#why can't i have james in my possession

[iheartjameshetfield]

i have an itch in the back of my throat that only his dick could relieve

[veltana]

Breaking point

✦ Pairing: Roommate!Bucky Barnes/Fem!Reader

✦ Word count: ~2,5k

✦ Rating: Explicit

✦ Warnings/tags: Dub-con (proceed with caution if this might trigger you), pwp, smut and a bit of fluff at the end, possessive/protective!bucky, degredation (slut, fuck doll, cum-bucket), grinding, choking, spitting, pussy slapping, fingering, unprotected sex, breeding kink, creampie, pet name (sweetheart).

✦ Summary: Bucky is done with you going out with losers.

✦ Note: This used to be called I will kill them if they touch you but I never liked that title so I renamed it! Also, you guys didn't know what you were voting for, but it was the banner for this story! Please reblog and comment! Asks are always welcome 💚

Masterlist | AO3

"Please don't scare this one away as you did last time," you beg and look at Bucky's reflection in the bathroom mirror. He makes a face where he's leaning against the door frame behind you and then sighs when you give him a look. "He wasn't worth shit if he didn't wanna fight for you," he points out.

Now it's your turn to sigh and you cross your arms, glaring at him. "He isn't supposed to fight for me on a first date. We're supposed to have a good time and hopefully fuck." Bucky's mouth hardens, and he looks away. He doesn’t like that, at all.

Ever since you became roommates he's been very protective of you, helping you with the smallest things, driving you everywhere you need to go, even if you can drive yourself. Sometimes it's overbearing but most of the time it's nice to have someone care for you like that.

Unfortunately, recently he's picked up a habit of intimidating the people you go on dates with. He stands behind you when they come to pick you up, and his large frame and cold stare make many of them cower. A few have turned around right away, others have asked if that's your boyfriend or something, thinking it was some type of open relationship/cuckold situation.

"Don't say shit like that," Bucky says through gritted teeth. "I don't wanna think about you fucking other people." You can't help the teasing smile that cracks your face. "Makes you jealous?" With a huff, Bucky pushes off and leaves you to continue.

Two hours later your makeup is done and your hair fixed to perfection. You sit on the couch in shorts and a t-shirt, with a glass of wine, waiting until the last minute to put on the skin-tight dress. While scrolling on your phone, Bucky sits beside you with a beer. "So where's the loser taking you?" "Don't care,” you shrug. “Honestly, my priority tonight is to get laid. The previous ones were a little too… bland. But he seems promising." "What do you mean, bland?"

Putting your phone down you look at him, "You don't wanna hear this anyway, you'll just get mad," you point out. "I don't get mad," he defends. "Pfff, you're such a liar, I can see it in your eyes whenever I mention another guy." "Because you deserve the best and all I've seen is trash."

Irritated, you put your glass down too. "Why don't you pick for me then? Who would James Bucky Barnes deem worthy of fucking me?"

The grip on his beer is so hard his knuckles whiten and his lips are a thin line. When he doesn't answer you lean back and start to count people off.

"Well, Steve seems a bit too sweet for my taste but I mean I would not mind trying a slice of that all-American beefcake," you muse. "Sam is so charming and funny! That quick tongue would probably work wonders, if you know what I mean," you wink and watch as Bucky's eye twitch, his jaw clenched hard.

"Tony," you continue. "Well, he seems a little self-absorbed but maybe he's a really selfless lover. Won't hurt to check!" "Loki is so handsome," you bite your lip. "I would surrender my body to him in a heartbeat! But I've heard that he leaves people high and dry and that would be awful."

Tilting your head, you say, "Do you think Thor and Jane would be up for a threesome? I can just imagine eating her out while he fucks me from behind and then we could-"

With a slam he puts the bottle on the table and grabs your face with his hand forcefully, silencing your tirade of words and squeezing your cheeks so that your lips pucker.

The grip is close to bruising and it's an instant pull in your lower stomach. His eyes are black with anger, something you've never seen directed at you before. "No one," he hisses. "Not one of them is fucking you, I will kill them if they touch you."

His hand releases you and grabs your neck instead. You're shocked, and instantly so horny it hurts. Opening your mouth to speak he squeezes harder, making a wheezing sound come out.

"I'll give you a chance to stop this. Tell me right now you don't want this and we'll act as if nothing happened. Otherwise, I'm fucking you into this couch until you can't remember your goddamn name." When he finishes his grip lightens. The rush of blood makes you euphoric and boneless. You want to give yourself to him, let him do whatever he wants. "Fuck me," you whisper.

The kiss is more teeth than lips and the hold around your throat hardens again. You try to keep up with him but it's impossible as he pushes his tongue into your mouth, claiming every inch, making you lightheaded with the lack of oxygen. You gasp for air as he pulls away, releasing you. His gaze is brimming with lust and want now, all signs of anger gone. Then he pushes you down onto the couch.

"You're a kinky little slut, aren't you sweetheart?" he mocks and leans in over you, spreading your legs with his. All you can do is nod and try to wiggle close so you can press your center against his clothed cock. It's clearly outlined in his sweatpants and you hope it's as big as it seems. "If I put my hand down your pants, are you gonna be wet for me?" "Yes Bucky," you whine.

The throbbing is almost unbearable and his smirk is downright sinful. "Come on, rub yourself on me, show me how much you want it." With another whine, you brace yourself against the couch and lift your hips. He doesn't move a muscle to help as you struggle to find the right position.

"That's disappointing," Bucky smacks his lips and frowns. "Thought you wanted this." "I do Bucky, I do, please I'm trying," you tell him desperately. With effort, you get into a good enough position to grind your cunt on his cock through the layers of clothing. It's not nearly enough to curb the ache.

"Useless," Bucky sighs and grabs your legs. "Do I have to do everything?" He pushes your knees up towards your chest, folding you in half and pushing his cock right into your core.

"Sorry," you moan. His mean words have only made you needier and you move yourself against him with abandon. Bucky is motionless above you, not making a sound or saying a word, just staring at you chasing your high. Your movements turn unsteady when you start to come close.

If you were of sound mind you would notice the glint in his eyes but instead, you’re barreling towards your climax. Until he suddenly moves away.

Gawking you stare at him and he just smiles wickedly in return. "Take off your clothes, spread your legs" he instructs and you quickly pull your pants off and discard your t-shirt and underwear, spreading your legs as best you can on the couch. Bucky takes in your bare body, moving his hands slowly down your thighs until his palms frame your pussy.

"Fucking shaved for him too,” he notes with a snarl. You're not sure why that upset him. "Sorry!" you say, just to be safe.

"I don't need your hair curled, your make-up done or your whole body shaved. I will fuck you anyway, sweetheart, no matter what you look like because you belong to me," he growls before he spits on your cunt, sending a rush through you, making you moan and spread your legs even more.

For the first time, he touches you properly, letting his fingers spread the spit all over your pussy before shoving two of them into your soaked core. He pistons them in and out, putting his thumb against your clit and making colors burst before you.

"You want to come on my fingers, you fucking slut?" When you nod frantically he instructs, "Open your mouth, stick out your tongue." A second after you do spit lands on your tongue and droplets on your face. It nearly tips you over.

