#But mostly James May

[w1ng3dw01f]

So, like, I’ve been noticing that I have adopted certain traits from both Sawyer AND Juliet (specifically/mostly the Season 5 versions of them).

It’s as if my OTP is just my second set of parents I guess??? Like I have absorbed them into myself.

Previously, when I was a child, that was Obi-Wan and Satine’s job (Star Wars), but now that I’m older, the sassiness, calm, strong-willedness and chaos has just evolved into a Sawyer and Juliet type beat.

A lot of other people tend to be like a combination of their favorite OTPs as well, like I know someone who’s an Arthur/Merlin guy and an Aziraphale/Crowley guy. I can definitely tell which parts of his personality are from each character. Mans is interesting.

So, anyway, what’s y’all’s favorite ships and do you think you at some point became blends of the characters in those ships?

[maskyartist]

i did it :) healing,,,, more ramblings in the tags

[postingcards]

the rms carinthia art card by james mann, postmarked 8 mar 1934

this card was sent by sid gary, a minor celebrity known in the '20s and '30s for his radio performances, vaudeville acts, and “powerful baritone voice.” in the second week of march 1934, he was heading the bill at loew’s century theater in baltimore, performing “ballads and impersonations of popular singers.” it is unknown if the “cunard line programs” he mentions were radio-based, or whether he was an entertainer aboard.

[crowwriting]

If I were the writers of ACGAS I would make some cozy lesbians with cute little sheep that James can help. They don't even have to be entirely original, I'm positive I could name a dozen chapters They could take inspiration from.

[whumpflash]

an approximation of Peter

[paradife-loft]

"I guess maybe some people just have a weird relationship with fear," says Gerard Keay.

......*delicate cough* :')

[wild-at-mind]

Honestly really upset about the James Somerton thing.

[avastyetwats]

Continued from here. @saltbeards

The stranger had captured Stede's attention from the moment he entered Jackie's Tavern. Perhaps not a stranger to Jackie and this tavern given their mutual greeting, but this was the first time Stede had ever seen him and he was instantly intrigued. Fascinated. Rarely during his time pirating had Stede met another pirate dressed as elegantly as he. Or with the same gentlemanly demeanor. Just who was he, Stede wondered, a smile pulling at his lips, finding it of great difficulty to pull his gaze away from the other. He walked the Tavern as though he owned it which told Stede that he was well known here, perhaps even greatly respected.

What stood out most to the blond Captain - aside from his refined attire - was his right hand. Or... lack thereof.

Was that a hook?

Oh, Stede was far more fascinated now. To the point where he stood from his chair and made his way over to him, only to be stopped by a much shorter man with a red hat, thin ovular spectacles and thick gray beard. He stopped Stede in his tracks, asking - or more like demanding - that he state his name and business that he had with his Captain and that was enough for Stede to guess that he was the first mate to the striking Pirate Captain behind him.

So, as asked, Stede introduced himself and did so with confidence and pride despite Lucius having advised him against such an introduction. He could hear his scribe's sigh of disappointment in his mind, but he chose to ignore it. The two of them seemed impressed, at least! Or maybe amused. Eh, close enough, wasn't it?

He's quite taken aback when the man introduces himself as the Gentleman Pirate and Stede isn't sure whether to feel miffed that someone else is using his title of the Gentleman Pirate or excited and that there's someone else like him. Someone well known and seemingly highly respected in the Pirate community as Stede longed to be. "This is the first I've heard of another Gentleman Pirate." He's intrigued - greatly so - and when the fellow pirate Captain shares enthusiasm in meeting him, Stede can't help but smile, feeling less bothered that someone else was using the title he - or so he thought - came up with and more eager to learn more about him. "The pleasure is mine, Captain Hook." Then Stede chuckles once he puts two and two together. "I see where the name might come from." He glances to his hook for a hand before he accepts his invitation and sits down. "Jolly Roger, was it? Quite a name for a pirate ship! It sounds, well... it sounds jolly." He grins, meaning it as a compliment even though it comes out as a play on words.

"So, Gentleman Pirate, you said? I never knew there was another with that title. Let alone another pirate with such refined taste." Another compliment, but also genuine surprise. "Where abouts are you from, if you don't mind my asking?" He couldn't help but inquire more about him, unable to hide his elation.

[demigodofhoolemere]

Watched the ACGAS 1983 special and I’m so confused about the timeline and what’s happened in the interim.

- They act like Tris ended up going away to war at some point, too, but he himself then seems to allude to having been doing the same job for years. Was he called up somewhere but in a vet capacity?

- They give the date as 1946 and yet Siegfried says they were away for four years, which is impossible when the season 3 finale was set in 1940.

- When did Helen have Jimmy? Has James been home at any point on a leave of some kind for that to have happened, or was Helen unknowingly pregnant at the end of season 3? Is James meeting his son for the first time or no? There are things that make it feel like they must be strangers to each other but other things that come across like they’ve interacted before.

- Helen is pregnant again, but it doesn’t feel like James has even been home long enough for her to already be far enough along that a doctor in 1946 could catch it yet. Granted, this special definitely seemed to be in the early season 1 style of weeks sometimes passing within one episode, but I feel like that was more the latter half of the special and that the first half was a little more day-by-day and Helen shouldn’t have known that already by that scene.

- Where does the backstory with Caroline fit? If Siegfried was upset about her going away only just when the war broke out, why would James not know of her, and when was that taking place relative to the Margery storyline? He seemed very in love with her but it would seemingly be around the same time that he was supposedly in love with Caroline who we never saw during that period. I am so confused about where she’s come from.

- I had to look up how long a Pekingese is pregnant for because that seemed very fast for that little dog to have already had the puppies when she wasn’t even pregnant yet at the start of this thing. It should apparently be 9 weeks, so dang, how long a time period is this special taking place over?!

[gay-simple-and-chaotic]

huge vent ramble under the cut (my love if you're seeing this I'm just trying to process and get it out there, no need to check up on me)

beginning to think I might actually not just be traumatized and depressed but also have a personality disorder because damn. quiet bpd and avpd both really strike some uncomfortable chords

but at the same time i have too much control for it to be bpd, but I have too much self esteem for it to be avpd,

but at the same time, it's worse than just anxiety because there's so many more layers to it like,

if it was just social anxiety, I probably wouldn't be so debilitatingly terrified of putting myself in a situation where someone might criticize me. (Yet at the same time I've been able to overcome it sometimes! It's uncomfortable, it's draining, and I avoid doing it, but I have done it)

if it was just anxiety, I would have a stable sense of who I am (but I'm young and autistic, right? There's time)

if it was just anxiety, surely I wouldn't spiral into panic when I attempt to set a boundary, and if setting it seems to annoy someone, surely if it was just anxiety, my first reaction wouldn't be to recoil and downplay, to minimize my upset and my struggling? (but that's fawn response, it could be an anxious attachment style, I know I have that)

if it was just any of it, surely I wouldn't be so utterly unable to believe someone when they said they liked spending time with me, when they told me to my face that they don't see me as a secondary/backup friend, right? That wouldn't be this persistent, all-encompassing fear, that even though I like myself (too much too much, have a big head, make yourself smaller or you'll be intolerable and they'll hate you they'll leave you) and generally don't take shit (but you're too outspoken, over dumb things, you're sensitive and you've taken to "voicing your needs" and you're going to push everyone away asking them to do inconsequential things that annoy them, like asking them to not be mean to your favorite character), and show my affection openly to my friends (TOO MUCH TOO MUCH you're going to suffocate them and they're going to leave even after all your attempts to keep them close because you're too much you're TOO MUCH) and love them a lot, surely it isn't normal to be paranoid about your friends having favorites, surely it isn't normal to feel like no matter how much you try to bridge an unspoken gap (that probably doesn't even exist, it's in your head, they were annoyed once and now you're assuming they're holding onto it as much as you are) they're always pulling away faster and faster because all they were waiting for was an excuse to ditch you,

panicking and spiraling and self deprecating, wanting to drive them away but being so afraid, you're not angry you're never angry (except when it's unreasonable and you're frustrated and you want to cry because it's all so unfair) you're just afraid, you want them to go but you NEED them to stay, the thought of them leaving feels like you're dying, your throat is tight and you're struggling to think or act right when it occurs,

god, surely that's not something someone's supposed to experience, right?

[blubparadox]

Oh Yeah - Quick Update

I'm not being a homestuck anymore, I quit. (its not like i ever posted here anyway, but if i ever post here again it will not be homestuck related, probably. hopefully.)

[luveline]

Jade can I please get a chatty af yapper sunshine girlfriend with Sirius?? Like May be someone tells her she talks a lot so she's super quiet around him cuz she's worried he'll get annoyed and break up with her but poor Sirius he misses his chatty girl and just angst with fluff

thank you for requesting! fem, 1.4k

James Potter means well. Honestly, you don’t think he has a mean bone in his body, so you try not to take it to heart. 

Unfortunately, your attempts to do so don’t work. They really, unquestionably don’t. By the time you’re outside of Sirius’ flat that afternoon, James’ small comment is all you can think of. 

“You’re so chatty I’m surprised you don’t run out of breath,” he’d said. Not without love. You’d bumped into him in Sainsbury’s and ended up talking for ages about one thing or another, you know him well, you’d even say you were friends, though he’s of course Sirius’ friend rather than your own. “But I’m the same. God, Sirius used to hate how much I talked, he’d be sick of me. I think I numbed him to it over the years.” 

