me.” You tell him.

“You can’t just say shit like that, babydoll.” He says.

“Just do it! I want to feel it!” You tell him.

“Dirty girl.” He growls.

Bucky came inside of you after a few more thrusts. His thrusts came to a halt. He unwrapped your legs from his waist and sat back on the couch. The two of you were panting and sweaty.

“That was…” You breathed, trying to find the right words to describe the best sex you just had with Bucky.

“Fucking incredible.” Bucky says.

“Mhmm.” You hummed, nodding your head.

Bucky looked over at you. He admired the hickeys he left all over your boobs.

“Thank you for helping me out with that.” He says.

“You don’t have to thank me, Buck.” You sat up. “I’ll show you my boobs anytime you want to see them.” You say and bit your bottom lip, shaking your chest to make your boobs jiggle.

Bucky grabbed you and pulled you onto his lap, making you squeal.

“You have great boobs.” Bucky says, licking his lips and making you giggle.

🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖

-Bucky’s Doll

[rubiehart]

HONEYED KISSES…

summary: jj missed his girl all day at work, when he comes home all he wants to do is love on her…

warnings: mdni/nsfw 18+, reader is in early pregnancy, mentions/descriptions of postpartum body, mentions of complications giving birth (very minor), reader has body insecurity,, jj stands for jesse james, so much praise, talking her through it, nicknames such as: sweetheart, darlin’, angel etc.. smut, p in v, oral (fem r.) body worship (fem r.)

word count: 9.5k

blurbs n’ other thoughts for this pairing found here!

His eyebrows raise, a smirk of amusement on his face as you approach him clad in just one of his old shirts that’s a little too big on you and your eyes meet, he looks you up and down, drinking in the sight of you with a satisfied look on his face, his eyes lingering on the hem brushes the tops of your thighs, and the way your milk heavy breasts stretch the fabric a little.

He lets out a wolf whistle, unable to help himself, a sound that’s become so natural to both him and you, the one that’s always got you smilin’ all nervous. He reaches his hands out to grab your hips, pulling you against him, drawling in that stupid accent. “And what have we here?”

You’re already smiling, cherub cheeks blushy as he swoops you off of your feet, ticking at your sides with his ringed fingers. Your laughs n’ excited squeals of protest ring through the little house, and you slap a hand over your mouth to shut yourself up, thinking about your baby girl asleep in her nursery down the hall, but you still can’t contain her giggles. “J!”

“Shush.” He grins that grin that he only reserves for you and presses a finger to your lips, shushing you playfully, “Don’t wanna wake Jackie now, do ya?” his words are thick in his Southern drawl and his eyes glint with their familiar mischievous glint as he walks you over to the couch.

His hand rests against the small of your back, gripping at your ass through the fabric of your panties. He places you down on the couch, hovering over you as he hovers above you with a smirk, hands on either side of your head, staring at you with eyes full of love and adoration.

Your laughter dies down and her eyes flutter open, face still all hot. When your eyes meet his they soften, in a way that makes his heart ache in his chest, a pang. They flick all over his face, each eye, to his nose, down to his lips and they linger there for a little until they’re meeting his again.

His cocky smirk turns a little gentler, more fond and his eyes gaze down at you in a manner that could only be described as worshipping. The rough pads of his fingers run along the soft skin of your jaw, tracing over the freckles that are painted in constellations over your nose and cheeks before he’s cupping your cheek.

“My pretty girl…” He murmurs tenderly, thumb brushing over the flesh of your bottom lip before he’s leaning down capturing your lips in a slow, sensual kiss.

Your arms wrap around his neck, lashes fluttering against his skin as you kiss him back, thick thighs moving to hook around his waist gently to pull him close. To keep him close. His calloused thumb runs softly over the baby soft skin of your cheeks as he kisses you all sweet and desperate.

He smiles into the kiss, the feeling of your thick thighs wrapping around him bringing a spark in his gut, a spark that would grow and grow if it weren’t for the fact that you were currently pregnant with his child and he didn’t want to push it.

He breaks the kiss, panting a little before he’s kissing your cheek, your jaw and your neck, peppering kisses over the sensitive flesh, his hands trailing over the soft cotton of his shirt that you’re wearing.

His hands push up the cotton of your shirt above your tummy, barely showing but it’s a little rounded - it’s the thought that his baby boy or girl is in there that makes him want to worship the flesh as if it’s gold. Your head falls back against the armrest of the couch. Your lips part, eyes hooded as you watch him, soft breaths of pleasure leaving your lips.

He looks up at you from the soft curve of your stomach, eyes admiring the softness that you’d gained over the last few months. He presses a firm kiss to your stomach, hands rubbing over your sides, eyes locked on yours as he lets out a low groan, “Pretty girl…so pretty for me..”

He presses a few more kisses to your skin, worshipping the flesh with his lips, as his hands trace over the softness of your hips.

He kisses softly at the rounded bump, lips chapped as his eyes trace the lightened stretch marks that still lingered from your first baby, Quinn, they trail in soft lines along your hips and inner thighs, some streaking under your bump.

You sniffle softly, head still dropped back as you shuffle a little as he pulls you a little closer to him on the couch. It’s as if he can feel the insecurity coming off of you in waves.

The pads of his fingers trace the faint silvery stretch marks on your hips, his eyes taking in the sight with a pang in his gut, remembering how they’d first appeared and the tears that’d run down your face, no doubt from hormonal changes and he’d kissed over every single one and told you you were still just as pretty as ever.

He keeps his soft kisses coming, his mouth moving upwards, over your stomach and your ribs, and to your chest, leaving his kisses there too.

He lets his kisses linger a little longer across those places, where the marks from his baby girl lay, that declared her entry into the world. Your hips, inner thighs and breasts. He hears your breath hitch softly and his hand slides up to find yours, wordlessly interlocking your fingers and squeezing softly, as if to tell you ‘It’s okay, I’ve got you.’

“You’re beautiful.” He mumbles softly against your chest, lips moving up along the flesh to your collarbone and your neck, his body draped over you. His thighs are pressed into the couch on either side of your hips, his hard body flush against your own softer, rounder one.

His free hand is sliding underneath the cotton of the shirt, tracing over your ribs and up to your breast. Fingers ghosting across the underside of the soft flesh.

“Dunno know how I got so lucky.” He whispers against your skin.

You sniffs softly, jaw clenches as if to hold back tears you know will come, hand moving down to card your fingers through his hair, loving him wordlessly as you look down at him through hooded eyes, chest aching with love.

You watch the way the muscles of his arms ripple as he worships you like he always has, skinny or not, mother to his children or not, confident or not. His eyes shine in the orange lamp which makes your chest constrict.

He presses another languid kiss to your soft skin, his hands and mouth roaming as if he’s worshipping your body and a part of him is. He’s always thought you were beautiful, and the way that your body is changing to accommodate the child growing inside you has only made him more in awe with you.

He nips softly at the underside of your jaw, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin gently. “Best damn thing that ever happened to me…” He murmurs against your skin, voice low and gravelly.

His calloused thumb runs softly over one of the larger stretch marks along your hip, still a darker pink colour than all the rest, he presses hot open mouthed kisses to the hot skin of your collarbone as you mewl ever so softly he almost doesn’t hear. The baby hairs from your messy updo tickle at his skin, breath hot against his forehead.