"Swallow it," he orders and watches you as you do, some form of approval shining in his eyes for the first time. "Who do you belong to?"

The question is too complicated to understand, you can't focus on what he wants. "I don't…" is all that comes out.

"Wrong answer," he says and removes his fingers, making you shout in disappointment. Sharp slaps land on your wet cunt and you instinctively try to move away from it, but he grabs your legs, pulling you back. "Don't you fucking run from me."

"I'm sorry," you cry, looking pleadingly at him. "I'm- I'm yours James, yours to do what you want with. Please, please, please let me come!"

With a huff he pushes his fingers back in, pressing the tips into your g-spot and getting his thumb back on your clit. His unbothered state makes you feel so small and insignificant, heightening the pleasure coursing through you.

As it climbs, your body shakes, your legs trembling from being held open. "I'm- I'm- don't stop!" you beg. Closing your eyes you focus on the feeling of him, his other hand still gripping your thigh hard. You hope it bruises.

"I can feel you, slut!" Bucky's voice is the cherry on top of everything. "Come on my fingers, do it, come for me!" he commands and of course, you do as he wants. With a scream you convulse, almost pushing him out with the sensation flooding you. Bucky is talking above you but you're not sure what he's saying because all you can hear is the blood rushing in your ears.

A hard tap against your cheek makes you open your eyes. "Don't pass out on me, I'm not done with you yet." "Wouldn't dream of it," you smile dumbly, and it earns you a smile in return. But it quickly passes as he pulls off his tank top and pushes down his pants. The cock is just as big as you hoped.

He rubs the head against your soaked center, sending overwhelming sparks through you, making you twitch. When he notches the head of his dick at your opening your blood freezes. "C-condom?" you stutter.

Cocking his head he asks. "Do you really want that? Doesn't a slut like you want to be filled up with cum?" "Y-yes, but, Bucky…" you gnaw your lip.

"I want to fuck my little cum-bucket raw, make sure you feel me running out of you for days," he gives a light thrust, almost pushing inside, giving you a taste of heaven. For a second you look at each other and Bucky presses in just a little bit more. It decides it for you. "Please fill me with your cum Bucky, I need it so bad!" you whine and he chuckles before shoving his fat cock into you without mercy.

Quickly you wrap your legs around his hips, meeting his hard thrusts that are sending your body into overdrive. "Feel so fucking good sweetheart, your cunt was made for me, wasn't it?" he groans. "Yes it was," you answer breathlessly.

He grabs your face. "Those other losers are never going to satisfy you." "No, Bucky, only you!" "That's right, you're my fuckdoll now, sweetheart," he says before he leans down to kiss you. It's much sweeter this time and you grab his head, carding your fingers through his hair, feeling your chest fill with another type of warmth.

When he pulls back he says, "Beg me not to come in you." Your cunt clenches and your second orgasm is suddenly a lot closer. "Bucky, please don't… I can't get pregnant," you make your voice small and frail.

In response his laugh is cruel. "Yes you will, your purpose in life is to be bred. I'm going to cum in you every day til it sticks and then everyone will know who you belong to." "Please, pull out," you beg and reach down to rub your clit, feeling the climax shimmering underneath your skin.

"Such a bad liar, sweetheart," he chuckles. "Are you going to come on my cock? Are you gonna claim me just as I claim you?" "Yes! I just need- harder!" you pant. "Fucking hell," Bucky grunts and does as you demand.

The climax rips through you with little regard for your sanity. The sound leaving your throat makes it raw and a second later Bucky moans your name loud enough for the neighbors to hear. It's almost good enough to feel him finish inside you that you come again, but you’re too spent to do more than shudder.

Then he kisses you again, sweetly, caringly, and pushes his arms in under your body to hug you close to him. "So perfect," he whispers against your mouth. The cums start to trickle out onto the couch but neither of you care, too caught up in each other's lips.

"How are you doing sweetheart?" he asks when he comes up for a breath. "I feel a little high," you confess. "Haven't been fucked that good in a long time."

There is something in his gaze that shifts and he leans his forehead against yours. "I'm sorry. I just… I couldn't take it anymore… I like you so much." "Lucky for you I get off on that stuff," you smile. "And if I had said stop I trust you would have."

He hugs you so hard you can hardly breathe. "Of course, I fucking would." "You can make it up to me by going tender the next time," you smile. "Next time?" "As many times as you’ll have me." He laughs into your skin. "I don't think you're ready for that!"

Suddenly the sound of the doorbell jerks the two of you apart. You stare at Bucky with wide eyes. "My date," you whisper, horrified.

With a smirk, he raises himself on his arms. "I should make you go on that date with my cum running out of you, maybe even let him get as far as spreading your legs just to see that you’re already claimed."

With a groan, you cover your face with your hands. "Don't tempt me," you tell him before wiggling out from under him, finding your clothes, and hastily pulling them on.

Opening the door just a crack, you understand you look a mess by the way your date eyes you. "Sorry," your voice is small. "I wasn't feeling great and then I fell asleep on the couch." "Yeah, you look terrible," the guy notes before handing you one of the ugliest bouquets you've ever seen. Quickly stepping away he says, "I'll call you." but you know he won't. "Great, I'll see you around," you respond before closing the door.

Bucky takes the flowers from you and shoves them in the trash before grabbing you around the waist and kissing you again. "Didn't you say he was promising?" "I have no clue what you're talking about," you answer with a completely straight face but then start to giggle as he swoops you up and carries you to his bedroom.

[alwaysanundertone]

hiw Abt a marauderers x FEM reader, like where it's after a double moon or smth and Remus is EXTREMELY clingy to the reader, snuggled in her, doesnt let her move, literally anything...and sirius on the other hand is in an awful mood cuz he had some family problem or some thing...he needs support and the reader or Remus aren't there to help him out..and jamesie? Well he had a quidditch match and lost that and is in an equally depressive mood...they all need the reade..but she isn't able to comfort them all...

Sirius becomes and and shouts at the reader...rmeua shouts at sirius for shouting at the reader and James (he can't shout, he's too sweet lol) argues with Remus for being to clingy to the reader...

And so they all get mad and stuff and go to other rooms of the house (lol)

This keeps on continuing until the reader lashes out on all three of them!!!

(p.s: u can totally not do it, if u don't like it lol)

my first request! I'm kind of nervous. My requests are open, and while writing this I realized how much I love them! So feel free to send them <3

Love can be overwhelming | poly! marauders x reader

slight angst / a bit of fluff

word count: 1.8k

CW: mention of abusive household

part 1, part 2 , part 3

When you started dating the Marauders, the first thing that your friend Dorcas said was to beware, polyamorous relationship could be tough. At first, you brushed her off: you knew that, but your love for the boys would have overcome everything.

Or at least you thought so.

You have been experiencing the worst week of your whole life, you were stressed over your head with schoolwork, wanting to stay on top of your class but, also, struggling too, and this time, your boyfriends weren’t helping at all.