You can’t imagine it. Sirius and James are best friends. With Remus, they’re the most in love threesome of friends you’ve ever met, and it’s nice; it makes you very proud to have a boyfriend who cares for others as deeply as Sirius cares for them. It’s like a constant demonstration of how he’s a good man. 

But you’d never stopped to consider that they weren’t always so seamless, and you’ve regrettably never considered that your constant talking is something that could put him off. 

You talk to Sirius about everything. There isn’t a word to describe the excitement of having someone waiting to listen to you every single night. You could tell him every detail of a day down to what colour socks you wore and you know he’ll sit there listening with his hand on the small of your back, or his fingers twined between yours. You’ve never felt so loved as to be able to just talk about everything and have him talk back. 

But… what if, this whole time, he’s been wishing for a little bit of quiet? 

What if eventually, the talking becomes too much? 

He must be with you for a reason. You aren’t holding the poor guy hostage, he acts like he’s mad for you ninety percent of the time (while the other ten percent is spent sleeping on your shoulder). 

Like now —you knock his door and you can hear him scrambling up from the sofa, the sound of a book dislodged or a remote hitting the rug, you’re not sure. The door yanks open and Sirius smiles at you, pulling you in through the gap with a familiar hand on your hip. 

“Hey,” Sirius says, tucking you against his side, “hey, did you get lovelier over the weekend?” He shoves the door closed and gives you a hug with one arm, pausing in the hall. “Sorry I couldn’t see you. I don’t think we should miss another weekend.” 

You have a lot to tell him. It’s been ages since you spent nearly three days apart, but James’ conversation stays at the front of your mind. 

You decide to be less overwhelming, but not less loving, curling your arm behind his head to pull his cheek down for a kiss. “I don’t think so, either.” 

Sirius tilts his head away from you in an invitation for more kissing. 

You’re at home in his flat. You take off your shoes and hang up your jacket. You change into a pair of jogging bottoms with loose legs and let him hoist you onto his bed for a few stolen kisses, though he isn’t propositioning you, and you end up laying across his bedspread with one of your legs in his lap as he tells you about his days without you, his thumb sliding with pressure down your calf. 

“Mostly I wished I’d asked you to come over anyways, even if it was just to sleep together at the end of the day. Maybe next time we can do that?” he asks. 

“Of course we can.” You smile at him indulgently. “I’d come over for twenty minutes if it was all I could get.” 

“Or I can come to you,” he says, “even if it’s just twenty minutes.” 

He smiles, a beaming thing, and leans down slowly for a soft kiss. 

“So,” he asks, his breath on your lips, “how was your weekend? Lonely?” 

“So lonely,” you tease lightly, eyes fluttering closed as he continues his massaging of your leg. “But it was okay. I missed you, really, and didn’t do much else.”

“No?” he asks. 

Your voice takes on a shine as he squeezes your knee, “Missed your hands.”  

“I missed your everything.” He grabs for your forearms and pulls you into a sitting position. “But everything was okay?” he asks more seriously. 

“Everything was fine.” 

He raises his eyebrows, but eventually lets them relax. “Well, okay. Good, sweetheart, I’m glad it was okay.” 

He persuades you into the kitchen to sit with him as he makes dinner, refusing to let you help, and yet insisting you be there in the same room, as though you’d like to be anywhere else. Sirius makes your favourite of his usual rotation, offering you spoonfuls for tasting, gaps of silence stretching as he struggles to find new conversation. You start answering his questions but remember time and time again that Sirius could become totally sick of you. He might already be. 

Sirius puts the food on a low heat and washes his hands. He wipes them dry, but when he takes your face, dampness lines the inside of his fingers. 

“I’d like for you to tell me what’s wrong,” he says gently, stroking at the line of your startled frown, “before it gets worse. Do you want to talk about it?” 

“Nothing’s wrong.” 

“Please don’t, lovely. If I’ve done something wrong, please tell me. I want us to last forever, and we can’t do that if you won’t tell me when I upset you.” 

“It wasn’t you,” you say instinctively, then regret it. 

“So someone has?” he asks, still so gentle as his hands coast down your neck like he’s sculpting you, coming to rest on the slopes leading to your shoulders. “You can tell me anything. You don’t have to keep it to yourself… please.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“Sweetheart.” He frowns deeply. Couldn’t look more upset. “Of course I’m sure. Why wouldn’t I be?” 

You chew it over, not wanting or willing to cause ructions between Sirius and his oldest friend. “Well, I saw James today at the shop, and… we were talking about you…” 

He waits. “And?” 

“And he told me you– you don’t like talking. That you didn’t like talking, that James used to make you sick of it. So I know I talk too much and you’ve never made me feel like I shouldn’t, but I guess I got into my head thinking you’d get sick of me, too.” 

“When we were younger I didn’t like much of anything.” He curls an arm behind your neck to hold you in place, but it’s not a dominant sort of movement, only protective as your noses inch together. “Did you ever read that poem by Bukwoski? Let It Enfold You?” 

“What?” 

“I’m not very good at explaining myself. I thought if you knew the poem, you’d–” He laughs near your cheek. “I hated everything. It wasn’t James’ fault. He did make me sick of it sometimes, but I just wanted to hide from everything.” He breathes out slowly. “I’ve never wanted to hide from you. I can’t get sick of you. Do you get that? I can’t get sick of you. Listening to you is the best part of my day, you’re my personal chatterbox.” 

“Chatterbox,” you repeat teasingly. 

“You could talk for Wales,” he says. “And I love it, I don’t want you to stop, because I’ll never be sick of it.”

“I don’t want it to be some secret resentment.”

“I don’t resent you for anything. I knew exactly who you were when we met and I love it.” He takes your face again. “I love it,” he repeats. 

You steal a little kiss against the corner of his lips. “What was the poem?” you ask. 

“I’ll find my book, and you can read it to me. What do you think?” He takes a slow kiss as you had in the same place, words like honey. “I miss your voice.” 

He’s basically pleading. It’s not like Sirius to plead, but you pull it out of him. 

“Can I have my dinner first?” 

“The one I made while you deprived me?” he asks. “Yes, if you must.” 

He takes another kiss, but you’re happy to give it. 

[lackadaisycats]

I hope you know that literally nobody is going to be able to live up to the standard you, V*v, and Glitch have set and your arrogance and exploitation of your fanbase and connections has screwed millions of creatives out of their dreams because Hollywood is a joke that isn't worth telling and wealthy e-celebs like yourself have claimed the indie scene all to yourselves and moved the goalposts into the stratosphere.

Nope. This isn't a zero sum game. There is not some limited, prescribed number of indie trophy slots that a few studios greedily filled up, blocking everyone else out. That is not how it works. Nothing any other creator is doing - short of personally sending hired goons to your doorstep or stealing your credit cards - is taking anything away from you or preventing your success. In fact if an indie creator can manage to demonstrate that they've got something viable going, it may help to map out a pathway for others.

I think I'm not going to bother trying to address whether or not cartoons in return for support from fans - an entirely voluntary exchange - constitutes exploitation. And I'm living in the Midwest driving a 2007 economy car with 200k+ miles on it, but let's just skip past the assumptions that I'm wealthy and connected too.

Instead, let's get to the weirdly myopic notion that the indie scene is held captive by three studios. Maybe YouTube algorithms or Twitter bubbles are somewhat to blame, but in actuality there are so, so many individual people, friend groups, and small production houses out there making independent animation, I cannot possibly name them all.

Here are some anyway:

Far-Fetched Worthikids Satina | Scumhouse Noodle and Bun Punch Punch Forever Ramshackle Noodle Papajoolia | Pipi Angel Hare | The East Patch Jonni Peppers Salad Fingers Monkey Wrench Studio Heartbreak Felix Colgrave JelloApocalypse Odd1sout (started indie, got picked up by Netflix) Allie Mehner JaidenAnimations Lumi and the Great Big Galaxy Cloudrise | The Worlds Divide Telepurte RubberRoss James Lee ENA Godspeed | Olan Rogers Ollie and Scoops Meat Canyon Port by the Sea Kekeflipnote Boxtown Kevin Temmer Weebl Joel Haver CircleToons Long Gone Gulch Atlas and the Stars Animist Skibidi Toilet A Fox in Space Alex Henderson Talon Toniko Pantoja Sr. Pelo Hullabaloo Kane Pixels (started indie, picked up by A24) Homestar Runner Fennah Gods' School Alan Becker Dungeon Flippers JazLyte Psychicpebbles (started indie, Smiling Friends picked up by AS) Piemations vewn Metal Family Dead Sound chluaid Jacknjellify Betsy Lee | No Evil My Pride Cranbersher GeoExe | Gwain Saga Horatio the Vampire Mech West Playground | Rodrigo Sousa The Brave Locomotive Finchwing (+ many other Warrior Cats animators) Quazies SamBakZa Kamikaze: Trial by Fire

By no means a full list. That's just YouTube, and mostly just English language stuff, and I didn't even get to the multitudes of Warrior Cats animation collabs.

The point is, the indie landscape is vast and populated by creators new and old, making all kinds of animated media from skits, to shows, to ARGs, to films. Audience sizes vary as much as the content, stylistic approaches, subject matter, and budgets do. There are no compliance standards, no gateways to entry, no goalposts. There's not even any preset definition of success except what you decide for yourself.

Anyway, instead of nurturing your resentments, consider making something. I assure you, it's a far more rewarding use of your time and energy, and pretty much no one can stop you. ------------- EDIT- Made some additions to the list based on comments. Thanks!