He grins softly against the soft skin of your clavicle, his hand still tracing and worshiping the stretch marks that covered your hips and thighs. Fingers skimming across them, he moves to press a trail of kisses up your neck and towards your ear and jawline, teeth nipping at the skin when he gets there, “My perfect girl..”

He pulls you even tighter against him, the hand that was interlocked with yours moving to grip at your hip.

You feel the soft touch when he brushes his fingertips against the stretch mark, the one you’d spent especially long staring at in the mirror, he’d seen that, knows. Was there to kiss every inch of you when you were at her lowest after pregnancy, telling you that you’re beautiful no matter what. You almost jolts at the feeling, soft laughter from his kisses along your jaw dying down slowly.

His hands still, taking notice of how you jerked with a start and he can feel the frown forming on your face, knowing exactly what you’re thinking. He pulls away a little, enough so that he can look you in the eye and presses a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“Quit it…” His words are tender and his eyes are soft as he looks at you, his hand coming to brush a few loose hairs from out of your face. “Lemme take care of my girl.”

“Kay.” You whisper softly, saliva clicking in your mouth, eyes a little teary at the way he’s looking at you, as if she’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

He lets out a soft chuckle, hands smoothing over your sides, your chest, wherever he can touch. “You better not be cryin’.” He murmurs against your skin, soft kisses against your collarbone that has you shuddering slightly.

He looks up at you, tilting your head down as his nose brushes against yours.

“M’ not.” You whisper, voice a little raspy, caught in your throat a little as he kisses at your soft skin, down the column of your throat. “Are we gon’ have sex?” You whisper softly, wet lashes fluttering softly against your cheeks.

He lets out a low hum at that, nipping softly at your skin, “Mm…we could..” His hands are skimming along your body, fingers tracing along the edge of the old tee shirt, “but you’re all tired, aren’t ya? Need some rest..”

He presses another kiss to your collarbone, moving back up to just below your ear, “And I don’t wanna be too rough with you, y’know? In your condition.”

“What condition’s that?” You pant out a little breathlessly, lips parting in a soft whimper when his teeth graze your sweet spot.

His head dips back to the flesh of your neck, teeth grazing that one spot that he knows drives you crazy, “Pregnant..” He growls against the sensitive skin, nipping softly at the flesh before soothing over it with his warm mouth, she feels him grinning against the skin and her stomach goes all fluttery.

“Thought you liked me pregnant..” You whisper, breath catching and shaky as he sucks over the soft skin of your neck, always touch starved but not because he wasn’t always there, because his touch had her insatiable, always begging for more.

“I do.” His low growl is almost too much for you, and he grins against your skin, leaving a soft mark there. “So damn sensitive, huh? Gettin’ riled up..”

He drags his lips along your collarbone, hands roaming over the round curve of your hip, “S’ all my fault, ain’t it?”

“Please take me to bed.” You whine softly, head falling back to give him better access as your legs wrap around his waist, arms ‘round his neck.

His grip on you tightens, letting out a soft grunt as you wrap your arms and legs around him. He loves it when you’re like this, needy and wanting, “Bossy, ain’t ya?”

He stands up from the couch, hands coming to grip at your thighs and ass as they’re wrapped around him, “You’re gonna have to be quiet though, remember? Gotta let our girl get some sleep, y’know.”

“I will. Want it gentle anyway.” You huff softly into the crevice between his neck and shoulder, breathing in his scent as you cling to him like a koala bear.

“Gentle.” He murmurs softly as he begins walking to the bedroom, his long strides eating up the short hall quickly. He’s always liked you like this, clinging to him, in his shirt, begging him to take care of you.

“S’ been a while, hasn’t it?” He says as he reaches the bedroom and he lowers you slowly onto the bed, his body covering yours again as he lays you down onto the soft sheets.

“Yeah..” You whisper quietly, hair splaying around you on the pillow as she looks up at him, feeling a tiny bit shyer at the way he towers over your laying form.

He just looks down at you for a moment, taking in the flushed cheeks, the messy hair and the tee shirt that’s far too big on you. He’s seen you like this a million times before but still, every time, you look absolutely breathtaking.

He leans down, hands either side of your head as he hovers above you, his body pressing you into the sheets. He smiles at the way you look up at him, “You’re so pretty, y’know? Like, unreal pretty..”

“Shut up.” You grumble, cheeks heating up bashfully, freckled nose wrinkling. At that he’s already dipping his head down to mouth at your sweet spot. “Are.. are you stayin’ on top?” She manages through a sweet whimper.

He chuckles, low and rough and the sound sets a spark in your gut, “Yeah, sweetheart. I’m stayin’ on top.”

He presses a soft kiss to your nose, that adorable crinkle before he’s moving to trail kisses down your jaw, “Don’t think I’m gon’ be goin’ too rough, or deep or nothin’, I don’t wanna strain you.”

“I want you deep.” You whisper, looking up at him through thick lashes, he nearly crumbles right there. “Jus’ ‘want you to fuck me like on our weddin’ night, y’know? Gentle.. but still deep, holdin’ me n’ stuff.”

He can’t help the soft groan that escapes from him when you whisper that to him, it sends sparks racing up his spine and his eyes darken a little. “You’re playin’ dirty.” He murmurs against your neck as he bites softly at your skin.

“Like our wedding night, huh?” He’s already leaning down, breath tickling the shell of your ear, “I can do that for you, angel.. can do anything for you..”

“Do.. d’ya remember it?” You ask as he kisses up all over your neck and shoulders, images of that night flashing through your mind, lips parted, little moans slipping through the rubied flesh.

“Do I remember it?” He lets out a little huff of disbelief as he grins against your skin, “Course I remember it, baby. Best night of my damn life.”

He continues leaving his kisses and little marks all across your neck and shoulders, “Think about it all the damn time..”

You let out a soft sigh of ecstasy, legs wrapping around his waist as he continues to kiss a path down your body, slowly stripping you of her t-shirt and panties as he goes.

He pulls your shirt off, throwing it somewhere to the other side of the room before he moves his lips back down your collarbone and all over your chest and ribs. His lips kiss and nipped gently over the soft flesh as he moves down your body, coming to a stop just above your bump.

His hands slide up your sides, palms wide as he gently touches the skin that is stretched taut over your swollen middle. His mouth leaves wet kisses on the underside of your stomach before moving to kiss the faint silvery stretch marks.

“Shhh..” He reassured gently against the skin, eyes flicking up to meet yours where you’re leaning up on your elbows, watching him as he pays special attention to those marks that welcomed his first baby girl into the world, the same ones that will be a sign of your second baby who’s growing in your tummy as he kisses it.

“So beautiful.” He whispers against your skin softly, reverently as his lips press against the stretch marks, his hand moving to cover your baby bump. It’s warm and his palm is large enough to cover most of it.

He feels the way you’re watching him and he looks up at you, “The prettiest girl in the whole damn world.

You sigh softly through your spit slick lips, eyes sunken and teary as you looks down at him.

“Don’t be cryin’.” He murmurs softly as he continues to gently kiss along your skin, “None of that.”

He trails his mouth further south, his hands sliding down the inside of your thighs, leaving open mouthed kisses against them. He pauses for a moment as he looks up at you, fingers gently running along your core, “Can’t have you cryin’ when I’m about to make you feel real good.”

You sniffle out a soft laugh at his teasing grin, swiping at your teary eyes. “Kay, ‘m not cryin’.”