It all started with the fact that, obviously, it was the week before the full moon, meaning that Remus was extremely on edge, but also clingy. Having an afternoon for yourself was a luxury: the werewolf had to stay by your side all of the time. You didn’t quite get this clinginess, because he behaved this way only with you; he wanted to have the other two marauders near, of course, but he was fine as long as you didn’t wonder off, and sometimes he seemed to be a bit possessive over you. So, let’s say that if you felt the need to have some practice lessons for potions, he had to be there, and it didn’t matter if the professor didn’t want anyone else in the room with you: you had to choose between having him near you, or skipping the extra lessons you so desperately needed.

“Remus, I know it’s stressful for you, but you must understand I have to take this class. It’s not like I’m going to be gone all afternoon, I’m asking you for two hours maximum. You know that Slughorn doesn’t like having other people during these lessons, and he’s doing me a favour here” He looked like you just might have kicked him.

“I don’t understand why my partner suddenly doesn’t want me around.” You took a deep breath: truth was, you knew that he wasn’t being unreasonable because he wanted to. If his werewolf instincts weren’t acting up, he would have probably pushed you to take even more lessons, but now he wasn’t in his right mind. You had to chance tactic.

“Baby, you know that I love you, right? I love you so, so much” You took his face into your hands, you saw his expression visibly shift. “And I know it isn’t easy for you, I know that. I swear, if you go napping now, you won’t even notice I’m gone”

“But napping is way more fun with you” His voice turned sultry, his hands now groping your ass lightly. You couldn’t help but feel a pang of need, but now was not the time.

“Tell you what, I’m going to lay down with you until you’re asleep. I’ll give you some head scratches, then, when I’ll be back, you’ll have me all to yourself. Does this sound good?” His pupils were now a little bit wider; he nodded and hauled you on his shoulder, making you yelp when he made you fall on the bed. He positioned his head on your chest, a hand crawling underneath your shirt to grip one of your tits possessively, while the other one stayed underneath your ass, the tips of his fingertips hovering dangerously close to your core.

You knew that his hold wasn’t casual: he was trying to make you stay, knowing the effect that he had on you, but you couldn’t give in: you had to stay strong,  because deep down you knew that, if you failed this exam, you wouldn’t be in the right mind to help Remus during the full moon.

You just had to get through this week, it was only 7 days, right? And most of today was gone, if the other boys would be helpful, as they always did, everything was going to be just fine.

You wandered off to the Great Hall for breakfast, exhausted. After the lesson with Slughorn, you came back to a very needy Remus, who took all of his clinginess out of you, leaving you sore and tired; while he slept soundly, though, you had to study and make up for the hours lost being supportive for your boyfriend, leaving you with about two hours of sleep in the last forty-eight hours.

“Hey girl, didn’t see you in our dorm room yesterday, oh what the fuck-“ Dorcas looked at you like you might have grown another head during the nighttime. “Babes, have you slept? Like, at all?”

“No, I haven’t. Remus is being extremely clingy, and you know that I’m not the best when it comes to Potions. Given the fact that the test is going to be next week, I barely have time to rest” She scoffed, but you interrupted her before she could start. “I know that James and Sirius should help, but he’s being this clingy only with me, and they can’t do much about that; plus, the upcoming game is stressing them out so much, yesterday they came to bed after practice, they didn’t even eat anything. I just want to support them”

She sighed. “I know baby, but try to not burn out, okay? If you need any help, I’m here, you know? Now, let’s go eat something”

You were happy to share some time with her and your boyfriends, but when you sat next to Sirius, one look at him told you anything that there was to know.

He didn’t greet you, didn’t sport his usual smirk: he was looking down at his plate like it might have held the answer to all his problems, while James looked at you preoccupied. Remus just held you close to himself. You tried to peel yourself away from his embrace, to not avail.

“Sirius, baby, do you want to talk? We can skip the first few hours and go on a walk to the Black Lake?” Now he was looking at you, his eyes were red and puffy, you tried to not cringe at his expression.

“It’s okay, Y/N, just the usual” You hated how he always seemed to shut down, not wanting to share his problems with you. As you tried to reach for his hand, Remus snatched you back, holding you close to him: you could see the moment in which Sirius shut you out for good, and you wanted to kick Remus for it.

“I’m going to handle this, you’re going to think about Remus, okay darling? Then I will report back to you, I swear” James whispered in your ear, You took a deep breath, nodding: you were thankful for him, but you still didn’t want to make Sirius feel like he couldn’t count on you.

You had the time to eat a biscuit before you had to head to class, Remus trailing behind you. You just had to wait for a few days, a few days and all of this would be over, and you had James to help you get through this week. You would be fine, you told yourself.

On Wednesday, you were thankful that Remus had an important herbology test, which gave you enough time to check in with Sirius. You entered their dorm room, spotting his curled frame under piles of blankets: you felt a pang of guilt, you swore your heart broke just a little.

Without making any sounds, you peeled the blankets off and wrapped your body around his, he startled in his sleep.

“Shh, baby, I’m right here. You’re safe, you know that? And I’ll always be here for you, no matter what” It was like you opened a faucet: his body started trembling, and then came the sobbing, he turned around and hugged you back, you caressed his head and back softly. After he quieted down a bit, you took his face into your hands, forcing him to look into your eyes. “Would you like for me to sing for you?” He nodded eagerly, burying his face in your chest, while you sang him a lullaby.

After a bit, you heard his breath even out. Your heart ached for your lover, you didn’t know what living in an abusive household felt like, and you sometimes even felt guilty over the fact that you had the most loving parents someone could ever asked for. You knew it was silly, but if you could, you’d swap family in a blink of an eye, everything to take this burden off of Sirius’s shoulders.

“Is he okay?” James whispered, startling you. He bent down, placing a soft kiss on your head. “I don’t know, Jamie. He had a breakdown, now he is asleep. I don’t know how to help him, I don’t want him to suffer like this every month.”

“I know, love, I know. You’re doing your best, and he appreciates it. But” He looked at you embarrassed, and you already knew what was going on, you sighed. “Remus just finished his test, and he’s going kind of nuts, he wants you by his side. You should go”

“Can’t he just come here, so we could cuddle?”

“I don’t know, love. This moon seems different, he got a lot more possessive over you. He just wants you for himself, I think we’re going to fix this before the next month, but for now, I think you should go”

You nodded, looking down art Sirius for the last time, before looking for Remus.

You prayed Sirius didn’t feel abandoned by you,  but you still had James to count on.

On Thursday, you stayed in bed all day with Remus. You studied, of course, and he seemed happy to have you around. You didn’t see Sirius at all, given the fact that you stayed at your dorm, but you thought that James was handling him well.

Exactly, you thought, because, as you and Remus took your seats for the Friday’s night Quidditch game, after having studied all day in the library, you felt a bit anxious. You told yourself you were being paranoid, but deep down, you knew something was off, and when Sirius entered the Quidditch pitch, you knew he wasn’t okay. He didn’t come to greet you, didn’t even look at you, and when you shoot a glance at James, he just averted his gaze: you were fucked.

You took a deep breath and snuggled closer to Remus, his clinginess now comforting, as the game begun. From the first actions, you knew that they were going to lose: Sirius looked like he wasn’t even trying, while James was too preoccupied to check on him to score a single goal.

And as the game ended, you knew your night was going to be an awful one: Gryffindor just lost the game.