[bucksangel]

run little bunny

pairing: softdark!ceo!bucky x naive!assistant!reader

word count: 8.6k

summary: Being John Walker’s assistant is hard; he’s mean, disrespectful, misogynistic, the whole nine yards. On top of that, he hardly pays you fairly. So, when you’re fired for a mistake you’re sure wasn’t your fault, you’re at risk of being kicked out by your rude roommates. Luckily for you, James Barnes, a wildly successful CEO, has found his way into your life. And he’s going to take such good care of you.

warnings: where do i even start, 18+, minors DNI and i fucking mean it, mild coercion, some of it could be interpreted as stalking, fingering, unprotected p in v sex, sir kink, oral (f receiving), housewife kink, breeding kink, pet names (bunny, darling), dirty talk, dom!bucky and sub!reader, choking, squirting, basically just absolute filth, a little hurt-comfort, reader’s roommates are awful and mean, not john walker friendly but when am i ever

a/n: so this was supposed to just be some quick smut but as always i went overboard, so please enjoy! likes and comments are appreciated, reblogs are even better!

tip jar | main masterlist | ao3 | run little bunny masterlist

Your hands are shaking slightly, your heartbeat races with anxiety, and your leg bounces rapidly. Today is an important day after all, and your boss has made it clear that if you mess up in any way then he’d have to rethink your employment. That sent dread flooding through your body, so you’ve been preparing yourself for the last week to make sure everything for the meeting is perfect.

And, on the technical side, everything is immaculate - mostly due to you staying up until almost midnight each night to polish the presentation. You thought everything was done properly, but when you’d walked into the building that morning your boss was holed up in his office finishing up his portion of the work, so you’d decided to simply email him to let him know that you had arrived.

Everything was perfect. But when you get into the meeting room, your boss’ eyes go wide, anger clouding them while he scowls. You quickly make your way to his side, only for him to bark out a command for you to grab water for his incoming guests. Placing your notebook on the table, you turn to scurry off to the side to grab the glasses, but you’re stopped when your boss grabs your arm harshly.

“Do you have a change of clothes?”

“Um… Um, I-“ Your boss raises an eyebrow, and you feel like you might throw up from the sudden anxiety. “No, sir.”

He scoffs, muttering under his breath something about looking “trashy,” before releasing you and allowing you to go to the minibar.

Your arm stings, no doubt sporting a red mark because of how harsh the grip was. You’re also confused because you thought the floral dress you’d chosen was pretty. Sure, it may not be high class, but your boss has never had a problem with it before, but you’re assuming that he’s on edge due to who he’s meeting with.

James Barnes; the most powerful and successful CEO in the entire country. You haven’t met him personally, but from what you hear you know that he’s not someone you want to upset. According to the hushed whispers around the office, he stands at a towering 6’6, tattoos cover his arms and hands, and if he frowns then you better move out of the way.

Would Mr. Barnes be upset with your attire?

You desperately hope not, because you need this job. While you can barely make your rent and utilities, you don’t have any other job lined up, and you’re way too scared to ask for a raise from a man who so clearly disrespects you. For right now, though, you’re stuck.

The oak doors open, and one of the office assistants steps off to the side while holding the door open for several men to walk in. You hear him before you see him. You’ve never heard his voice, but the commanding tone he uses when he addresses your boss lets you know that it must be him.

“Hello, Mr. Walker,” Mr. Barnes greets him, and you can hear your boss stand and greet him as well.

You’re trying your hardest to keep calm while you walk toward the table with a platter holding several glasses of water. You do your best to place them in front of the men without showing how nervous you are.

But when you get to Mr. Barnes, you nearly spill the drink all over the table once you get a whiff of his clearly expensive cologne. Oh, how you’d love to be surrounded by that scent, the woodsy smell almost intimidates you but you’re unsure as to why you don’t mind.

You’ve never done anything even remotely sexual with a man, you’re far too awkward and anxious in a way that isn’t too appealing to many, but for a very brief moment, you wonder what he looks like underneath the black three-piece suit — the prominent veins on his hands insinuates that the rest of his body is probably just as toned. But you’re immediately snapped out of your thoughts by your boss’ harsh voice calling your name.

“Aren’t you going to greet our guests?”

You breathe in sharply, heat flooding your face as you stumble your way through an apology and a polite “Hello, Mr. Barnes.”

You’re about to leave his side when he reaches out to grasp your hand — surprisingly gentle for such a powerful man. With a slight jump, you glance over to your boss who’s staring at you as though you’re becoming a nuisance and should quickly get back to your chair beside his. But you can’t, both because of Mr. Barnes’ hold and the fact that when you look back at the man in front of you his ocean-blue eyes pull you in, and you’re unable to break your gaze.

“And who might you be, darling?” His eyes twinkle with mischief but you’re too blind to see it, you’re too flustered to really focus.

“Oh, you don’t need to worry about her, she’s just –”

“I wasn’t asking you,” Mr. Barnes snaps, briefly glancing at your boss and not bothering to hide his smirk when he almost visibly cowers. “Now, darling,” he continues, rubbing the back of your hand with his thumb. “What’s your name?”

You nearly squeak, having to force yourself to tell him your name before he gets upset with your lack of answer.

Mr. Barnes hums, then brings your hand up so he can place a delicate kiss on your knuckles. “A pretty name for a pretty girl.”

You flounder for a moment, unsure as to what to make of the compliment. You don’t have much time to overthink it because this meeting has a time limit and you’re sure your boss would prefer to get this over with.

“Th-Thank you, sir.” You’re not sure why, but your voice is breathy because something about that word — sir — just feels right for him, though you’re not sure what it means.

“So polite,” He mumbles to himself, and his eyes seem to grow darker. Finally, he lets you go, shooting you a wink and smirking to himself when you scurry off to sit next to your boss.

The presentation went relatively smoothly — thank God. You don’t know what you would have done if anything went wrong. In fact, Mr. Barnes seemed extremely invested in what you had to say, catching your gaze several times and causing you to stumble over your words a few times, only for your boss to clear his throat and glare at you. Eventually, Mr. Barnes throws him his own glare, silently telling him to shut up, to which your boss finally does.

Once the meeting was declared to be over, you were quick to close your notebook and tuck your pen behind your ear, then you went around the table and started collecting the now-empty glasses. As you’re running around the room trying to clean up, you can feel a powerful gaze boring holes into your body, but you try not to pay it any mind. It’s probably just your boss anyway.

But when you turn away from the desk to finally leave, you bump into Mr. Barnes, your body nearly slamming into his very sturdy chest. His hands shoot to your hips almost immediately, helping to steady yourself.

The warmth of his body pulls you in, but that might also be because Mr. Barnes is literally bringing you closer to his chest by the hold he has on your hips. And that’s when you realize that your hands are clutching his shoulders, but you can’t find it in you to let go.

“What’s the rush?” He asks playfully, his upper lip quirking up in a smirk. “You’re running around like a little bunny.”

“Oh, oh I’m sorry, Mr. Barnes.” You’re not sure why you’re apologizing, you recognize that he’s just teasing, but something in you doesn’t want to disappoint him. 

“Mr. Barnes.” He hums, his eyes briefly glancing down to your lips. “I like it when you call me that.”

Now you’re really flustered, your face heats up and you have to do everything in your power not to faint — the way his voice deepens is doing something to you and you don’t know how to handle it.

“I’d like it a lot more if you called me James, though. Can you do that for me, bunny?” 

“Ye-Yes, James.” You might have been embarrassed about how quick you were to answer him, but the way he closes his eyes and tightens the hold he has on your body you’re thinking it was the right decision.

Mr. Barnes — James — opens his mouth again, but is interrupted by the door being opened by one of the office assistants, whose eyes immediately go wide in shock. It seems to take a second for her to gather her bearings, but she recovers soon enough.

“Mr. Walker is requesting you,” She tells you, glancing over at James and giving him a nervous smile. “He says you have to file all of the paperwork for the meeting.”

You sigh, you’re tired of having to do everything for your boss only for him to take credit ninety percent of the time. But, it’s what you’re paid to do, so you suck it up. 

Looking back to James, you give him a shy smile, reluctantly removing your hands from his shoulders. 

“Um, I guess I should go, James.” You’re a little sad, and you don’t quite know why having to leave him and go back to your duties makes you so anxious. It could be because Mr. Walker is mean, or maybe because James makes you feel safe. In reality, it’s probably a mixture of both.

“I guess you should,” He murmurs, removing one of his large hands from your waist so he can cup the back of your neck and pull you closer, only for him to press a lingering kiss on your forehead.

And absolutely no one can blame you for the quiet whimper that leaves your lips, even though you are surprised by your reaction. It doesn’t matter though, because he finally moves back, letting go of you and reaching into the pocket on the inside of his suit jacket so he can pull out what looks like a business card.

“Here,” James says, handing it to you. “In case you ever want to talk, you’re always free to call me.”

“What would we talk about?” Your confusion causes James to chuckle, and he seems amused by your naivety.

“Whatever you want, Bunny. Whether you just want to talk about nonsense or vent about your boss. Doesn’t matter to me as long as I get to hear your beautiful voice.”

With that, he gives you a wink, then turns to the door and leaves, though he does glance back at you. With one final smile, he leaves, and you’re left with a million racing thoughts while standing in the middle of the meeting room.