He grins, the sight of you all teary under him is doing something to him, and he lets out another low hum as he continues to gently kiss your thighs, his hands spreading them wider, “Good girl.”

He looks up at you, “S’ been a while since I’ve tasted you, huh sweetheart?”

You let out a shaky breath at the feeling of his lips over your panty clad core, fingers gripping the sheets beside your body. After having Quinn a year and a half ago, you’d been real insecure about this part of your body in particular, especially since you’d had her naturally.

Before babies, JJ’s absolute favourite thing ever to do was to eat you out, and things were no different now, he just has to prove that to you. “I dunno J.. if ‘s a good idea..”

He can feel the uncertainty in the way your body tenses up, can tell that you’re still worried about it. It’s what you always do when you’re feeling insecure about something, and god he hates it. He lets out another little low sound, “Ain’t a good idea my ass.”

He moves forwards, pushing up your thighs as he does, pressing a soft kiss to the inside of your left thigh, “Lemme prove it to you darlin’.”

You let out a soft breath, eyes fluttering gently as he pulls you a little further down the bed, hooking your thighs over his broad shoulders.

He presses soft wet kisses against your inner thighs, before he’s licking a broad slow stripe right over the fabric of your cotton panties, eyes looking up at you as you shudder at the feeling.

“See, nothin’ to it.” He murmurs, nipping and sucking softly at the sensitive skin on your thighs, “I’ve still got my favourite meal right here..”

You laugh softly, thighs trembling softly over his shoulders at the way he’s teasing her over the cotton, contrast to their wedding night completely with the way he ripped you out of that lingerie like a man dying of thirst in a desert. He was a boy then, he’s a man now, and he knows how to treat his woman.

He presses a few more kisses to your thighs, the soft flesh of it almost like a comfort to him, almost second nature. The way he touches you and worships you is almost like a practiced routine, one he knows by heart.

His nose brushes up against the cotton fabric between your legs, and he lets out another contented sound, “Just as sweet as always..”

The scent of your arousal makes him genuinely crave it, saliva rushing to his tongue and he aches to taste her now. He’d always been an eater, ever since they first got together, it’s a trait that no matter how much he’s grown up and matured, never left him.

He lets out another soft groan and his hands tighten around your thighs, tongue swiping softly over the fabric, eyes looking up at you again. “Missed this..” He murmurs, his words vibrating softly against you.

His nose presses against your core gently, inhaling the scent and his eyes darken, “Missed you…”

You laugh breathily, and that’s one of his favourite sounds, second to the sound of your moans. “Why dy’a always smell me?” You whisper, one hand moving to thread your fingers through his hair gently.

He looks up from between your legs, letting out another soft laugh of his own, “’S like my little reward.” His eyes darken as his words send another shiver down your spine, “Makin’ sure you’re all nice an’ sweet for me.. can’t disappoint my baby, now can I?”

“What, you like it?” You sniff softly, a soft moan slipping between your wet lips when he mouths at her through the fabric with a hot mouth.

“Don’t I always?” He grins softly, looking up at you, “Sweetest I’ve ever tasted..”

He continues kissing at you through the cotton, letting out a low sound as you moan softly. He lets his nose press into your core, the material soaked though, his hands squeezing and pressing at your soft thighs, fingers leaving behind little indents in the flesh. “Think I need a little taste, that a’right?”

His angular nose catches against your bundle of nerves and you jolt softly, a soft squeak-moan hybrid squeezing past your lips. “Mhm, thas’ okay.” She hums, and he knows. He knows that you’re insecure, you’d been fine up to this point with all the over the panties touching and kissing, but now he was going to be seeing you post partum, under the panties, completely bare.

He sees the way you shiver, and he sees the way your thighs clench together softly, “Relax, darlin’.” He whispers softly, fingers stroking gently at the soft flesh of your thighs, soothing you, “Lemme take care a’ you..”

He gives your inner thigh a gentle squeeze before he’s moving his fingers to the waistband of your panties, tugging them lightly, “Lift em’ up for me, honey girl.”

She lets out a soft breath of adoration at the nickname, hips lifting off the bed as she instinctively cradles her small bump.

He pulls them down your thick thighs, made thicker from pregnancy which was one of his favourite changes, eyes not leaving you the whole time as he assesses your body language, needing to know you were okay at all times and not getting in your head about anythin’.

His eyes are dark, pupils blown wide with arousal, and he can see how vulnerable you feel right now. You’re all bared for him to see, completely open and exposed. He takes you in silently, eyes roaming over your body as he lets out a low sound of admiration.

“Look at you..” He whispers reverently, his hands now free to roam where they please, fingers tracing over the inside of your thighs softly.

He hears your breath catch softly above him, looking up as he grins against the skin of your thigh, all lovesick and handsome for his pretty girl.

He presses a few more hot open mouthed kisses along your inner thighs, getting closer and closer to where you’re dripping and glossy for him. At the sight of your core he’s already salivating, nothing’s changed from before.

He thinks it’s stupid that you could be insecure about something like that, but he does understand. When giving birth to Quinn, you’d tore down there, minimally, but it still required stitches, which was why he needed to get that message through your thick skull that he doesn’t care.

He’s pressed a few more soft kisses to your thighs and your body is trembling softly, his breath hot against your core, “Lemme hear you, angel..” He murmurs softly, “Wanna hear you so damn bad..”

His hands grip at your thighs, fingers pressing hard as he pushes them apart for him, his nose trailing right over you. “Still my sweet girl..” He murmurs, his voice little more than a gravelly whisper. It’s so close he can nearly taste it.

You let out a soft whimper, breath stuttering as he breathes you in, nose pressed right against your wet core, its some sort of primal need he’d never be able to explain to anyone, the need to smell you.

“J..” You whine sweetly, and he feels like the airs been punched out of his lungs for a second at the sound. That. That right there is his favourite sound, and he’s been waitin’ all night and all day at work to hear it.

“Use y’ words, sweetheart..” He whispers softly against your core, hands tightening around your thighs, his eyes flicking up to watch the way your face contorts, the way your head falls back against the pillow, exposing your pretty neck.

He presses his nose right against you in the intimate way he knows you like, inhaling softly, eyes dark as he groans. “Can’t wait to taste you..” He mumbles, breath hot against you, “Missed it..”

He’s got that rumble in his voice that tells you that he’s hungry for it, literally salivating to taste you. You attempt to clench your thighs but it’s no use against his strong hands gripping onto the flesh and keeping them apart with minimal effort.

“Jess..” You whine softly, and his heart pangs so hard it aches.

“Sssshhh..” He whispers softly, nipping gently at the flesh of your inner thigh, “Lemme take care a’ you..”

He shifts himself a little for a proper look at you, tongue flicking out to wet his lip at the sight, tongue slowly licking a strip up your core, taking in the taste, and oh god, he’s missed it.

You let out a soft whimper, hips writhing against his mouth as your hands grip at the sheets. He’s gentle with the work of his tongue, and after a few seconds he’s pulling his mouth away, licking the arousal from around his mouth as he spreads your outer lips with two thumbs, admiring.

His eyes are a nearly inky black, dark and hungry as his gaze is fixed between your thighs, and his mouth waters. He wants to tease, he wants to make this last but he also can’t stop the instincts of his body. He leans forward, tongue running up through your folds slowly just once, eyes snapping up to look at you as he tastes you for the first time in over a year, properly.