[navybrat817]

" Scraping their teeth over your neck to have a shiver of arousal run down your spine. "

With Bucky. 🥺

This probably didn't go the way anyone wants, nonnie, and I'm sorry!

Give Me a Name

Pairing: Mob!Bucky Barnes x Agent!Female Reader Summary: Someone put their hands on you and Bucky can't let it go. Word Count: Over 1.1k Warnings: Tension, threat of violence (not against reader), very minor injury, pet names, possessive behavior, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: Because who doesn't want a mob boss obsessed with them? ❤️ Edit by the talented @nixakimbo. Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Today was a not-so-friendly reminder that mistakes in your job weren’t so easy to fix. You had been in pursuit of a target for weeks and finally managed to catch him. The rookie agent, however, didn’t secure the cuffs and the bastard managed to get a hard hit in when he broke free. The dizziness from the blow was enough to let him get away.

The rookie went after him, but you knew he wouldn’t catch him. You’d have to start all over with tracking him and you didn’t even get a chance to go home to lick your wounds. Not when Bucky’s men showed up and put you in a car.

You should’ve known they were close by.

“I can walk!” You argued minutes later when they brought you to the Barnes mansion. The mob boss had a few homes, but this one had been in the family for years. He had invited you here before, but never took you by force.

Until today.

The men carefully arranged you on a leather sofa in the den before one of them went to get their boss. He hadn’t left the room before the door flew open, the very man he went to find standing there with a look thunderous enough to kill. He snatched something out of one of his soldier’s hands before he went to you, no one daring to speak a word.

You held your breath as you glanced at Bucky. He had the sleeves of his black shirt rolled up as he assessed you, the veins in his arms popped out as he clenched his fists. He was built like a soldier with his massive frame, his life story told in the tattoos and scars that adorned his covered skin. The notorious crime lord more than earned his reputation and he promised he’d tell you his story himself one day.

Today wouldn’t be that day.

He brushed some of his long hair from his eyes before crouching down beside you. He didn’t take his eyes off you as he dabbed at your cheek with the cloth. He stopped when you winced, but you gave him a small smile to let him know he could continue. You didn’t expect tenderness from such a rough man, but you were different to him, weren’t you? You had been since the two of you crossed paths some time ago. Why?

What made you so special?

“Who did this to you?” He asked in a low voice. You could hear that he tried to keep the raging storm inside of him, but his icy eyes showed you everything. The growing fury was bound to come out. Who would he destroy in his path to sate the beast?

“Bucky. I’m fine,” you croaked as you tried to sit up more, but he stopped you from moving. “The guy got lucky and it isn’t anything I haven’t faced before. Just let me get back to work,” you said.

You noticed most of the men nearby avoided eye contact when you looked around. They had every reason to be afraid. James Buchanan Barnes was downright terrifying when crossed.

And crossing you was a worse offense in his eyes.

“Give me a name,” Bucky demanded, though he didn't raise his voice. “Tell me his fucking name so I can take care of it.”

“I can’t,” you whispered. If you did, he’d kill him. No, he’d torture him first. Likely for days on end before he begged for death. And you needed him alive.

That was your job.

Yet, you could never find it in yourself to bring Bucky in.

“Don’t make me shoot you.”

You froze at the cold tone before you realized Bucky didn’t direct that statement at you. One of his men standing feet away turned his head to the side because he got caught staring. You should’ve known better. Whatever cat and mouse game you and the mob boss were playing, it was for him to catch you in his trap, but never hurt you.

Not when he wanted to keep you.

“I’m sorry, boss,” the man promised, his tone wavering when Bucky reached for one of his pistols. “I-”

“‘Cause I’ll do it in a heartbeat and never look back if you glance at her again,” he promised. He was a man of his word. “Leave us. All of you. Now.”

“Bucky, it’s okay,” you assured him as they filed out. The men were dangerous, but you weren’t about to let him shoot the poor guy for looking your way.

“It isn't okay. Someone put their hands on you,” he nearly growled, the soft touch to your cheek a stark contrast to his voice. “You think I can let that go? I can’t. I won’t.”

You brought a hand up to tuck a few strands of his hair behind his ear. His eyes shut for a moment and grabbed your wrist before you could pull away. He dragged your fingers through the short beard along his jaw, like he was starved of your touch and needed more. You didn’t want to admit how much you wanted him.

Not when you belonged in different worlds.

“You don’t have to ‘avenge’ me, Bucky, because I’m not yours,” you said carefully. Were you telling him for his sake or yours? “Let it go. Please.”

The storm continued to rage in his eyes when he opened them and you wondered who would win the battle of the wills. You held your breath again when he moved close, the scent of his woodsy cologne making your head spin. Instead of brushing his lips against yours, he brought his mouth to your neck. Scraping his teeth over your pulse, you couldn’t stop the shiver of arousal that moved down your spine.

“You are mine, Kisa,” he whispered, giving your neck another nip as you tried not to whimper. “And I’m going to find out who did this whether you tell me or not. And I’m going to kill him.”

Your heart shouldn’t have raced faster at his declaration. “If I tell you, will you let me go home?”

“You are home,” he replied, pulling away and looking into your eyes so you could see how serious he was. “And I’d feel a lot better if you got some rest in my bedroom.”

You shuddered because you both knew you wouldn’t get a wink of rest if he took you to bed. And if you slept with him, there would be no turning back. “You can’t keep me prisoner here, Winter.”

The cold and ruthless man who only wanted you.

“You’re not my prisoner, Kisa,” he said, pressing his lips softly to your pained cheek. “But I’m never letting you go.”

He’d prove that to you.

I don't know about you lovelies, but I kind of love them. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[rafesslxt]

✧.* 𝑭𝑨𝑽𝑶𝑹𝑰𝑻𝑬 𝑨𝑭𝑭𝑨𝑰𝑹 | 𝑺𝒂𝒎 𝑴𝒐𝒏𝒓𝒐𝒆

summary: you and Sam have a secret affair while your bf is his enemy. when you call him to pick you up in that slutty outfit of yours, he shows you what you‘ve missed while partying. - based on this request

warnings: smut!, arguing, cheating, mention of alcohol, smoking, oral (on both), unprotected p in v, cum, choking, orgasm denial, breeding kink, 69 position, dirty talk, dom!Sam but still whimpering here and there bc you cannot tell me he wouldn't

words: 6,5k (bro WHAT) + it‘s 5am so sorry for typos i‘ll correct later

"Don't tell me you're wearing that!" Sam's voice echoes through my room when he stares with jaw down at the dress I changed into. "Sam, it's none of your concern." I sigh, combing lightly through my curls so I don't separate them too much.

It was supposed to be a mistake, a drunken slip, a one time thing. It's been three weeks now and I can't force myself to pull away from the grip he has on me and I don't think he even knows how powerful that grip really is.

It's like I can finally breath again when I'm with him, even If it's never for long or outside our rooms. Currently he's at mine. He came over when I told him I'm getting ready for a party and well - one thing led to another and now he's sitting on my bed with his clothes back on (imagine it like in the picture at the top) watching me getting ready again.

"Are you gonna fuck him?" he asks, jealousy dripping from his voice. "No." I shake my head and glare at him through the mirror. I'm sitting in front of. Since I started sleeping with Sam I didn‘t let him touch me and Sam knew.