It took three days for you to finally reach out to James. As soon as you got home that night you ran to your bedroom and added his number to your phone, going so far as to put his business card in your bedside table drawer so you wouldn’t lose it. It just took a little time to gain the courage to actually contact him. After all, what if he was just being friendly? You’ve never met anyone quite like him, so it’s hard to read into his actions.

But today had gone horribly. The café you frequent before work was so busy that you didn’t have time to grab your coffee without being extremely late, the bistro you were demanded to pick up lunch from was closed — and while it wasn’t your fault, Mr. Walker certainly seemed to think it was. Your workload was piled high and by the end of the day, you were on the verge of crying due to the stress and mean comments thrown at you by your boss.

You need a shoulder to lean on and, unfortunately for you, you don’t have anyone else to go to. You’re pretty sure your roommates hate you and only let you live with them because they haven’t found a new roommate yet, you don’t have siblings and your parents are states away, and you have maybe a few friends, but even then the communication is scarce.

You need a shoulder to lean on, and James offered his, so you finally decided to pull up his contact and start a new message. It takes several minutes to figure out what to say, but you eventually settle on something simple.

Hi, James. I don’t know if you remember me, but I’m Mr. Walker’s assistant. You gave me your number in case I ever wanted to talk.

You hit send and stare down at your phone anxiously as you wait for a reply. A minute goes by, then two, suddenly five, and then you’re starting to regret texting him, what if he doesn’t remember you? What if he’s busy? What if – 

Your phone starts ringing, James’ name popping up on the screen and taunting you — almost commanding you to answer.

“Hello?”

“Good evening, bunny,” James says softly, and if you press your ear close enough to your phone you could pretend that he’s right next to you.

“Hi, James. I hope I’m not disturbing you.” Your voice is soft and timid, you’d hate to disrupt anything he’s doing.

“Don’t be silly, bunny,” He says, his smile evident in his tone. “I always have time for you.”

“Oh, um. Thank you, sir.” It’s almost indescribable, but you can just make out the soft curse James lets out, followed by some shuffling.

“So, what did you want to talk about?”

You’re a little apprehensive, but with James’ gentle encouragement, you’re able to get everything off your chest, complaining about your day and everything that went wrong. Each word spoken feels like weights lifting off of your shoulders, allowing you to breathe easier every time James hums. He doesn’t interrupt you, which you greatly appreciate, and by the time you’re done, you fall backward onto your bed, relieved.

“I’m sorry you had such a bad day, bunny,” James coos with his smooth-as-honey voice, filling your body with warmth and comfort. “A pretty girl like you doesn’t deserve to be treated like that.” That comment floods your face with heat and you shuffle up the bed to lean against the headboard.

“Oh, I - thank you, sir.” There it is again, sir. James exhales slowly as though he’s trying to control himself from doing something he shouldn’t, and part of you is momentarily worried that you’ve upset him somehow. You don’t want to disappoint him.

“What can I do to help?”

What can he do to help? You’re not quite sure, you’re not sad, and you’re not angry, but you would be lying if you said you didn’t need at least a hug right now. But, it would be too imposing to ask, right? There’s no way he would be willing to come over – that is, if your roommates would even allow him over. And he certainly wouldn’t invite a stranger into his house. So, you lie to him.

“Oh – Oh, no, James, I don’t – you don’t have to – it’s fine –”

“Bunny.”

Your mouth promptly closes, taking a deep breath through your nose and exhaling slowly.

“Sorry, James.”

“Don’t be sorry, bunny.” There’s some shuffling in the background as he talks and you can’t help but sigh at how sincere his voice is. “Now, what can I do to help?” And before you can even open your mouth he’s talking again, “Don’t say nothing, because I know there’s something you want.”

You’re silent for a moment, stewing over how to tell him. But, he’ll probably just be empathetic and say something along the lines of ‘I’d hug you if I were there right now’. So, you decide to just spit it out.

“I guess I just want… I just need a hug, I think,” You sigh, feeling a sudden sense of loneliness. It’s hard not having anyone to talk to, to be isolated even from the people you live with, to be put down time and time again, and not have anyone to support you.

“Where are you?” James asks, and you hear some more shuffling in the background, followed by the jingling of what sounds like keys.

“I’m at my apartment,” You say, confused. He couldn’t possibly be coming over, could he?

“Send me your address and I’ll come pick you up, we’ll go out for ice cream,” James says decisively, and you can tell he doesn’t want any protesting. “Bunny,” He says when you don’t say anything. “You need cheering up and I’m here to do just that. Please send me your address.” He speaks gently but once again, he doesn’t seem to want you to argue against it.

“O-Okay, I will.”

“Good, I’ll see you soon, bunny.” When you bid him goodbye, he hangs up, and you’re quick to send him your address, giving him instructions to text you when he arrives so you can meet him out front of the building.

During the next twenty or so minutes you’re practically running around your room trying to make yourself look presentable. You cried all of your makeup off so you opt to just wash the rest of it off, and then you pull your hair back and away from your face. It takes a bit to decide what to wear, after all this is just a friend taking another friend to get ice cream, but this is also James Barnes; he has more wealth than you could possibly imagine. You want to impress him and appear grateful for his friendliness, and looking at least half-decent would achieve that.

Finally, someone knocks on your door, yelling, “Someone’s here for you!”

With a rush of excitement, you grab your phone and wallet and slip on your shoes, then make your way out of your room to the front door where another roommate is standing in front of it, leaning against the frame and giggling at the person.

James.

He looks bored, almost like he’s trying to appear interested but can’t quite muster up the energy to do so. When you approach, he lifts his head, a wide smile crossing his face.

“There’s my little bunny,” He says confidently, completely ignoring your annoyed roommate. “Come on, let’s get you cheered up.”

With that you walk to him, timidly accepting his outstretched hand and letting him gently tug you into the hallway. When you turn around to tell your roommate that you’ll be back later you can’t even get a word out before you see her glaring at you and shutting the door — the click of the lock is audible through the empty hallway.

“Are they always like that?” James asks with a tone that conveys concern.

“Like what?” You know what he’s talking about, but you hate acknowledging it.

“Rude and disrespectful.” He is so blunt that it causes you to look down in embarrassment to avoid his intense gaze.

Yes, you want to say, they’re awful. You want to shout from the rooftops that your roommates are horrible to you, but you’re just too scared to do it.

“Oh – Oh, no, they’re just…” You trail off, peeking up at James to see the disbelief in his eyes. When you look down again, he brings up one of his hands to cup your cheek and guide your head up so you can look at him head-on.

“You don’t need to lie to me, bunny. I want you to trust me.” James sighs, leaning forward and placing a small kiss on your forehead. “Come on,” He squeezes your hand, smiling softly at you as he starts walking you out of the building and to his car.

It doesn’t take long to get to the ice cream shop, only a five-minute drive, and when you get there James keeps the car locked as he gets out so he can circle around to your side and open your door for you.

“Th-Thank you,” You say as you put your hand in James’ outstretched one, letting him guide you out of the car. He keeps his hold on your hand as you walk into the shop, going so far as to thread your fingers together while you wait in line.

The image of your hand encompassed by James’ large tattooed one has your tummy fluttering with butterflies. But, you must have been staring for a little too long because you’re broken out of your trance by James gently squeezing your hand.

“Is this okay, bunny?”

“Yes!” Heat floods your face as soon as you say it, feeling embarrassed by how quick you were to answer. “I, I mean. Um… Yes, it’s okay.”

James smirks at you, clearly enjoying how flustered you are. But, before you can stew in your shame, the man behind the counter says, “Next!”

You walk up to the counter, letting James order before giving yours. And when it’s time to pay, James doesn’t even drop your hand while he fishes his wallet out of his pocket and takes out his card. Your tummy flutters once again.

“Come, bunny.”

With your desserts now in hand, James leads you to a corner booth, only letting go of your hand so you can scoot in. He sits across from you, looking at you with what can only be described as thinly veiled hunger. It’s not off-putting, you just don’t know what it means.

“So, um…” You trail off looking down at your bowl of ice cream, fiddling with the spoon they gave you.

“You don’t need to be nervous, bunny,” James coos, reaching over and placing his hand palm up on the table, and you’re helpless but to take it, practically aching to feel his warmth again. “Now, other than everything that happened today, how have you been?”

It’s surprisingly easy to fall into a pleasant conversation with him, he asks questions and lets you finish talking before adding his own input, and he doesn’t break eye contact. It feels like he’s really listening to what you’re saying, and it’s almost freeing to have someone in your corner, someone you can trust and depend on.

What feels like far too soon, though has probably been several hours due to how dark it is outside, the man behind the counter comes to your table to tell you that they’re closing soon, and you can’t help but be sad. You’re enjoying James’ company far more than you probably should since you’ve only known him for a handful of days. It almost seems like you’ve known him your whole life.

“Well, bunny. I guess it’s time to go,” James says remorsefully, getting up out of the booth and reaching out his hand to help you out of the booth as well. He keeps holding your hand while you walk out of the door — making sure to throw away your trash on the way out.

James insists on opening the car door for you again — ever the gentleman. There’s a comfortable silence on the drive back to your apartment, your stomach swirling the entire time because James refuses to drop your hand. But when you get to your apartment building, a small amount of anxiety settles inside you, and you’re desperately hoping your roommates are asleep because you don’t feel like dealing with them after you’ve had such a good evening.

The silence is a little more tense while you ride the elevator up to your floor, but you’re grounded by James’ touch. It’s not until you get to your front door that you really look at him, staring into his twinkling eyes. And when he smiles, it settles your nerves.