“S the scar gone?” You whisper, hips shuffling softly against the mattress as you look down at him, eyelashes fluttering softly and he sees the worry behind them after these all these years of reading her every expression. It breaks his heart a little that the scar is her first thought.

“Can’t see it.” He murmurs against your thigh, his nose tracing along the skin, “Still my pretty girl..”

He sucks softly at your outer labia before his tongue is licking gently again, getting a feel for you again, “So sweet..” He murmurs softly, shifting his hold on your thighs as one of his hands moves down, his middle finger tracing gently over the edge of your entrance.

Your head falls back against the pillows at that information, feeling his finger at your entrance, getting you ready for him.

He pushes in softly, eyes looking up at you to check you’re still comfortable. “This okay?” His tone is genuine and loving, eyes never leaving yours as he pushes in a soft moan slipping from his lips at the sound of your breath hitching.

He pushes in just to the first knuckle, and feels you contracting around the single digit, biting down on the inside of your cheek, his eyes never leaving your face to continuously check how you’re doing.

“There we go…” He coos softly, finger pressing in deeper but still gently, “Been a while, but you’re still doin’ so good, baby..”

He knows you’re insecure, all the way, and he hates it. Your body has gone through everything a human body can, and still you’re more beautiful to him than you’ve ever been.

He’s in to the second knuckle now, building up a soft pace as he pushes in and out, keeping his thumb rubbing comforting little circles over your little button to keep you relaxed.

He feels the way you’re clenching, sees the twitch of your hips, and he grins faintly, leaning further forward to swipe his tongue across your core, finger still moving gently. “That good?” He murmurs softly, “You doin’ okay, honey girl? Still good?”

“S’ a little tight, J..” You hum, hips writhing softly on the bed as his thumb moves a little faster against your bundle of nerves, in attempt to quell the dull sting you feels from the intrusion after so long.

“I know, sweetheart.” He murmurs against your core, “But you’re taking it so good.. such a good girl for me..” He takes a long slow lick through your folds as he pushes his finger all the way in, feeling you clench around him, “Just like that.. you’re doin’ so well, I know it’s been a while..”

You let out a soft sigh at the feeling of it pushing past the initial resistance, his cold ring pressed against your opening. “S’ okay.. feels better now.”You murmur, hips bucking softly as he slows down his thumb against your throbbing button, because he doesn’t want you comin’ yet, with only 1 finger when he’s still gotta get you ready for him.

Your breathing is harsh and shallow, and his ears pick up all of the little mewls and noises you lets out, eyes fixed on your face. “Want another?” His voice is barely above a whisper as you clench around the one he’s got pressed inside of you, “You think you’re ready for another?” He presses another kiss to the soft flesh of your inner thigh.

The way he’s so attentive to you is honestly making you a little dizzy and warm, you shrug, thighs trembling ever so softly against his shoulders and his hand is already there rubbing and kissing to calm it.

“I- I dunno.. does it feel ready?” You ask quietly, voice cracking a little in a soft whimper when the pad of his digit catches on that spot.

He presses another soft kiss to the softness of your thigh as he pulls his finger out a smidge, adding a little more spit to the mix, “Should be…” He murmurs softly, looking up at you, his eyes darker than normal, “S’ all about how you feel darlin’.”

He rubs gently over your core, your glistening arousal coating the two fingers he presses to you.

He sees you clench when he spits against your core, grinning against the skin of your thigh all giddy in victory, like a stupid teenager.

You nod softly, hips bucking when his soaked finger skims over your engorged button, you jolts softly and his free hand comes to hold your hips down, thumb rubbing against the flesh comfortingly.

“That’s it, good girl..” He presses another open mouthed kiss to your thigh, leaving a soft mark from where you’ve been bitten, he presses at your entrance gently with two fingers, feeling your hips jerk, a little whine leaving your lips at the intrusion, “Just keep breathin’ for me..” He murmurs softly.

You lift your hand to your face to bite at your knuckles, muffling the sounds that were bound to come, he keeps his thumb rubbing comfortingly at your hips, other at your bundle of nerves as he watches every micro expression on your face.

He watches you carefully, checking your every twitch or hitch of breath. “Don’t do that.. Lemme hear ya pretty girl..” His fingers push in just a little deeper, feeling the way you clench around them, his eyes on your facial expressions, “I wanna hear you, angel.”

You let her hand fall to grip the mattress instead, thighs shaking as you legs out little ragged breaths. “How many more till’ I can take you, J?” You whisper, head falling back against the pillow as he stills his fingers, kissing on your thighs.

“Three’s my guess..” He replies softly, looking up at you, his hand squeezing softly at your hip, before he’s curling his fingers inside you, thumb moving a little at your button, “Gotta get you opened up pretty girl.” He murmurs, leaning forwards to press a kiss to your hip bone.

“One more?” You ask softly, clenching real tight for a few seconds he thinks his blood flow has cut off in his fingers.

“Yeah..” He murmurs softly, pressing soft kisses to your hip as he pulls out his two fingers a little, spit adding to your own natural lubrication, only now adding a third against your entrance, “Gonna go slow, okay darlin’?”

“‘Kay.” You whisper, swallowing thickly, knowing the final stretch is probably going to hurt a little worse. Your hand moves down and as if he’s reading your mind his is already there too to grab yours, your fingers intertwining.

His third finger presses gently against you, he sees the way you tense up slightly, hand gripping his a little, he brings it up to his mouth to press a soft kiss to it before he’s whispering against your knuckles, “Just keep breathin’ for me, honey girl, doin’ so good..”

He’s gentle as he works in the third finger with the other two, it’s a lot tighter and he can see that your face has scrunched up a little, but he presses a few gentle kisses to your thigh, “Sshh, sshh.. you’re doin’ so good..”

“S’ it all the way in?” You sniffle softly, hand gripping his real tight as your thighs continue to shake.

“Just the three fingers, sweetheart..” He murmurs softly, “You’re doing so damn good..” He rubs his thumb gently against your hip as he moves his fingers slowly, his eyes fixed on your face, “You’re takin’ em’ so well.. you don’t know how goddamn proud I am of you..”

You sniff softly, that praise always sendingn you all emotional and lovey. “Can I take you now?”You whisper, eyes a little glassy and cheeks pinkened.

He looks at you and sees the tears in your eyes and he’s got this feeling in his stomach like he’s just fallen in love all over again, and if only you knew how god damn proud he was of you..

He lets out a soft sigh when he pulls his fingers out, his body rising between your legs, “You sure, baby? We can go a little longer..”

“Mhm, m’ sure.” You hum, reaching up to grab onto his broad shoulders to pull him closer to you, pressing your lips to his and tasting yourself on his tongue.

He returns the kiss, a hand gripping at the side of your waist, pulling you in flush to his body, “Just tell me if it’s sore, darlin’.” He whispers softly between kisses, “If it’s too much..”

One of his strong arms comes to wrap around your waist from underneath, lifting you off of the bed so you’re arching a little against him, hands gripping the sides of his face. “Mmm.. promise.”

His eyes meet your glassy ones as he holds you in his arms, holding you in that arched position as he grips your hip with one hand, kissing you softly before angling himself against your core, “Jus’ a little pressin’ darlin’..” He murmurs softly, looking down at where he’s pressed against you, “Don’t wanna dive straight in there, okay?”

“Okay.. okay.” You nod up at him eagerly, legs wrapping around his waist, heels digging into his strong lower back as he holds you tight to his chest.