I notice him standing up from my bed and slowly stalking over to my chair. He leans down so his head is at the height of my ear. "| want him to fuck you, so you know I can do it better." he almost demands, suddenly tugging my head back with a hard grip on my curls I just styled so perfectly.

"Sam!" I hiss and roll my eyes at him while he still holds my head back. "You're gonna listen to me m'kay?" I gulp and loom at him through my long lashes, batting them at him. He leans closer again and I see his face upside down from my position.

"If you leave wearing that, then the second you come back I'll bend you over everything possible."

I feel the heat creeping up my neck upwards my cheeks, leaving a slight red tint behind. "You belong to me, don't forget that." he mumbles against my lips so soft that you could think he just said the most beautiful thing but his hard grip in my hair reminds me of the opposite.

I know he's obsessive, possessive, jealous. Kind of funny when you think about the fact that he's the affair with me having a boyfriend. And on top of that, his biggest rival. "Enemy" how my boyfriend James would always say.

James. He's the complete opposite from Sam. Mean, bully, rich, entitled, popular, typical jock. I forgot a long time ago why I am in a relationship with him in the first place.

I remember how he alway told me to stay away from Sam when I met him in the cafeteria in school for the first time. Not even a minute after James came and dragged me away from him, not without insulting Sam for speaking to me of course. I smiled at him apologetic, not understanding what was supposed to be wrong with him.

James said Sam's a lot into drugs and stuff but I didn't care. Half of the school is and as long as he's not harming others with it, I really couldn't care less.

I feel Sam's lips ghosting over mine, teasing me with with his hot breath. I love how he kisses me. It's always so full of life, passion and longing. When James kisses me it's just eager, sloppy and wet. Sam kisses like his life depends on it. As If he can't breathe properly but when his lips touch mine.

"Sam.." I breath out in a whiny tone. "Dress like a slut and I'll treat you like one. I don't kiss sluts." he whispers against my lips before pulling away and letting go of my hair. I sigh in frustration when he let's go of me and apply my blush with a pout on my face.

I hear him chuckle behind me, he probably saw the look on my face. "Don't pout angel, write me when you're on your way home later alright?" he grins at me, putting on his shoes and opening my window to climb out of it. I roll my eyes at him playfully, hiding a smile with it when I already feel the excitement in my chest knowing I'll see him later.

And with that he climbs outside and closes the window behind him, winking at me before walking away. It's a miracle to me how he tells me I'm a slut and how he calls me angel the next minute. He always does this, making me feel alive, giddy, like a fucking teenager.

Wait, I am a teenager. But I mean like a teenager with no experiences or one that never talked to a boy before.

I concentrate on my face in the mirror again, applying my favorite lipgloss before I take my purse and throw the lipgloss in it. "Bye Mom!" I shout through the house when I open the front door, hearing her calling me to have a good time and not come home too late.

I love her, she's not too strict and understands me, not forgetting how her life was when she was young like me. But at the same time she would kill for me and protect me from everything. It's a great balance. She trusts me and I don't overstep boundaries.

When I arrive at the party I dressed up for, I can already smell the alcohol and weed from a mile afar through my car window. I roll it up and park a few houses further away when I see everything full of cars.

But what did I expect right? It's James, I mean everyone in either jealous of him or of me because they wanna be with him. If they only knew how easy I would trade that ticket. So of course his birthday party would explode of people. He lives in a big house, his parent's house of course but I think he mentioned something of them being on vacation for two weeks.

I grab the birthday present that rots since two weeks at the backseat of my car and get out of it, making sure that I closed the doors properly. My stomach wrenched and the closer that I get the more my head is starting to get dizzy from all the weed clouds around me.

I greet a few people that I know, hug some of my 'friends' from our friend group and slowly get inside. The air inside is a little better but still smells like alcohol and sweat from the dancing body's in the big living room. "Y/N!" I hear someone shouting over the music. I turn around and notice James' best friend coming towards me.

"Hey Mike, how are you?" I ask him trying to be polite but the truth is the more seconds passed, the more I wanted to throw my gift at James and get the hell out of here. There was a time were I loved nights like these right I front of me. Where I was one of the dancing body's sweating and drinking, sometimes even smoking. But now I just felt so - out of place.. wrong.

"I'm good, I'm good. I guess you're looking for your boyfriend? He's in the backyard with the rest." I smile at him and nod, thanking him for telling me before I watch him disappearing back into the crowd.

I let out a deep breath. I got this. It's just one night. A few hours, right? And then I'll be at Sam's. God I have to stop thinking about him like that, he's just.. sex, right?

I walked into the kitchen, looking for something to normal to drink but of course they only bought alcohol. I took a red plastic cup and filled it up with tap water, taking a big chuck from it, trying to calm my nerves a little. Oh fuck it. I grabbed a whiskey bottle and filled my cup up with Pepsi and the alcohol in my hand. Yeah, that's better for calming nerves. I mean, I'm already here so why not try to have at least a little fun.

With the drink in my hand I leave the kitchen and open the glass doors t the back yard where James is supposed to be. And doesn't take me long to find him with 'the rest' how Mike said. 'The rest' is usually our friend group. I like them, I really do. But they're just.. not that deep. It's fun to party with them, go to school with them - well the ones that don't skip all of their classes, and maybe even talking about little problems like arguing with parents or fights with boyfriends and girlfriends. But that's as far as it goes.

Maybe that's the reason why I feel so comfortable around Sam. I remember the first night we had sex, he lit up a J afterwards and asked me If I wanted to. I shook my head and sat on my rooftop with him, watching the stars. I never talked to him a lot before, like I said James kept me far away from him, but still we talked abut everything that came to our minds.

Aliens, the universe, the stars, the whole fucking galaxy. How does everything work? Is the government telling us everything? Are there already people on our earth that don't come from here? Maybe it was the weed, but I don't think so. It felt natural to talk with him. Having a good laugh for the first time win months.

My heart starts to race when I think about that night with him. Sometimes I wonder If I'm - no. That couldn't be. It can't be. He would never also. Right?

I get thrown out of my thoughts when I feel two arms sliding around my body from behind. "Hey baby." a deep voice whispers into my ear. I know it's James. I smell his cologne and obviously I recognize his voice. His breath smells like alcohol, a lot alcohol.

"Hey James. Happy Birthday." I force a smile on my lips and turn around in his grip. He kisses me and cups my face in his hands, squeezing my cheeks together. "Thank's babe. Why are you standing here tho? Come on let'S go to our friends." He takes my hand into his and pulls me towards a little chill lounge where everyone sat with drinks or J's in their hands. "Hey guy's!" I greet every single one of them before sitting down next to my boyfriend.

"Here, for you." I smile at him and give im his present. "Thank you baby." he smiles brightly when he opens it and see's what's inside. "Hell yeah!" he grins and pulls out a pair of shoes. To be honest, I don't know what's so special about him but I knew he talked 24/7 about them with Mike and how hard they are to get to I asked a friend of my dad who had a lot of connections when it was about fashion.

"They are great, thank you baby." He gives me another kiss, sloppy and a little too wet. God how I missed Sam's lips and - no. "Yeah, no problem." I answer, trying to hold my smile up.