“I guess this is the end of our night, bunny,” He says, squeezing your hand one last time before dropping it. Before you can mourn the loss of his touch he’s wrapping you in his arms and pulling you close to his chest, and you desperately hope he doesn’t hear the squeak you let out. You wrap your arms around his waist, letting James tuck your face into his neck while he holds you close.

“I had a wonderful time tonight,” James murmurs, pressing a lingering kiss on your forehead.

“Me too,” You say softly, breathing in and inhaling his comforting scent. “Thank you for cheering me up.”

“Of course, bunny. I’m always here for you.” Then, James pulls his head back so he can look into your eyes. “Always.”

You can’t help but smile. His gaze is hypnotizing, pulling you in and almost refusing to let you go.

“Thank you, James,” You breathe out, and one last time, James squeezes you and kisses your forehead, then steps back.

“I’ll talk to you soon, bunny?” James asks, smiling wide.

“Y–Yeah, I’ll text you. Or you can text me. Or call, that’s–that’s fine too.” Heat floods your face in embarrassment, but you don’t feel too bad about it because James only smiles wider, nodding once.

“I will.”

“Goodnight, James.” With that, you turn and unlock your door, turning around to look at James one last time as you shut the door.

“Goodnight bunny, I hope you have dreams as sweet as you are.” James winks, and you swear you can hear him chuckle when you squeak out an “o-okay,” and shut the door.

And maybe James is some kind of wizard because you have the best night of sleep you’ve had in a while.

For the next few weeks you and James text almost every day, and talk on the phone every couple of days. You’ve met up with him a few times as well, accepting his invitations to lunch or coffee. Each outing would last for several hours, too enraptured by his… everything to be the one to suggest the night should end. You’ve come to trust him, you know with a possibly concerning amount of certainty that James would do everything possible to keep you happy and safe.

Roughly a month and a half after meeting James, you’re sitting on your bed in the same position you were in when you first called him crying. Unlike last time, though, you don’t hesitate to call him. He’s told you time and time again that it doesn’t even matter if he’s in a meeting, he’ll always make time for you. You just hope that’s true.

He picks up almost immediately.

“Hello, bunny,” James says with the same soft tone he always uses when talking to you.

“H-hi, James,” You manage to say, before breaking out into sobs. You’re nearly hyperventilating, trying and failing to catch your breath between hiccups, and it takes a few minutes to calm down enough to hear rustling in the background on James’ end.

“Are you at home?” He asks with the utmost concern.

“Ye-Yes.”

“Stay there,” He says, using what you’ve deemed his CEO voice. “I’m coming to get you.”

“Ja–”

“Bunny.”

You sigh, knowing you can’t change his mind – not that you really want him to. You could really benefit from a hug right about now and James always provides the best ones.

“Can you at least stay on the phone with me?” Your voice is small, still sniffling every few words. You don’t think you could handle being alone with your own thoughts right now.

“Of course. You know I’ll do anything for you.”

It takes James twenty minutes to get to you, and he talks to you the whole time, just menial things to get your mind off of your sadness. When he lets you know that he’s at your apartment, you don’t even wait for him to tell you he’s coming up, you simply grab your jacket and slip on your shoes, then run to the front door without so much as a word to your roommates in the living room.

“James!” Upon seeing the man himself standing next to his car, you fling yourself into his arms, taking deep breaths to prevent yourself from crying in public. “Thank you for coming.”

“Bunny, how many times do I have to tell you that I’ll do whatever it takes to keep a smile on your pretty face?” James’ tone is teasing, but you know he’s serious if his stern and concerned gaze is anything to go by.

You nod, blinking back tears. It’s so nice to have a friend like James Barnes; kind, chivalrous, attentive. With the way he acts sometimes, you’d almost think he’s interested in more than friendship, but you always shake that thought off. He’s too handsome and wealthy to date some random personal assistant who’s barely able to make her rent.

“Come on, bunny,” James moves back but keeps an arm wrapped around your waist, leading you to his car and helping you in. Like always, he waits for you to sit so he can strap you in your seatbelt, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead before shutting the door then running around to the driver's seat.

This time, instead of taking a left at the light at the end of your block, he keeps going forward, taking turns until you’re not exactly sure where you are.

“Um, where are we going?”

“My house,” James says casually, briefly glancing at you so he can give you that ever-soft smile.

“But, isn’t your house only twenty minutes away?” You’re confused, and a little curious as to what he’s talking about.

“I only stay there when I have meetings in the city. I have a house a little further out where I live most of the time. It’s a little more lived-in, so I want to bring you there where you’ll feel a little more…” James pauses for a moment, glancing at you again. “At home.” His explanation makes sense in your brain, quickly squashing any nerves that you had. He’s rich, so of course he’d have multiple houses.

It’s almost an hour long drive to get to his house. Well, house feels like an inappropriate term for what it actually is. It’s more like a mansion, standing tall at three stories, a long driveway with trees lining either side of the road, and a luscious garden surrounding the property.

James helps you out of the car and guides you up the steps to the front door, where he unlocks it and lets you step inside. The moment you pass through the threshold your jaw nearly drops to the floor; a large chandelier hangs from the ceiling right when you step in and beautiful artwork adorns the walls. The open floor plan gives you a good view of the living room and kitchen from your vantage point, and you can’t wait to sink into the luxurious and almost comically large couch in front of the TV.

“Can I get you anything to drink?” James urges you further in, bringing you to the living room.

“Um, just water is fine.” You look up at him, smiling shyly and nearly tripping when he smiles back.

“I’ll be right back,” James says, watching as you sit and sink into the plush couch. “Make yourself at home.” The look in his eyes when he says it sparks something inside you, something warm and fuzzy. Thinking of James’ house as your home makes your tummy flutter, but you don’t understand why.

God, you need to get it together.

You’re left alone for a moment, and everything is quiet except for the fridge opening and the glasses clinking. James’ absence allows you a moment to breathe properly, being with him always leaves you flustered, though you can’t deny that some part of you likes it. You like his commanding nature, how deep his voice gets when he talks passionately about something, how warm his embrace is when he holds you for what might be a little too long, squeezing you like he doesn’t want to let you go.

“Here you go, bunny.” Suddenly, a glass of water appears in front of you, and you take it with a gracious smile and a small “thank you.”

“So,” He says, sitting next to you — really close — and throwing his arm over your shoulders, practically pulling you into his lap. “Do you want to tell me what’s wrong?”

Tears immediately spring to your eyes, suddenly remembering how horrible today was. You force yourself to take a couple of sips of your glass but your hand starts shaking enough to where James takes your glass and sets it on the coffee table in front of you.

“Bunny—“

His soft voice causes you to start crying, throwing yourself into his chest and burying your face in his neck as you sob out your troubles. James’ hand is warm on your back, rubbing it soothingly and squeezing you close to him. This time, he actually pulls you in his lap, you’re grasping the front of his sweater while he maneuvers your body so you’re straddling his thighs, and you can’t help but scoot closer so you’re sitting on him properly with your body flush against his.

A few minutes of crying later and your tears have finally slowed, your sobs deforming into hiccups until you calm down enough to hear James cooing into your ear, whispering sweet nothings. When you finally catch your breath, you pull back, staring up at James with wide eyes and a pout.

“I-I… I was fired! Fired! And I don’t know what I’m going to do! Mr. Walker just tossed me to the side because a document went missing and he blamed me, and now I’m jobless and my roommates are definitely going to kick me out because I can barely make my rent as it is. What am I going to do?”

James sighs, rubbing one hand up and down your back and keeping his other on your waist, though they manage to sneak up your shirt a little without your notice.

“I’m sorry, bunny,” He starts, giving you a comforting smile. “It’s awful that happened to you, and it’s not your fault, so don’t go blaming yourself like I know you want to.”

Your face goes warm with embarrassment. How is he able to read you so easily?

“And as far as your living situation, you’ll move in with me.”

“James!” Your eyebrows furrow, your head automatically shaking. “No, no I can’t do that to you. I don’t have a job anymore and I definitely can’t afford to pay you rent, I-I can’t burden you like that.” Even though it hurts to say it, you want to be honest with him. Because how on Earth are you supposed to pay him back for this?

“You’re not a burden.” You’re surprised by his angry tone, and his eyes darken as though he’s challenging you to say otherwise. “You’ll never be a burden on me, bunny. I’m offering you this, I don’t want you to pay me.”

As though he can sense your hesitation, he gives you a playful smirk.

“But if you really want to help, how about you do the cooking and cleaning? I don’t always get a good home-cooked meal, and it’d be nice to come back from work to see you in a cute little apron.”

This makes you giggle, a weight lifting off your shoulders when you nod timidly. “I-I can do that. I’ll do anything.”

And while you had pure intentions with that statement, James takes it differently, his eyes darkening even further as he nibbles at his bottom lip.

“Anything?” He smirks wider when you nod eagerly because that’s what you are. Always eager to please — especially please James.

“Yes, anything!”

James hums, seemingly thinking something over, before sliding one of his hands up the back of your shirt.

“How about you give me a kiss? I haven’t had a good one in a while,” While he sounds like he’s teasing, his face shows he’s anything but.

He really wants you to kiss him. And, well, it’s not like you’re going to deny him, you’re too grateful for his generosity. Plus, you’d be insane to pass up such an opportunity, he’s handsome, kind, and makes you feel safe. So, with only a little hesitation, you lean down and press your lips against his in a simple peck, but before you can pull away James groans, placing one hand on the back of your head to keep you steady.