In a way, it’s like you’re a virgin again, his mind flashing back to that fateful night when you were sixteen and seventeen, friends with insane sexual tension and after a particularly wild party you’d hooked up.. 4 years later and you’re married with a baby girl, another one on the way.

His eyes keep looking at your face, he’s watching so closely for any sign of pain or hesitation, but all he sees is that look in your eyes, that one that’s so full of love and the need for him.

He feels the way your heels dig into him, and he presses kisses down the column of your neck, “You’re such a good girl.. look at me.” He murmurs quietly, “I want you lookin’ at me.”

His thumb and ring finger hook under your chin to tilt her head up so your eyes can meet his above you, eyes teary and cheeks pink, mirroring his own expression. “I will.” You whisper, voice catching a little with emotion, voice raspy and so sweet.

He presses another kiss to the corner of your eye, licking away a tear, all softly and gentle. The whole world seems to melt away, there’ s nothing but each other and the feeling of him against your core, his thumb stroking over the softness of your hips, “That hurtin’?” He murmurs against your skin, “Just tell me if it’s good for you, angel..”

“S’ okay.” You whisper, licking over your lips when he pulls away from her neck to stroke his calloused thumb over your cheek, swiping away another tear. He hasn’t even started pushing in yet, tip caught on your entrance as he waits for you to tell him you’re ready.

“You sure? Just tell me if it hurts, okay?” He whispers, the hand not cupping your face holding tightly on to your hip, holding your body to his as he ever so slowly presses forward, eyes fixed on your face, “I love ya..”

“I love you.” You sob softly, arms tight around his neck as he continues to slowly inch further and further inside. Your fingers trace soft circles against the back of his neck, feeling the tattoo of his baby girl’s name there, Quinn.

“You’re doin’ beautiful, honey girl..” He’s kissing at your skin as his hips press forward a little deeper, taking you inch by inch, “Still okay?”

His arms are strong, carrying the weight of your body as he moves his lips to your mouth, kissing softly at your lips, he loves when your hands wrap around his neck, when your skin is so close to his.

“Mhm..” You hum softly into the warm skin of his neck, and he feels you draw a heart on the back of his neck, over the tattooed name. He doesn’t know if you even realises you’re doing it. “S’ stingin’.. only a little though, I can take it, J.”

“I know you can take it..” He murmurs back, nipping softly at the skin beneath your jaw, “You’re doin’ so good.. you’re my good girl, huh?”

He’s presses himself all the way in, completely enveloped by the soft of you as he holds himself there a moment. His eyes are dark and fixed on yours, every so often his eyes flicker down to your lips before snapping right back to your eyes.

Her hair splays around her head like a halo would on an angel, eyes blissfully closed as she breathes through the dull sting, wet lips parted as soft breaths leave them. “S’ it.. ‘s it in all the way?”

“Yeah.. it’s all in now, baby..” He whispers softly, hands holding you against him, “Just waitin’ til you tell me you’re good to go..”

His eyes stay on your face, watching the way your expression changes so slightly, watching for any hint of pain, his hands rubbing and squeezing softly at the flesh of your thighs, “You look so goddamn beautiful..”

“Not yet.. don’t g’ yet.” You hiccup softly, legs locking a little tighter around him, he feels the way you’re practically trying to push him out, obviously not intentionally but it makes his heart hurt a little at the pain you must be feeling.

He looks into your eyes and sees the pain, his own eyes a little watery because he wishes he could take it from you, take every bit of it and throw it far away forever. “I need you to relax for me darlin’..” He whispers softly, one hand coming to softly knead at your hip, “That’s all I need from you.. jus’ relax..”

He murmurs softly, softly pressing his lips to your forehead, “Can you do that for me, angel? You’ve been doin’ so damn good..”

You nod tearfully, letting out a soft sniffle and he’s already reading your mind as his free hand snakes down between them to thumb skillfully at your bundle of nerves, hoping to relax your grip on him a little, and also help you forget about the pain.

“Yeah.. that’s it, honey girl.. just relax..” He whispers softly, thumb rubbing in slow circles on your clit. One of his hands moves up from your hip to wipe away a few stray tears on your cheeks, “I love you..”

He keeps his touch on your core gentle, his movements slow and even as he looks at you, watching every little micro expression on your face, all in an effort to not hurt you further than you’re already hurting.

“Love you..” You choke out softly, heels digging into his lower back again as your thighs shake softly, the pain and pleasure making your head a little fuzzy. Then you whisper, voice all raspy and kind despite the pain. “Y’ can move, J.”

His hand moves to cup your face, thumb stroking gently over your cheek as he dips to capture your mouth in a soft kiss. His tongue presses against your lip, and you let him in like it’s second nature.

He starts to slowly move his hips, the movement short and small. He’s taking it slow, careful to listen to the noises you make and the way your expression changes. “Lemme know if it hurts..” He murmurs against your soft, parted lips, the words almost lost in your combined mouths.

You whine softly against his lips, legs tightening around him and your nails dig into his strong back, he’s not taking notice though. He moves his sweet kisses to the corner of your mouth and across your teary cheeks, moving inch by inch slowly, thumb not relenting against her little button.

He’s moving so gently, hands holding you so soft, his lips trailing across your face, whispering in soft praises; how beautiful you look like this, how pretty you’ve been, how good you taste. He wants to worship you with every movement of his body, every press of his hands, he wants to show you that everything he’s got belongs to you and only you.

Your thighs grip around his hips, soft whimpers fall from your bitten lips, and his eyes are all over your face. He’s got one hand on your hip, keeping rhythm, the other moving to grip your thigh. “How’s it feelin’ baby? Talk t’ me..”

You let out a shaky little breath, arms unlocking a little from around his neck and your head meets the pillow again, his hips slow down a little as he looks down at you, jaw clenching to stop himself from coming undone at the sight of his baby.

“S’ good..” You whisper, sniffling softly a little snot bubbles on your top lip, he’s quick to swipe it away with the thumb that’s not thumbing at your bundle of nerves, then moves to cup the side of your face, skim clammy n’ pinkened against his hand. “I love you.”

He’s looking down at you like you’re the only goddamn thing on the whole planet and not a single soul could change that. “I love you too..” He whispers softly, his eyes never wavering. “So damn much..”

He’s moving deeper now, taking you at a deeper angle but still so, so careful to take it slow. His hand cups the side of your face and his thumb is stroking gently, lovingly at your flushed skin. His touch is so gentle all over, you don’t think you’ve ever felt more loved.

You let out a soft little moan against his neck when he adjusts your hips effortlessly, knowing your body like the back of his hand, and he nudges that spongy spot that has your legs shaking a little harder where they wrap around his hips. “JJ..” You breathe, voice shaky against his skin.

“I got you..” He whispers softly against your neck, pressing soft kisses to the hollow of your throat, the underside of your jaw, the sensitive skin there, the soft flesh of your shoulders, anything he can get to. “I got you..”

His hands on your hip keep you steady, and when he shifts slightly again, the low moan you let out has him pressing his lips just below your ear. “There it is..”

You watches the ripple of the muscle in his shoulders, broad and so strong as he grins against your neck at the soft sound. Your tummy twists at that and you clench involuntarily around him again. “Uh-huh..” You whine softly, eyelids fluttering shut again, too overwhelmed by the pleasure.

“Yeah? There it is, huh baby?” He presses another kiss to the sensitive skin of your neck, fingers giving your hip a little squeeze.