The night went by slow, my mind racing with the wrong thoughts when you're considering I'm sitting right next to my boyfriend. He has his hand on my thigh, and his other one around his red cup filled with liquor.

At some point I started to take drink after drink, probably not being able to drive later. I took out my phone, reading some messages I have gotten. Two from my best friend Lisa, who lives in New York, sadly, and one from Sam. My heart starts racing again so I take another sip from my drink before opening it.

"How's the party going?"

I try to hide a smile when suddenly a evil little idea gets to my head. Everyone around my was busy ding something so no eyes were on me when I took a photo of James hand on my thigh and send it to Sam with a little message.

"How I wish it was your's."

I bite the inside of my cheek when I wait for an answer, not expecting it to come as quick as it does.

"Is that you'r way of showing me how sorry you are for ging out like that?"

I swallow down the clump in my throat and try to ignore the bad feeling in my stomach. Is he mad? Was it a bad idea to send him a picture? I know he's a jealous type but I already have too much alcohol in my veins to be reasonable.

I lean backwards against the lounge I'm sitting on and take another picture. This time of my face and cleavage not letting a lot to the imagination. I bite down on my bottom lip and smirk into the little camera of my phone, looking up as innocently as possible.

"How about I show you how sorry I am later?"

What I don't know is how Sam's breath got stuck when he saw my message. He looked at it, imagining how he would rip that damn dress off and fuck me through the whole night. His hand wanders down to his hard cock, massaging it slightly through his sweatpants. A quite moan leaves his lips when he stares at the way I bite down on my lip. "Little minx." he mutters to himself when he closes the picture and let's go of his boner.

"Trust me, you'll be sorry. Have fun at your little party, angel."

With a smile on my lips I put my phone away again, grabbing my cup. "Why're you smiling like that? Who texted you?" the voice of James ask me, making me jump a little. "Huh?" I look up at him when he towers his head over me a little. " I saw you texting and smiling. Who texted you?" he repeats himself, a serious look on his face.

I sigh when I knew how this would go. I mean, he's right and If we're being honest, I'm cheating on him There's nothing romantic or noble behind this. He's right. But at the same time, he was jealous in a little meaner way than Sam is. I never cheated on James before and even two years ago when we started dating, he always accused me of cheating on him or texting other boys when in reality I've never done such a thing.

Oh, there even was a rumor once that he cheated on me with a girl from our friend group, Amanda. She's nice. But also knew it was true that she had an eye on James.

"Lisa texted me." Well, that wasn't a lie. "Oh yeah? And what made you smile about it?" he asks, glaring at me. I roll my eyes at him and look away, knowing he hates it. So I'm not really surprised when he pulls my face back into his direction and repeats himself again.

"What made you smile, y/n?" "Oh my god she's my best friend and lives in another state! I was just happy she texted me!" I groan annoyed and stand up from my seat, his hand dropping from my thigh. "Where are you going?" he calls after me but also doesn't make any attempt on following me so I ignore his words and walk back inside through the house and up some stairs that I know lead to a bathroom.

When I get inside I lock the door behind me and let out a deep breath. I pull my phone out of my purse and look for a certain name in my contact. I hold it against my ear when it starts ringing on the other side. Not even two rings later he picks up.

"What's up, angel?" Sam smiles into the phone. "Miss you.." I mumble into the phone, sitting down on the edge of the bathtub behind me. I hear him chuckling. "Then leave, it's that easy." "You know its's not." I argue, pouting while looking into the mirror over the sink. I run a finger over the corner of my mouth, taking off a little of my smudged lipgloss.

he sighs into the phone now too so I continue talking. "he's gonna ask where I'm going and then will insist on one of his friend bringing me home just so he knows I'm not going anywhere else. And If I go without telling him he'll literally stand in front of my house after at least an hour."

"Break up with him." he says. "What?" I gasp, surprised he said that. I mean yes it is obvious that I should but not one time one of us really spoke these words. "You're not happy with him and you'll never be. You should find someone where you are." Someone. I don't know if it's the feeling slowly creeping up my neck and spilling over after holding them in for so long or simply the alcohol but I only scoff and roll my eyes.

"Yeah, right. Someone." my voice sounds cold and distant, pissed. "Y/n was you know what I mean.." "No, Sam. Actually I don't" Silence. And another sting I feel in my heart.

"See you, Sam." I chuckle sarcastically and press the red button on my phone. Not a second later I hear someone knocking on the door. "Y/n? Are you inside??" I groan when I hear James voice. God why can't he just leave me alone.

I stand up from the bathtub and walk over to the door, unlocking it. "Oh, Mike." I say, realizing it's not James. "Uh- James told me to look after you." "Oh, great? And he couldn't do it by himself?" I scoff, pushing past his best friend. I hear him sigh too and walk after me. "You know how he is." "An asshole?" I state, looking at him. He just grins and shrugs. "It's fine. I just wanna be alone for a moment, okay?" "Okay." He nods slowly and leaves.

I really don't know why he's keeping up with James bullshit. He's way too smart and nice for all of this. Well, just like me.

Still annoyed I wander through the hall of this ridiculous huge house, scanning all these portraits and pictures on the walls. My parents are rich too, really rich but this is just.. hideous A family of 5 living in a house as big at the fucking White House.

My mind races with thought when I suddenly hear voices whispering and giggling. I knit my eyebrows and try to be as quiet as possible to hear them again. They lead me to a big door to which I press my ear against. I recognize the voices but I couldn't quite put my finger on who they were so nosy me slowly opens the door a little just to take a little peep.

I didn't expect to see what was I front of me. My boyfriend. And Amanda. Making out on a couch. "When are you finally breaking up with her?" I hear Amanda whine like the little bitch she is. "I don't know. I told you this is just a one time thing Amanda." he answers.

What is going on? "One time thing? You're telling me four months are a one time thing for you?" she argues back. What did she just say? Four months? I close the door and take a step back.

I mean I know I'm cheating on him too. I'm no saint. But fucking four months? At the same time, I go inside myself for a moment and try to feel anything. But nothing. Not a single tear, not a single ache in my heart. I feel.. relieved? Am I crazy? My boyfriend of two years cheats on me and I feel relieved?

I quietly walk back down the hall, back down the stairs to the party. It's over. It's fucking over. I feel a smile creeping up my face when I walk outside into the backyard again. "Hey y/n, everything good?" A girl named Jessy asks me. I smile at her, almost laughing. "I'm feeling as good as never before." A giggle slips out my mouth when I sit down and take another drink from the table. They share a few looks but I couldn't care less.

I take out my phone and open the chat between me and Sam. Just now I see he texted me right after our phone call.

You know what I meant y/n.

It's complicated.

Please don't ignore me.

Are you still coming over later? I miss you

Miss your tight litte pussy around my cock

I roll my eyes at the last message but chuckle.

Oh and I know you just rolled your eyes at that

Wanna see your pretty (your eye color) eyes roll back when I fuck your attitude out of you

I quickly type in my answer, sending it with no regret now.

Can you come pick me up Sammy? I'm drunk and I want you, please.

Of course angel. Where do you want me to park? The street before the main?