His lips practically attack yours, his tongue invading your mouth and taking what it wants – you. You don’t even know it but you’re whimpering almost immediately, opening your mouth and letting James consume you whole. He’s smiling against your lips, biting your bottom lip as he retreats for a moment so he can stare up into your eyes.

“You’re so beautiful, bunny,” James whispers reverently like he’s hypnotized. And he’s not the only one. Your brain is quickly going silent, your sole focus is on James and how good he’s making you feel.

“Really?”

“So beautiful, I’ve always thought so.” His confession makes you whine, he thinks you’re beautiful, this gorgeous man with the deepest blue eyes you’ve ever seen. Suddenly, James curses softly, grabbing your waist under your shirt, and that’s when you realize you’ve started subconsciously moving your hips against his.

“S-Sorry,” You mumble, though you’re not too sorry considering you can’t stop rolling down onto his lap, it feels too good.

“Don’t be.” James hums thoughtfully, leaning forward slightly and wrapping his arms around your waist. “Why don’t we go to my room? It’ll be more comfortable.”

You don’t even wait for him to finish before you start eagerly nodding your head, adjusting your legs as he stands so you can wrap them around his waist. He carries you to his room, smirking to himself the entire time because you can’t stop kissing and biting his neck in the hopes of leaving a mark, staking your claim. When you finally get there, James quickly shuts the door behind him and then drops you down onto the bed.

“Sir,” You whine when he doesn’t do anything, he’s only standing at the end of the bed, staring at you with eyes so dark with lust that you can’t see the blue of them.

“Don’t worry, bunny, I’ll take good care of you.” With that, he swiftly strips his shirt off and tosses it to the side, then undoes the button on his pants, slowly dragging down the zipper with a wide smirk at the haze in your eyes. “Do you want to help me?”

It takes a few moments for you to understand what he’s asking of you, but once you do you push yourself up, shuffling over to him until you’re sitting with your legs underneath your butt. For a moment you’re not sure what to do, you reach out for his pants but freeze mid-air because you just now realize that you don’t know what the fuck you’re doing. You’ve never been in this situation before, your sexual exploits consist of goodnight kisses on the few dates you’ve been on, and your vibrator in your nightstand that has been working overtime ever since you met James.

“I-I’m sorry,” You murmur, embarrassment flooding your features.

“Why are you sorry, bunny?” James’ voice is soft, soothing your worries.

“I… I don’t know what I’m doing. I’ve never… been with a man before.” Your hands fall to your lap at the same time you hang your head. What if you disappoint him? You don’t know what you’re doing and you’d hate to mess anything up.

“I know, bunny. It’s okay.” James lifts your chin with his fore and middle fingers, guiding you to look at him again. “I’ll teach you everything.” His voice dips lower, his bottom lip getting trapped between his teeth when you smile, relieved.

“Now, I’m going to take off my pants, but I want you to take off my boxers. Okay?”

“Yes, sir,” You say quickly, eyes dropping to his crotch as he begins pulling the denim down, down, down until it pools on the floor. He steps out of them, then steps in front of you with his arms hanging by his side. When he raises his eyebrow, nodding to his underwear, you reach out for him again, this time with only a small amount of hesitation. Your nerves are nearly off the charts, but knowing that James is going to guide you makes you feel better.

Your hands are shaking slightly when you pull them down, and absolutely no one can fault you for the loud gasp you let out when he’s finally bare because holy shit. Despite being relatively anxious and naive surrounding sex, you’ve watched your fair share of porn, and while the men in them did usually have big dicks, they seem small compared to James’.

You’re almost frightened, how the hell is that going to fit inside you? James chuckles, and you realize you probably said that aloud.

“Don’t worry, bunny. I’ll make it fit,” James groans, reaching down to grab the bottom of your shirt. “I’m going to take this off now, okay?” He tugs it up and over your head once you give your consent, tossing it to the side and cursing when he sees the light pink bra barely covering your breasts. James is biting his lip so hard you’re worried he might draw blood, but you don’t pay it any mind because he’s soon urging you to lay on your back with your legs dangling over the edge.

“Gonna take these off too.”

Giving him a shy smile and a nod, he hooks his fingers in the waistband of your sweatpants, glancing up at you one final time to make sure you’re okay before he surprises you by pulling them off of your legs in one swift movement. You’re tugged down the bed a little, a shocked gasp leaving your lips.

“Fucking angelic,” James murmurs, dropping to his knees and placing his large, rough hands on your knees. He smirks when he sees your matching light pink panties, already soaking wet at the crotch. You have to bite your lip to keep from whimpering when he pushes your legs wide apart, but you can’t stop yourself from squirming when he doesn’t do anything else.

“James,” You whine, high-pitched and needy.

“Sir,” He reminds you with a raised eyebrow as though he’s daring you to say his real name again. And just for good measure, he surprises you by lifting up one of his hands and swinging it down onto your clothed pussy in a harsh swat, causing you to let out a loud moan.

“Sir! I-I’m sorry, sir.”

“It’s okay, little bunny,” James coos as he runs his hands up the back of your thighs so he can push them up and out, letting him get a good look at where you need him most. “Are you going to let me eat your pretty pussy?”

Even though it’s phrased as a question, you know James isn’t going to take ‘no’ for an answer. It’s not like you even want to tell him ‘no’, you’re too desperate for something, anything.

“Y-Yes, sir. Please.” Your begging makes him groan, and he quickly dips forward so he’s not even an inch away from your core, inhaling deeply and cursing again.

With a quick kiss to your covered clit, he twists his fingers into the band of your panties and rips them into pieces, and you know you’ll have marks from it. But you want them, you want evidence of this night, and you’ll gladly take anything he gives you. And no sooner than your panties off do James dive in, inhaling once more before his tongue sneaks out and licks a long stripe from your hole to your clit.

It’s at that point that you know you’re well and truly fucked, because there’s no way you’re not going to become addicted to the feeling of his tongue dipping into your quivering hole, the way he wraps his lips around your clit and sucks it into his mouth, the way he groans into your pussy like there’s nowhere else he’d rather be.

And it doesn’t take long for your legs to start shaking, desperately trying to close around James’ head but not being able to due to his hands gripping your thighs and holding them still. The filthy groans he lets out are enough to make you cum alone, but then he attaches his lips to your clit again and gently bites down, forcing an obscene moan out of your mouth.

He lets you get used to the pleasure, switching between fucking his tongue deep inside you and flicking at your clit, and only when he decides you’re ready does he manage to slide his forefinger in your pussy all the way to the third knuckle.

“Sir!” You can’t help but yell. Yes, it stings, but it’s far outweighed by the pleasure of his tongue assaulting your pulsating nub.

He wastes no time in slowly sliding it in and out, wiggling it around until you whine loudly, letting him know he’s found that special spot. You’re too out of it to realize it but James is smiling, clearly smug at how he’s making you react. You wouldn’t care anyway, in fact, he deserves it. He’s making you feel too good, especially when he slips in his middle finger and spreads them.

“Oh god! Yes, fuck. Sir, yes,” You’re incoherent, blabbering nonsense because your brain is too foggy to form a coherent thought. James picks up the pace, wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking it as he thrusts his fingers directly at your g-spot.

“Sir! Sir, I-I’m…” As soon as he started, he stopped, pulling out his fingers and leaning back slightly with a wide grin. His chin is coated in your juices, and the gleam in his eyes shows you that you’re not going to be able to cum so easily.

“Not yet, bunny,” James says when you whine pathetically, trying to buck your hips up into his mouth but unable to do so because of his commanding grip now holding your waist. “I’m not letting you cum until I’m inside you.”

James then climbs onto the bed, guiding you upwards to lay your head against the plush pillows so he can lean over your body. With little preamble, he snakes his arms around your back to quickly unclasp your bra and allow your breasts to spill free.

“I can’t wait to watch these bounce,” James groans, palming one of them, twisting and pinching at your nipple. James just laughs when you hiss, because your soaked pussy is enough to tell him that you’re loving what he’s doing. 

“Bunny.” He says gruffly, and your eyes shoot up to meet his, though you can hardly see him because your vision is hazy, nothing matters except James. “Are you ready?”

You’re barely able to mumble ‘yes’, but you manage to do so, and James takes that as his cue to grasp the base of his cock and position it at your entrance. He places his other hand on your neck, lightly squeezing the sides to keep your eyes locked on his.

The pressure against your hole is immense, James telling you to breathe as he slowly pushes deeper. He stops about halfway through, giving you a moment for the pain to fade. He’s clearly having a hard time staying still but is cognizant enough to know you’re overwhelmed. It takes a few minutes of deep breathing before you finally nod, silently letting him know that he can move. And he does, pushing in all the way until his hips are flush with yours. Once again, he stills, leaning down to brush his lips over your cheeks and catch the tears spilling from the corners of your eyes.

“H-Hurts, sir,” You whimper out, forcing yourself to keep eye contact with him. And while your core is burning, James looks so damn proud that you’re taking him that it pushes away any discomfort.

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No!” Even though you’re in mild pain you’re pretty sure you’ll cry if he pulls out, you need everything he can give you. “Please, don’t stop.”

“Don’t worry, bunny,” James coos, then tightens his grip around your neck ever so slightly. “I’ll give you what you need.” And as though a switch was flipped, James pulls back, pausing for half a second before thrusting forward.