You clench again, and he taps softly at your cheek and without even realising your eyes have fluttered open per his wordless request. “Yeah..”You whisper, voice all raspy and blissed out as you look up at him.

“Keep your eyes on me, yeah?” He whispers, fingers tracing softly over your jaw, “Lemme see ya..”

His own eyes are dark, the look of them almost feral with something deep and something primal. It’s the kind of look that is more than love, more than lust. It’s something you’ll never find with anyone else, no matter how hard you look. You’re it for him and everyone can see it from the look in his eyes. He’s obsessed, and he isn’t ashamed to admit it to himself.

“Okay.” You whisper tearfully, watchin’ him through dark, wet lashes, bottom lip trembling sweetly. “So full..” You whisper, head falling back against the pillow again, eyes fluttering shut as he keeps up his gentle rhythm. It’s almost laughable the way you completely disregard his soft order, so overwhelmed.

His eyes watch you, every twitch of your expression, and when your eyes flutter shut he gives your hip a little squeeze, his other hand gently moving to grip your chin, “Look at me…” He murmurs, voice a little firmer than before, “Don’t shut your eyes on me baby.. I want you to keep lookin’ at me, okay?”

“M’ tryin’..” You whisper, eyes fluttering open, immediately whining softly at the absence of his thumb to your bundle of nerves. He knows your body better than anything, and he knows his girl can only come from stimulation to that little button. He feels a little bad now.

“I know you are, baby..” He whispers, “Jus’ keep your eyes on me..”

His hand moves again, thumb pressing gently to your bundle of nerves as he watches your expression change the moment he does, eyes flicking between your face and the place his finger is touching. “There ya go..”

He presses a little harder now, he knows exactly what he’s doing to you. Exactly. He’s done it so many times he could do it with his eyes closed.

He throbs at the sight of that, the soft mewl that leaves her lips and the way she arches against his chest, he takes that opportunity to grab one of the purple velvet throw pillows and slide it under her hips to keep her at that perfect angle.

He’s watching you now, like a hawk, every muscle in his body so tense with the need to keep control of himself, wanting to make you fall apart before he does. “That’s it..” He murmurs softly, his hand moving to press against your tummy soft and light, “Just keep lookin at me, honey girl..”

He’s aware of the baby growing inside, only 4 months along as of now. He strokes softly over the skin and places a soft kiss to it. “Gon’ come, Jayj.” You whine softly, hands coming up to grip at his shoulders again.

“I know you are..” He murmurs into your skin, eyes fixed on your face, “Such a good girl.. so damn good…” He rubs at your bundle of nerves a little harder now, knowing what you need from him, knowing he’s on the right track, “Lemme see it baby girl.”

“S’ comin!” You whine, tears brimming in your eyes as you clamps down real right, distracting yourself with pressing your lips to a pink-ish scar on his peck. One that’s hard to talk about, because it’s from his dad.

His breath shudders against your skin at the feeling of your mouth on his scar, he’d never mention it to you, but it’s his favourite thing when you kiss him there, it makes his heart all warm and fuzzy, and he holds you just a little tighter. “That’s it.. go on.. I got you..”

He keeps rubbing gently over your clit, his own body trembling a little as he tries to keep control, your little mews being his undoing.

You feel his warmth fill you as he finishes with a groan, smaller legs trembling around him as you follow immediately after, spasming around him as you whines into his neck, like an injured little animal with those soft whimper and mewls.

Your fingernails dig in, one to his strong back and the other to his large bicep, the muscle tensing under her touch.

His big body tenses against you as he lets his weight drop to his forearms, his arms either side of your head, face against your neck, eyes closed. “Jesus Christ….” He whispers softly, “That was… baby..”

He takes a few deep breaths, trying to regain his brain function as he presses soft kisses to your neck and jawline, his hand coming up to softly stroke over your hip, your thigh. “You doin’ okay?..”

He feels you clench softly at the sound of his incoherent praise, brain all jumbled and peaceful but he’s still making sure you’re okay, because you’re the smaller one, and he knows orgasms effect you differently every time, some good, some bad, so he’s always there.

Your eyes are still closed, lips parted as you pant softly into the warm air of the bedroom, letting out a raspy, broken. “Uh-huh..”

He presses a single kiss to your sweat covered forehead, nuzzling his nose in softly, “Yeah?.. You sure? You’re not hurtin’ anywhere?” He’s concerned, checking in with you is second nature to him, and he’s gotta make sure he didn’t hurt you or anything, just in case, he needs to know.

He’s so goddamn gentle, and it kills you how he treats you with care and caution, always so goddamn careful with you because you’re delicate like a baby bird.

“No, ‘s okay.” You whisper, sniffling softly and he pressed another soft kiss to your closed eyelid. He knows he’s gotta check between your legs when he pulls out, something the doctor had warned him about after you’d had your baby a little over a year and a half ago, that up to two years after birth you could still be tender, and stitches could re-open, excetera.

He’s gentle and careful when he pulls himself out of you, his eyes dark as he looks down between your thighs where he’d been just moments ago, not that he hadn’t seen the place a million times before, but it’s always so goddamn beautiful to him. He gently spreads your legs a little, shifting to get a closer look, but from what he can tell it all seems okay.

Although a little deflated from the absence of him inside you, filling you up, you let him part your legs softly, watching the way his spend dribbles out of you, almost mesmerised and distracted from his task of checking you for any soreness.

He’s gentle, soft and loving as he presses a thumb over your core, pressing against your sore little bundle of nerves softly because he’s a goddamn tease, “Looks as though ‘n’s okay, you’re not bleedin’, but you’re a little swollen. Should go down in the mornin’.”

His fingers slowly push the mess dribbling from you back into you, eyes still dark as he looks up at you again, “You feel okay? You in any pain? Stingin’ or anythin’?”

You clench tight as he pushes it back inside your sore entrance, mewling softly. “No, everythin’ feels okay.” You murmur, eyes fluttering open as you watch him between your legs, forearm thrown over your sweaty forehead.

He pulls his hand away, gently running it up the length of your leg and over the softness of your tummy, leaning to press a soft kiss to the warm skin. “You sure?” He asks again, looking at you through dark eyelashes, and you know the man still wants reassurance, and you don’t mind obliging.

He pulls himself back up to lay above you, his big body encasing your smaller frame, fingers tracing over your hip bone as he looks into your eyes, “Didn’t hurt you, yeah?”

“I promise y’ didn’t.” You whisper, breathing softly as he rests his cheek comfortably against your thick upper thigh. He dots soft kisses along the underside of your slowly growing belly, running a big, warm, calloused hand over the soft skin.

“Gonna be the sexiest momma ‘round… f’ the second time..”

[buckybarnes82]

Silent treatment

Summary: You forget your annual plans with Bucky and instead of him telling you directly why he’s upset he gives you the silent treatment leaving you to figure it out for yourself.

Warnings and authors notes: Angst and the mention of anxiety medication. Alpine is also briefly mentioned.

Bucky wasn’t much of a talker. You did most of the talking 98% of your relationship, but you knew the difference between comfortable silence and intentional silence. Bucky sat at the kitchen table. His long hair was a knotty mess. He was wearing dirty pajamas. He was nursing his coffee mug and scribbling in a notebook. He flexed his hand, you assumed he had been writing for a while, and it was starting to hurt.