Just park in front of the house

He was surprised at my massage but shrugged it off.

Alright. Gonna be there in 30.

I tucked my phone away again, taking in a deep breath. The excitement crept up in my chest again. Now that I knew James cheated on me too, I had a much less guilty for doing it with Sam. Old me would have ripped her hair out when I saw her sitting on my boyfriends - ex-boyfriends lap. But you know what? Let her have him. I know he's bad in bed. Let her realize one day she's off better.

After only fifteen minutes I heard them coming outside together, giggling slightly before sitting back down and pretending nothing happened. I played dumb and smiled at James. "Hey, where have you been? I looked for you." Yeah, let him sweat a little. "Oh uh- I looked for you too, I've sent Mike to tell you." he grumbled, glaring at his best friend.

"Hm, weird. And why did you came outside with her?" I point at Amanda, who looks at me like a deer in the lights. "She uh- she helped me. She helped me looking for you.." he stumbles over his own words.

I just nod when I felt my phone vibrating.

I'm here. Drove faster.

I smile at Sam's message and stand up without saying a word. "Where are you going?" James asks, this time following me. Amanda and Mike stand up too, following him like fucking puppy's.

"Home." I say, shrugging with my shoulders without looking at him. " You're drunk. Let Mike drive you home, he didn't have that much." he tries. "Oh don't worry, my drive is already here silly." I giggle, my stomach tingling in the best way possible when I see Sam's car lights through the windows.

"What do you mean?" James asks me mad, walking a bit faster now to keep up with me. I walk through the living room again and then outside the front yard where I see Sam leaning against the passenger seat door.

Before walking towards him I stop and turn around. "James, it's over. I'm not mad at you okay? I did the same. I'm just so relieved that you obviously feel the same about our relationship." He looks at me dumbfounded. "What are you talking about?" I roll my eyes and laugh at his words. "Oh come on. I saw you and Amanda and I heard you too and don't even try to deny it please cause I'm fucking someone else too."

I see the anger creeping up his face, ignoring the fact that he's cheating on me completely. "WHAT? Who the fuck are you talking about?" Then it hits him. He looks at me and beside me in the distance, he recognizes Sam standing against his car.

"You've got to be fucking kissing me you dumb slut!" he starts shouting and insulting me but I turn around and walk to Sam. I notice him looking at me confused but I just straight walk towards him, push myself against him and kiss him with all the passion inside me, in front of everyone.

I hear James yelling in the background, Mike probably holding him back. Sam's lips move against mine, his hands wandering up my sides, gripping the flesh beneath his fingers. "Fuck, what's that all about huh?" he mumbles against my lips, pulling away slightly.

Out of nowhere I feel the heat pooling in my stomach, yelling at me to finally fuck him. "I want you Sam. Want you to fuck me stupid." I had to giggle, I can't stop it. God he has to think I'm ging literally crazy but he just bites his lips and pushes me inside his car, driving off with me.

"What happened in there?" he chuckles and gazes at me for a second before returning his eyes back to the road in front of us. 

"You'll never believe! When I hang up I wandered around the house and found him with Amanda, making out and her saying that they are fucking for four months now. And I - I just felt so free all of a sudden. No tear no anger, nothing. Just free." I ramble my words down, smiling the whole time.

"So I got you for myself now huh?" I don't know why but my cheeks burned like hell when he said that. Did he want me for himself? I mean yeah well who wants to share but like- does he want me or want me?

When we arrive his house, he parks in front of the house, helping me out of the car and inside the house. "Your Dad home?" I whisper to him when we walk up the stairs to his room. He shakes his head and grins devilish. "He's camping or something. Means you can be as loud as you want, angel." I bite my lip at his comment and rush upstairs with him, him basically throwing me onto his bed but upside down, so my head is at the edge of the bed.

"Remember what I told you If you go out in that outfit, I'm gonna fuck you over everything possible?" he remarks with his voice so raspy in my ears. I bite down on my lip again, nodding and trying to hide a smile but failing miserable. "This will be the last time you're laying on this bed for tonight." he grins down at me and leans down towards my lips, licking over my bottom lip before kissing me.

I hum against his lips when I feel him nibbling on mine. When he pulls away his breathing gets heavier. Is he just as excited as I am? He puts a hand on my cheek and strokes the skin with his thumb. "You're gonna be a good girl, angel?" "Hmm of course."

"Good, then do what I say, alright?" he half demands. I see him opening his belt, and pulling down the zipper of his jeans. "You got me so fucking hard you have no idea." he chuckles while pushing everything in the way down.

No matter how often I see his cock, it always amazes me again how big he is, his pretty pink tip leaking pre-cum. He takes a step closer to the bed again and grabs my arms, pulling me so much that my head hangs over the edge. "You're gonna suck my cock and maybe I'll play with you." I nod eagerly and open my mouth for him, ready to take him in.

He takes his dick into his own hand and rubs it teasingly against my lips, biting down on his own lip. I sneak out my tongue and lick off the salty essence from his tip, letting it slide over and over it again.

"Hmm.." then out of nowhere, he pushes in, almost choking me with it. His eyes roll back before he moves his hips, fucking my mouth without giving me a moment to get comfortable. "Shit, it alway surprises me how well you can take it. Let's see how far you can." he groans, pushing his hips deeper.

I try to breathe through my nose and concentrate on pleasuring him, hoping he would reward me for it. "I'm gonna fuck your throat baby, 's that alright?" he asks before pushing in deeper after I nod slightly. "Oh fuck.." he let's out a deep groan and closes his eyes. "I can see my fucking dick in your throat baby. God that's so hot."

His gaze wanders over the rest of my body until he sees my purse beside me, my phone fallen out of it. He leans forwards, choking me even more and takes it into his hands. I see him start taking pictures of it and smiling at them like a artist who just found his muse.

Tears start forming in my eyes due the feeling of him choking me every few seconds. "Fuck you look so pretty when you cry baby but that's your fault hm. Got outside like a little slut. Remember, you act like one, I'll treat you like one." he repeats himself.

I move my tongue up and down at the side of his cock, massaging the prominent vein he has. I hear him whimper slightly, his tough facade faltering a little.

He let's his hands wander over my body, massaging the flesh beneath my dress, pinching my nipples through the fabric making me whine around his cock. "Fuck you like that, right? Think I'm gonna reward you for listening so good." he slowly pulls out his cock and let's me catch my breath. I cough a little and swipe away the tears that started to run down my face.

He looks at me expectingly and raises one of his brows. "Thank you." I choke out to which he nods and leans over my body, pulling up the front of my dress. I hear him chuckle when he notices the wetness soaking through my underwear. "You get off on sucking my cock?"

His fingers ghost over my aching clit, teasing it through the fabric. I whine out loud and push my hips up. "Please, please touch me Sammy." "Hmm but I', already touching you. Gotta be more specific."

"Pleeease, need to feel your mouth. Please." never in my life would I beg any man like that. But for Sam to touch me I would get on my knees and start praying.

He pushes my underwear to the side and laps at my puffy folds, tasting me and groaning. "You taste so good.." then he starts sucking my clit and I almost faint at the feeling. I let out a silent moan, bucking my hips but he presses them down and slightly nibbles at my clit.