“Ahhh!” Your mouth drops open as you scream, your arms coming up to claw at James’ shoulders and back as he gives you all he has.

And he has a lot to give. He puts his back into fucking you, keeping one hand around your neck and using his other arm to pull your left leg over his shoulder. Sweat beads at your hairline, your eyes stinging with tears, your whole body lit on fire. At this moment, nothing matters except the delicious burn between your legs, the way your body is shoved further up the bed with each of James’ powerful thrusts until it gets to the point where he has to place the hand around your leg on the headboard to steady you.

“Fuck, bunny, you feel so good. You’re so good for me.” James can’t stop mumbling praises, and even though you can’t really hear them, you feel them. Your eyes don’t move from his, even as he glances down to where your bodies are joined. “Fuck, little bunny. Your pussy looks so good stuffed full of my cock, knew you’d take me so well.”

“S-Sir,” You whimper, bucking your hips up to meet his thrusts and digging your nails into his skin. But James doesn’t seem to mind if the way his whole body shudders and his hips slightly lose their rhythm is anything to go by.

“Are you gonna be a good little bunny and cum for me?” James moves his gaze back up to your face, chuckling when he sees how fucked-out you already are. Despite his hand still around your neck you manage to nod, little cries and whines escaping into the air every time James’ cock gets shoved against your cervix.

“Yeah, you are,” James continues, leaning over your body even more and shifting so the tip of his dick hits your spot with every thrust. “You’re going to squirt all over my cock so I can cum deep in your cunt. Gonna cum in you every day, keep you full of me, maybe even plug you up to make sure it sticks.”

You’re right there, your pleasure climbing higher and higher until you’re ready to fall off the edge. James’s next sentence sends you there.

“Fuck, bunny. You’re going to be the perfect little mommy to all the children I’m gonna give you.”

When you wake up, James will tell you about how you came so hard that you blacked out, squirting and gushing around his cock while he continued telling you how even more beautiful you’ll be when you’re pregnant, taking care of him and his home, how he knew you were the one for him from the moment he first saw you. Your things will already be moved into his house. New clothes chosen specifically for you will be hung up in his closet and the bathroom will be adjusted to fit your products. The kitchen is going to be filled with all the food you like. And your cat will be curled up in a miniature hammock in her very own room.

When you wake up, you’ll see how much thought James put into redecorating his home just for you.

And you’ll be too grateful for his kindness to question where he put your birth control.

main taglist: @lilyalone / @crazyunsexycool / @goldylions / @yeehawbrothers / @buckyssweetheart / @buckysprettybaby / @sushiseoks / @heytheredelulu / @somnorvos / @ozwriterchick / @pxgeturner / @gentlelimerence

bucky taglist: @justsebstan / @myfavbuckyfics

[ellecdc]

The Hazards of Hiccoughs

poly!darksun x fem!reader who falls for one of James' pranks by accident

prompts: "anything with dark sun" & "reader gets caught in the crossfire of one of their pranks", scenario by @unstablereader

CW: Barty threatening murder (the usual), descriptions of asthma and asthma attack, reader panics because she can't breathe, hurt/comfort but mostly fluff and humour

One word to describe James Potter would be, without a doubt, brave.

If you asked his friends to find words to describe him, he may get the odd “clever”, “mischievous”, “troublesome”, “annoying git” etcetera; but at the end of the day, no one could deny that James Potter was, in fact, brave.

He was a Gryffindor, afterall. 

He spent his spare time flying on an enchanted piece of bark as high as the tallest towers in Hogwarts (and oftentimes then some), and finding many new and creative ways to give his mother a few more grey hairs by performing tricks and stunts  at said heights. 

He spent an evening every month with the likes of a werewolf, and didn’t even quiver at the prospect of being sent to Azkaban when he became an unregistered animagus. 

He’s battled racist gits on the school grounds, found himself facing grounds for detention, suspension, and expulsion all in the name of mischief, and he has made both enemies and the greatest of friendships with the likes of Slytherin’s.

In fact, one of James’ bravest ventures was getting the likes of one Barty Crouch Junior into his bed. 

So, yeah….James Potter was brave.

So brave.

Except, maybe not right now.

Except maybe, right now, he was very much decidedly not brave and actually very much afraid. 

What was James so afraid of, one might wonder?

Oh, well, you remember that very brave venture James made once upon a brave moment where he won over the affections of one such Barty Crouch Junior?

Yeah, that.

James was afraid of that.

Or, more specifically, James was very much afraid of what Barty was going to do when he found out what James had done (inadvertently!!!) to you. 

You see, one of those things James was so well known for? You know? His mischief. Well, he’d had a brilliant pranking idea.

He and Sirius knew that Regulus bought caramel sugar quills every Hogsmeade trip for the Slytherin common room, as it was a crowd favourite. 

During one of James and Sirius’ (many) recent detentions, they had the (quite brilliant, if you asked either of them) idea of using the same charm used in hiccough lollies sold at Zonko's on the sugar quills, thus sending the Slytherin gits (affectionate, since one of them was James’ adopted little brother and the other was his boyfriend, and, you know, all of their closest friends) into a hiccoughing fit!

It was hilarious, and James wasn’t ashamed to admit that he and Sirius laughed so hard at the vision of them hiccoughing their way through the castle that they were given another detention for their behaviour during detention. 

And it had gone oh so smoothly. 

James was often in the Slytherin common room either with or without you on account of both of your relationship with Barty, and was able to place them in their usual spot on a dark stained wooden cabinet beside the fireplace without rousing much suspicion. 

It had gone perfectly.

So perfectly, that is, until his poor sweet angel came running to him choking and coughing and wheezing with tear tracks down your pretty face because you had fallen for his (now very obviously) stupid and idiodic prank.

James had been present for a few of your asthma attacks before, but none of them seemed quite as bad as this one. He always had one of your inhalers in his room for emergencies, and you had convinced yourself that the one you had on your person was either faulty or expired, but no sooner would the medication begin to soothe your air-thirsty lungs would you begin hiccoughing again and the cycle would continue. 

It didn’t help that you were clearly panicked, and James didn’t think that was completely unreasonable seeing as you couldn’t breathe, so James had worked hard to remain as calm as he possibly could for the both of you.

He’d nicked one of Moony’s calming draught’s for you and brought you and your inhalers up to the top of the astronomy tower for some quiet and fresh air; rubbing circles along your back, taking deep, methodical breaths with you, helping you take another puff when the hiccoughing began to take over, and washed, rinsed, and repeated until the hiccoughing had finally subsided. 

You were undoubtedly exhausted after the emotional ordeal, and James opted to bring you down to his dorm so you could sleep it off (and so that he could keep an eye on you). 

He watched your form almost obsessively where you were curled up in his bed in one of his quidditch jumpers from his desk chair; watching your chest rise and fall evenly, without restriction as he fought to bring his own panic down. 

“Merlin that could have been bad.” Sirius let out with a breath from his own bed, joining James in watching you breathe as if he too needed convincing that you still were.

“Don’t.” James bit out sharply. “Don’t even go there.” 

“How’d she even get to them before anyone else did?” He continued, agreeing with James that wondering what might have happened if you hadn’t found James was too scary. 

“Because we had the brilliant idea of going during Slytherin's quidditch practice.” James sneered, still never removing his gaze from your chest. 

“What are you going to tell Junior?” He asked then, causing James’ stomach to lurch not at all pleasantly. 

One of the things James loved so much about Barty was how much he loved. Barty loved everything with all the intensity of a fiendfyre explosion; he dedicated himself mind, body, and soul 110% to those he cherished.

And one thing Barty cherished perhaps most in the whole wide world was you.

“Do I have to tell him?” James groaned then, finally moving his gaze from you to the face of his thoroughly bemused best friend. 

“Will she not tell him?” 

James responded with a noncommittal sound as Peter walked in the door. 

“Tell who what?” He asked as he let his book bag fall to the ground with a thud, earning him a hasty “shhhh” from James and “Tell Barty we almost killed his Treasure” from Sirius. 

“Oh, well I just let him into the common room.” Peter offered simply as he laid back casually on his four poster bed.

“You what!?” James beseeched, earning him a hasty “sshhh” from Sirius. 

“He said he was coming to find you. Stopped to ask Remus about a book they were talking about last week first.” Peter responded with a shrug.

“No! No. Nonononono.” James began chanting as he took off in a sprint towards the common room. 

James nearly ricocheted off of Barty from how fast he’d been going down the stairs that both of them winced as they took the other in. 

“Salazar, Jamie. I’m happy to see you too but you didn’t have to tackle me like some muggle American footballer.” He groaned as he massaged his ribs.

“Sorry! Sorry. Hi! Hi, bubs. How are you? How was practice!?” James rapid-fired with faux cheer. 

So along with being brave, mischievous, and perhaps more than a little bit afraid of his boyfriend, James was also a terrible liar.

“What’s going on?” Barty asked suspiciously after scanning James’ face for only 0.7 seconds. 

“Nothing! What? What do you mean!? Nothing, of course!”

“What did you do?” He deadpanned; his question poised more like a demand of honesty than it was an inquiry. 

James forced out his most disbelieving scoff. “Wha- what do you mean? Nothing, of course! Why, why would I have done anything?” 

“You’re literally always up to no good which is usually why I like you so much, but this-” Barty paused to wave a hand over James rather generally, “is freaking me out. Spill.”

“Okay, listen, she’s alright, but-”

“Where is she?” Barty demanded - any levity quickly seeping from his face and tone as he stood up straighter.