You noticed immediately that he hadn’t taken your mug out of the cupboard. You quietly sighed, standing on your tip-toes struggling to reach your mug, and turned to put the kettle on the stovetop to make your morning tea.

“Good morning. Did you have a long night? I didn’t hear you come in.” You mumbled awkwardly, wondering why he was so distant. Bucky hadn’t slept in bed with you last night, and you weren’t entirely sure when he got home. It was the first time since he moved in that he didn’t share a bed, and you couldn’t wrap your head around why.

He raised his eyebrows a little acknowledging your voice but didn’t respond, scratching at his beard before he stood up to leave, slamming the notebook shut dramatically. He pushed his chair in, intentionally making a loud screech against the kitchen floor.

“James? Hello?” You stepped to follow him but the kettle started to make noise, Bucky silently thanked the universe for its silent favor and walked to your shared bedroom, shutting the door behind him.

You leaned against the kitchen counter, dozing out as your tea bags steeped in your cup. You and Bucky rarely argued, you hated it when other couples said that but in this case, it happened to be true.

You took a sip of your tea, putting it back down on the counter before you quietly walked to your bedroom worried that if he heard you he’d bolt again. It startled you when Bucky opened the door quickly before you could come inside. He had a backpack on, tactical gear, and a pensive look on his face.

“Where are you going? It’s Sunday!” you hummed, the two of you usually spending the day in together.

“Just Sunday huh?” he mumbled, the only words he had said to you all morning. “Excuse me” he brushed past you softly, although he was frustrated his touch was still delicate and soft.

“We always have a movie marathon on Sundays” you potted and started to internally worry now that Bucky was obviously bailing on your usual plans. “Can you just tell me why you’re upset? So I can fix it? I don’t like that you’re mad.” You pleaded as he grabbed his keys off the hook on the wall.

“Not mad, just disappointed. I’ll be out with Sam, don’t wait up.” He finally looked at you, really looked at you and you could tell he had been crying by his swollen eyelids, but Bucky would never admit it. You stepped closer to him, and he held a hand up to stop you before leaving out the front door.

“What the hell” you groaned out loud, racking your brain as you sat down on the couch. Did I forget his birthday? No that’s in March. Did I forget our anniversary? No that’s in May. What the fuck? You turned the TV on trying to distract yourself but one of Buckys favorite movies flashed on the screen and now the pit of your stomach ached more intensely.

You stood up, walking to the bedroom again, and saw Alpine your fluffy white sidekick sitting on the corner of the bed. She loudly mewed at you, rubbing her body against yours as you stood in front of her.

“I know Al- I feel awful. I don’t know what I did and I don’t know how to fix it.”

You sat down on the bed and heard a loud thump hit the hardwood, peeking over the bed you saw Buckys journal, it must have fallen out from under his pillow. You picked it up, pausing for a moment before placing it back under his pillow without thinking when Alpine mewed again.

“I don’t think I should do that Alpine. It wouldn’t be right, that’s an invasion of your dad’s privacy” you sighed, as she licked your hand lovingly.

You spent the day cleaning the apartment, baking Buckys' favorite cookies, and meal prepping for the week for both of you. Bucky hadn’t checked in once, which felt like a twist of the knife. You text Sam to check in and he was very dry and to the point, which was expected but he let you know Bucky was alive and well and that’s all that mattered.

It was 8 pm when you heard the first loud boom outside of your apartment, followed by tons of follow-up commotion. Alpine scurried under your couch at the loud noise.

“What the hell?” You peeked out the window, thickly realizing it was big bright fireworks, illuminating the sky and finally everything came to a head.

“Oh my- is today Fourth of July?” You checked the date on your phone and suddenly you made the connection.

“I’m officially the worst girlfriend ever.”

You checked the oven a final time, making sure you had actually turned it off, and looked around for Buckys anxiety medication. The fireworks were by far his least favorite thing about today, and he didn’t have to say it out loud for you to know that, pocketing them as you ran out of your apartment frantic to go find him.

Bucky was in the lobby when you made it down from the elevator, your eyes wide as he was about to step inside it. He had in his noise-canceling headphones already and you dug in your pocket for the pill bottle as the elevator carried you both back to your apartment. He smiled softly at you, taking one headphone out, taking the medication from you, and realizing now that you finally understood what today was as he dry swallowed them.

“I’m so sorry baby. I didn’t realize it was that Fourth of July until I heard the fireworks. I didn’t mean to miss celebrating Steve’s birthday! I never meant to hurt you, you have to know that.”

The elevator doors opened and he followed you back inside your shared apartment.

“We celebrate his birthday a day early every year Y/N. It was your idea to keep his memory alive, a day all about Steve. We all waited for you at Sam’s last night.” His voice was laced with sorrow, which made the guilt eat you alive especially knowing everyone else knew you forgot too.

Bucky shuddered slightly when he heard a firework explode in the air. You shuddered at him using your real first name.

“I shouldn’t have to remind you to remember things that are important to me.”

“You’re right baby, you shouldn’t! And I’m so sorry. I’d never intentionally forget. I know how much Steve means to you. I’m so sorry, I really am.” Your lip trembled and Bucky finally looked at you, stepping toward you and wrapping his arms around you. You let out a sigh of relief at his touch.

“I know honey, I know that” he let out a breath, like he had been holding it all day. He started to rub your back as he held you close. He felt guilty for being so upset with you, and giving you the silent treatment instead of just talking to you about it.

“I should’ve talked to you instead of shutting you out, and I’m sorry for that” he admitted, pulling back to look you in the eyes, both of you having teary expressions.

“What if we celebrate tomorrow, just us? I can buy a cake and we can watch one of Steve’s favorite movies? I’ll even decorate the house! I’ll get some decorations on clearance!” You couldn’t help but giggle, knowing Bucky would happily oblige.

“I’d really like that” he leaned down, softly kissing your lips for the first time today, a wave of relief coming over both of you.

[mischievousmoony]

𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚌𝚑𝚊

⟢ james potter x fem!reader ⟢ james brightens your mornings working at the cafe with flirtatious remarks and your favorite drink ⊹ 1.7k ⟢ warnings/tags: james and reader do not like coffee, reader's hair is described to be in a ponytail, still frat boy!james but it doesn't come up ⟢ part 1 ⟡ part 2 ⟡ part 3 ⟡ masterlist

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

“Good morning, angel.”

It’s become a kind of ritual now—one of the first things you hear each morning when James triggers the little bell on the door at 7 o’clock on the dot.

You’ve started to look forward to your morning shifts at Brewology. Somehow, the usual noise—the whirring machinery, the too-bright lights, the over-caffeinated music—seems to fade the moment he walks through that door.

“So,” he starts one day, folding his forearms on your counter as he leans in. “If you don’t drink coffee, what’s your vice?”

“Matcha,” you answer, hands dropping from the POS system to rest idly on the table.

James glances up at the chalkboard menu, needing a refresher. “You get that here?” he asks.

Your nose scrunches up in the way that James has been waiting for the right moment to tell you is cute.

“Oh god no,” you say in disgust. “We have it,” you refine your answer, waving a hand in the air to dismiss the so-called matcha you sell here. “But it’s awful. Terrible. Trash. Fake matcha.”

“You’re a great saleswoman, I ever tell you that?” James muses.

You laugh heartily. You consider yourself lucky that no other customer or your manager was around to hear that.

“Where do you get your matcha, then?” James asks.