“I just said she was okay, Barty-”

“Which means she wasn’t okay at some point.” 

“There….may have been an incident.” James offered slowly.

“For fucks sa- get out of my way.” Barty grumbled as he shoved his way past James and took the stairs two at a time to get to James’ dorm room. 

“How’d he know she was up there?” James wondered aloud, surprised when Remus answered him. 

“I told him the two of you were upstairs.” He said as he fell into step with James.

“You told him!?”

Remus rolled his eyes so hard James was actually certain that this would be the time they finally got stuck like that. “Of course I didn’t, you prat. Why would I waste the chance to watch the theatrics.”

James groaned as they rounded the corner to their shared dorm, emotionally (and physically) bracing himself for said theatrics, only to find Barty kneeling on the floor beside James’ bed as he brushed your hair away from your face. 

“That must’ve been really scary.” Barty murmured quietly; a divot between his eyebrows as he scanned your face as if looking to see any lingering signs of distress. 

“M’okay; Jamie took care of me.” You responded quietly; words stretched out by the exhaustion still clearly weighing you down.

Barty hummed noncommittally and continued scanning your face. “Do you still want me to kill him for you though? You know I will, yeah?” He offered, leaning down to press a lingering kiss to your (what James was sure was still overheated) face.

You chuckled and turned your face to him so he could press a kiss to your lips.

“No, I like him too much.” You offered softly as you nuzzled back into James’ pillow. “So do you.”

“Do not.” Barty argued petulantly, causing you to swing your arm out at him.

He caught it quickly and brought your knuckles to his lips. “Don’t exert yourself.”

“Don’t tell lies.” You countered.

Barty groaned dramatically and threw his head back. “Fine; I’m crazy about him. But I’d still kill him, you know?”

“You’re all bark.” 

“He doesn’t need to know that.” Barty hissed back in faux chiding as he locked his now narrowed eyes onto James, and even though James had been privy to the conversation that just took place, he couldn’t help the nervous gulp he took. 

“Seems like we might’ve gone scot-free for this one.” Sirius stage whispered at James, causing Barty’s somewhat dark glare at James to turn into something downright murderous when it moved to Sirius. 

“You might want to run.” Remus stage whispered at Sirius who then took his own nervous gulp. 

“It was nice knowing you, Moons.” Sirius offered solemnly with a head nod. “Pete, take care of our boy, yeah?”

Peter, for his part, offered Sirius nothing more than a thumbs up from his bed as he and James began backing slowly out of the dorm room.

“Barty - my love - I just want you to remember how much you love and care for me, yeah? And also that sweet angel over there, who would definitely not like to have me dead or for you to spend time in prison for murdering my best friend- NOW, PADS!”

And like two characters on a muggle cartoon show, the two Gryffindors went scrambling from the doorway.

And if James had perhaps stuck around even a single moment longer, he would have heard Barty ask you if he could “at least scare them a little?” to which you simply replied “be my guest.”

[ruoshik0]

DP x DC: The al Ghul twins but with a twist!

Danyal al Ghul was- is a phenomenal actor. Always have been.

He was one of the best in the league for infiltration and espionage. None can deny that.

Along with his twin, Damian- whose skill sets are the complete opposite, they made for a terrifying pair of twins.

Ra's al Ghul saw that. He would have been a fool not to. The heir and his spare were talented in a completely different way.

So much so that Ra's decided to team them up. In the spotlight, Damian- the heir- would fight with raw strength and brutal power whilst Danyal- the spare- would strike from the shadows with amazing efficiency.

However, as much as they are better together, the twins must learn to be independent. To better themselves by being alone.

Relying on another encourages codependency after all.

And Ra's did not want such a pathetic thing to be a bigger problem than it is now.

So, he sent the spare to learn more about the Lazarus waters. A long term mission of infiltration and espionage. And while the League did not do such missions, he needed to learn more about the waters and it's properties to make better use of it. And simply forcing the two scientists to spill everything may result in a less than favorable outcome. Learning from the inside is better, really.

And whilst Danyal was away, he would further along Damian's training.

It was a good plan. Two birds with one stone.

And when Danyal arrived at his destination, he was a little worse for wear. Torn and dirty clothes, messy hair and acted beyond his years. He was in the alley right next to the Fentons' house when they first found him. They decided letting him spend a few days in their home to get ahold of a normal life before sending Danyal to the CPS was a good idea.

They quickly got attached to the cute and soft child beneath the always suspicious and hesitant orphan.

The Fentons immediately adopted him after deciding he would stay.

His name is now Daniel James Fenton.

Daniel was an average kid who acted like how you would expect an orphan who had lived on the streets for a long time.

His academic performance is above average in comparison to the other kids.

Even without the Fenton blood running through his veins, Daniel fit right in with the weird family.

As stated before, Danyal al Ghul is a phenomenal actor.

When he first arrived, he engineered a situation in which the scientists had no other choice than to take him in for a time.

When he was successful, he didn't stop to celebrate. Danyal immediately started working on making them warm up to him. Little gestures such as a hesitant hug and following them around like a little duckling worked like charms. Little giggles here and a little harmless prank there worked too.

Those psychology books and being near civilians more often helped him with these things. As well as the specialized training from the League.

When the child named Jasmine had fallen in his trap, it was easy to get the parents in too.

After getting adopted, although not before getting him a legal identity, he immediately started working who exactly he wanted Daniel to be and how people saw him.

A scared little child who jumps at any loud noises and a big interest in space and stars. Mostly because Danyal himself was a big space nerd and it's hard to fake enough interest to seem real.

Then he had gotten himself friends. A quaint life in a quaint town meant having less than 5 friends.

Samantha Manson and Tucker Foley were both viewed as weird and should be avoided. The new kid in town has befriended both and thus should be avoided by association.

He did not want to deal with even more obnoxious kids.

Danyal had lived a fake life with a fake personality. He trained whenever he can, and helped in the lab other times.

Weekly written reports to the League.

And learn as much as he can.

That was then. Now, Danny was no longer as alive as he was. And while it's a nuisance, his ghostly powers brought a lot of advantage.

When he first became Phantom, he fought ghosts. Acted like the wimpy yet still brave Danny in front of his friends.

Every few days, he would complain about the vigilante life and every other day he would use make up to worsen his appearance. A little darker dark circles and messier nest of a hair.

And while Danyal got the hang of his new abilities in a few days, Danny took a few weeks.

He purposefully dropped his grades because Danny couldn't find the time to study and Danyal knew Sam and Tuck would get suspicious if his grades remained the same.

Weeks and weeks after, learning more about the Lazarus waters, ghosts, and it's properties at a faster rate than ever before, Danyal decided that his little engineering and sciencing hustle should end. And by that, he means he should end the mission. So he started working on the last phase of his plans.

(He got too attached. Oh Ancients, he got too attached. He wanted to stay there and actually live like a normal person. He wanted to but- but... what about his brother...? He had to leave. Leaving means more suffering for them. His... friends and family.

He is so gonna miss the cat and mouse chase with the Fentons. He is gonna miss everyone. He hopes everyone forgets him so that he can leave feeling a little better)

First step, making those who are in the know about Phantom, warm up to the idea of him leaving vigilantism behind.

Every few weeks, he would joke about quitting as Phantom. That turned into months and Danny started looking even worse than when he first became Phantom. Danny wouldn't have a future if he didn't study more. But he couldn't because of vigilantism. And the stress caught up to him.

16 year old Daniel James Fenton decided he should stop when he was finally convinced by his two friends and two sisters.

(He hated how much he engineered these situations)

And while Danyal knew Danny didn't have a future, Danny himself didn't and thus acted like it.

It was hard trying so hard to rebut his circle of people when he just wanted agree right then there. It all ended in a messy and teary situation Danyal would have liked to avoid altogether.

(His tears were real. He didn't want to admit that he was crying. Mourning his loss before it happened)

The things he does to stay character.

Phantom quit after loudly announcing he was moving to another place to haunt.

And Danny's grades slowly went up to what it used to be before the ghost nonsense. He was finally relaxing again.

He was anxious. Anxious to the point of tensing. His League training thrown put the window)

Few months after, Daniel James Fenton went missing with little to no clues as to why.

Everyone mourned him. His ghostly core was happy when he had caught a glimpse of his grave while he was... visiting, for a lack of a better word.

(Finally, he was being mourned. Because he did die. Death touched him and he didn't even have a grave before this)

Now Danyal al Ghul returned from his long term mission. He could finally be himself again.

(Somewhere along the way Danny had become Danyal's real personality)

The League of Assassins was exactly as he had first left it. There were a few very glaring issues though.

First, Damian isn't here. He had left. Left Danyal alone. It took quite the willpower to not go out and track wherever Damian had gone to.

Second, Ra's al Ghul wasn't here. Grandfather had died and his body was nowhere to be found.

Third, Mother was leading. While it is not that much of an issue, Danyal is to be the heir and shall by crowned the leader in a few weeks time. Which is a big issue. Mostly because he was supposed to be in the shadows. Danyal decided that he did not want to be in the limelight like his brother.

Plus, he was already the Eventual King of another dimension. A rather infinite one might he add.

Ugh, more responsibilities.

He decided that he would greet his brother on their seventeenth birthday. A little terrorizing never hurts anybody.

Till then, he'd have to train his ass off.

(He’d do just about anything stop himself from thinking about Amity Park and its residents)

Sigh...