You give him the name of your favorite cafe in the world. “It’s off campus. Whenever I have the chance to go, I go. The matcha there is rich, creamy, umami goodness, and it’s the perfect deep green that it should be. What we have here? Sugared grass water. It looks like milk with a single drop of green food coloring.”

James has a soft sort of smile on his face as he listens to you passionately describe the differences between real matcha and the “garbage” you have here.

He likes when you’re like this—when you get so lost in a conversation because you have so much to say and so little time to say it to him. You get this wide-eyed look when you’re passionate about a topic, like you’ve just been injected with all the caffeine in the building. Sometimes, James is lucky enough to get you talking until the morning rush starts. Those days, he ends up leaving without even ordering a drink, but he’s not here for that, anyway.

“Noted. I’ll stay away,” James promises, finding a window to get a word in after you tell him Starbucks has even worse matcha than you guys. “I’ve never tried matcha, but you’ve convinced me I must. You’re not trying to get rid of me, though, are you? Get me hooked on some other drink, at some other place, so I can go bother some other barista for once?”

The mere idea of this scenario forms a pit in your stomach.

“You caught me,” you answer through fake laughter. “I do have a job to do, you know. And you’re very distracting. You’re gonna get me fired.”

“Fired!?” James gasps dramatically, springing upright and slapping his palms against the counter. “Oh, we can’t have that. This place would be nothing without you.”

“Exactly. Not to mention, I happen to like this job. Coffee sucks, but nothing beats a free breakfast.”

James hums in acknowledgment before pivoting, leaning back in as he speaks. “Can we rewind to the part where you called me distracting?” James says, his voice dropping to an intimate drawl.

You meet his eye, taking a moment to catch your breath. “Yeah,” you say, “you’re a real nuisance.”

“No, you didn’t mean it like that,” he says with complete certainty. James has too much confidence for his own good, and sometimes you think he just might be using it against you. The way he holds your gaze without flinching is almost unnerving. And that voice—low and smooth like silk—has your heart kicking harder in your chest.

“No, I did,” you insist, but there’s a layer of sarcasm in your tone. “You come in here just to bug me. First thing in the morning, too. You don’t even give me a chance to wake up.”

“Oh, you’re breaking my heart now, angel. Tell me you don’t mean it.”

Maybe it’s because you were already afraid you hadn’t poured enough sarcasm into your words, or maybe it’s the pang in your chest at the sight of his pout, that has you quickly conceding.

“No. I don’t mean it,” you say softly.

You want to tell him you love his company. That you go to bed giddy just thinking about seeing him the next morning. That thirty minutes a day while you’re on the clock isn’t enough for you.

But the bell on the door chimes. And chimes again. And chimes again. And a line starts to form behind him.

Neither of you can believe that thirty minutes passed so quickly. You check your phone and it’s 7:26. How dare these caffeine addicts steal your last four minutes?

“Guess that’s my cue,” James murmurs, but doesn’t move a muscle.

“You didn’t get a drink,” you realize.

“It’s fine,” he shrugs, readying himself to leave. “You’re about to have your hands full. I’ll see y-”

“Wait!” you say, a little too quickly. “Just—hold on.” You hold your hands out in front of you as you step back from the register, eyeing him to make sure he doesn’t go anywhere before turning to jog into the back room.

When you return, you’re holding an ice-cold can of Celsius you stored in the employee fridge, just for him.

His eyes light up. “Where’d that come from?”

“I got it for you.”

A customer behind James huffs, so he doesn’t have the time to be as grateful as he wants to be. A simple “thank you” is all he can offer right now, but he says it as if you’ve just handed him the world.

“You’re welcome. Now, get out of here. You’re holding up my line. Jeez,” you joke as if the delay is his fault.

James steps aside, letting the impatient customer get to you. But before he goes, he tries to do something sneaky.

“You can’t tip me for handing you a can!”

Of course, you caught him in the act.

“Think of it as me paying you back.”

“Well, you can’t pay me back for a gift!”

“Too bad!” he says, halfway out the door.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

You’re late for work the next day.

Your boss doesn’t mind half as much as James does.

James is already there, politely chatting with one of your coworkers as he waits for your arrival. When you finally rush in, still pulling your hair back, your apron flapping around untied, your coworker steps aside knowingly.

“There she finally is!” James sounds too excited for someone who’s supposed to be pretending to be mad at you. He quickly corrects himself, forcing his features into a frown.

“I’m only five minutes late,” you frown back, pulling the ties of your apron into a bow.

James swallows a stammer, the way the fabric now hugs your body catching his eye.

“Well,” he clears his throat. “I was here five minutes early, so you made me wait for ten minutes.”

“Oh, James. I think you’ll be okay.”

“That’s not the point. Your ice is melting!”

“What?”

James finally lifts his hands from where you didn’t notice he was hiding them behind the counter, and in them are two matcha latte’s from your favorite cafe in the world.

You gasp so sharply and so loudly that your manager pokes her head out from the back room briefly, and your coworker starts to chuckle.

“Good morning, angel,” James says when he finally hands you the cup. Snarkily, he adds, “See? That’s how we were supposed to start the day off.”

You aren’t listening. You’re too busy taking a long sip of what you consider to be liquid gold—eyes closed, completely blissed out.

“James, I love you,” you declare boldly in between sips.

Something in James short circuits. He knows how you meant it, but still.

He starts tripping over his words, his mouth forming syllables without having any actual idea of what he’d like to say. He counts himself lucky that you have the perfect distraction and don’t seem to notice his struggle.

“Did you try yours yet?” you ask brightly.

James swallows. “No, I was waiting for you.”

“Okay, I get it now,” you nod, putting your cup down. “It was criminal of me to make you wait, and I’m deeply sorry. Go on now!”

James finally brings the beverage to his lips, fully expecting this to be the best thing that’s ever graced his tastebuds.

He thinks it just might be. But his wires are still crossed, and he might be confusing how he feels about the drink with how he feels about the way you’re looking at him right now.

“It’s heavenly,” he says.

It is good, but maybe he’s overcompensating because he knows just how excited you’ll be when you hear this reaction.

You’re absolutely delighted, smiling like a little kid who was just given a pound of candy.

You pick up your cup, turning it over. “I knew you’d like it, it’s-”

Your words die in your throat and your heart drops when you see the ten digits scribbled across the plastic.

It’s stupid that this feels like a betrayal. If he wants to flirt with some other barista, he’s free to. That’s well within his rights. It’s not like he owes you anything, you tell yourself. He’s just a friend. Barely a friend, he’s just a customer.

You clear your throat, trying to mask your inner turmoil with a friendly jab. “I think whatever barista served you was trying to give you their number,” you muse through the pit in your stomach.

James’ eyes dart back and forth between you and the cup. “No.” His gaze settles on your eyes. “They didn’t.”

Your eyebrows draw together, momentarily confused—and then: “Oh.”

The corner of James’ mouth quirks up and he scratches the back of his neck anxiously. You look more shocked than anything else, and all he can do is hope it’s a good kind of shocked as he explains.

“I guess I got tired of waiting for you to write your number on one of my cups, so I took matters into my own hands.”

Your fingers drum on the plastic cup nervously. Excitedly.

“You could’ve just asked,” you say softly. “I would’ve given it to you in a heartbeat.”

James releases a shaky breath, his half smile growing into a grin.

“But this is more romantic, isn’t it?” he asks, gazing at you with a dreamy look in his eyes.

You could get used to that look.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

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