"Fuck Sam!" my scream echoes probably through the whole house. "Suck my cock again." he mumbles against my pussy, adding a finger and teasing my entrance with it. I grab his hard cock and wrap my lips around the tip, sucking on it with a lot of pressure. "Oh yeah.." he groans against me, sucking harder on my nub.

I feel his finger entering me slowly, then another one so it's two and curling them up just right. I let out a long moan around him, squeezing my eyes shut. I take him deeper until he hits the back of my throat.

He groans against my clit, making me moan around his cock because of the vibration. It's like an endless circle of pleasure.

He starts pumping his fingers faster, flicking his tongue over my clit like he knows every inch of my body. Well – he does.

Then I start feeling it, the fire pooling in my abdomen. My walls clench around his fingers, signaling him I'm almost there. He let's go of my clit and continues pumping his fingers. "Are you close baby?" he asks tauntingly and puts his thumb on my now sensitive clit, rubbing it without any mercy.

I cry out around his cock, tears running down from all the pleasure around me. Never ever did James make me feel like this just from oral. Then, right before I explode, he stops. Pulls out his fingers and let's go of my pulsing nub, even pulling his cock out of my mouth.

"Sam!" I cry, bucking my hips into the air. "That's for leaving in that fucking dress." he whispers, kneeling down so his face is in front of mine. I huff out some air, pouting when I lose my orgasm.

He grabs my should again and pulls me up, away from the bed. He pushes me towards his desk with a mirror on it, grabbing my neck. " 'm gonna fuck you from behind and you're gonna watch yourself in the mirror, yeah?" "Yes." I answer, leanin forwards, my upper body on his desk now. "Spread your legs." he commands and pushes them apart with his knee.

"Look at that, I don‘t even have to fucking touch your dress, you‘re such a little whore." he spat when he sees my dress isn't covering my ass anymore. A sudden pang hit's me. I look over my shoulder back at him and see him grinning at me, slapping my ass again but this time a lot harder.

I moan when his hand hits my skin, making him smirk even wider. "I should have known you're gonna like that." he pulls my underwear down and positions himself at my entrance. "Beg for it, wanna hear what a little slut you are for me."

"Hm yes your slut only.." I moan and wiggle my hips against him, hoping for some friction. "Please Sam, I need to feel you inside me, please. I've been so good, please." my begging is like music to his ears and before I can see it coming, he pushes inside me with one go.

"Oh fucking hell!" he groans loudly, his mouth wide open and his eyebrows pushed together. "Fuck Sam, I feel you so deep!" I whine, grabbing the edge of the desk. He starts moving his hips, slowly at first and then fast like never before.

The sound of his thrusts, his skin slapping against mine could be heard through the whole house together with our moans and groans. Thank god his Dad is camping.

His right hand finds it way around my throat, squeezing it just lightly to make me feel lightheaded. "Look at yourself." he demands. I bite my lip when I watch him through the mirror. I could see the sweat on his forehead, a few hair strands clinging to it. His eyes are slightly hooded from the pleasure he felt every time my walls massaged his cock just so perfectly.

"So fucking tight I swear If I didn't knew better I would think you're a fucking virgin." I love how dirty his words are, every time. "God, you're milking me." a little whimper leaves his lips when I squeeze my walls around him, the sound going straight to my core, making me clench even more. Like I said before, just a circle of pleasure.

"You know what's the best of it all? At first it was more about fucking his girlfriend, knowing she's coming around my cock. But now I have you all to myself and I'm gonna die before I let anyone else touch you ever again. You're mine now, angel." he pants and Strats to move his hips in a brutal pace now, making me scream out his name.

"Yeah, scream my name so loud the whole fucking neighborhood knows who you belong to, come on." The grip of his hand around my throat get's tighter, making me dizzy but also so soaked.

"I'm gonna fill you up so good until your little cunt is dripping with my cum." I gasp at his words, my walls clenching around him automatically. "Oh you like that baby? Like the idea of me pumping that pussy full with my cum? Shit, you're like a fucking dream. Just as sick and dirty as me." "Sam.. please.." I whine, sobbing at the thought of his words.

"Say it baby, say it, come on. Let me hear it. Fucking let me hear you beg for it." he groans, his cock already throbbing inside of me, ready to bust. "Oh Sammy please, please fill me up. Come inside of me, wanna feel it so bad." I let out a few sobs again, watching him react to my words in the mirror.

His eyes roll back and one of his hands wanders around me, rubbing my clit in circles, adding to the tight feeling in my stomach. "I'm so close.." I whimper, closing my eyes.

"No no no, you're gonna watch yourself come around me." I open my eyes again, feeling tears pooling inside my eyes. I look at the desk beneath me, rocking back and forth, all his school stuff already on the floor. "Sam, please let me come, please."

He lets out a dark laugh and slaps my ass again with much more force than before. "Want me to fill you up real good? Wanna feel my cum dripping down between your pretty thighs? Wanna walk around with my baby inside you? Fuck you would be such a good mommy hm.."

My eyes roll back at his words and the crushing feeling finally explodes inside me, a broken cry leaving my lips when I finally come around him, milking him so good.

"Fuck y-yes oh I'm gonna come. Gonna come in that tight pussy." a whimper leaves him again, adding to the crushing orgasm I have. His grip on my hip and my throat get's tighter, so tight I almost can' breath.

With a loud moan he let's go, spilling his hot seed inside of me. "Shit.." I whimper, feeling him flooding my cunt. When I slowly calm down again, I look over my shoulder, seeing him panting heavily, his chest rosing up and down. He slowly pulls out of me, a little whimper leaving me.

He takes a step back and smirks the he scans my body, his cum running down the inside of my thighs. "Hmm looks so fucking good." He comes closer again and pushes his cum back inside. "Keep it there." he whispers inside my ear, leaving shivers down my spine.

He pulls me back up and hold me when he notices my numb legs. "Don't think I am done with you angel. I said on every fucking surface."

My wide eyes look up at him but only met with his devilish looking ones. "This is gonna be so much fun, angel." he speaks before pushing me against his window, my legs wrapped around his hips.

This is definitely better tan crying after a break up.

Sooooo what do we think? My first Sam Monroe fic 🤝🏻

hope u liked it and thank u for reading! 🖤

My Masterlist

xoxo sarah <3

[fullfriendnerdclutch]

Artie grinned mischievously as his friends profile started to appear one by one. The app linked to the saved contacts in his phone and somehow they managed to extract a fairly accurate profile of Artie's friends, resulting in a couple avatars that Artie can choose and tweak to his likings. The app, called Chronivac, not only changed Artie's physique to look like a 30+ years old hairy muscle hunk, it also molded the reality in accordance to the final prompt Artie typed in, turning the 20 years old college dropout into a bonafide hunk living life lavishly from workout courses and OF, and he's about to spice things up in the life of his dear friends.

He started from Randall.

He started very methodically as he put Randy as the new name. Then, when the profile options opened, he started his work. Get rid of the glasses. Get rid of that acne scar and blackspot. Retain the face but make the jaw angular. Styling the hair so it's no longer greasy and moppy. Face done, now the body

Randall is quite a perv and his biggest turn-on is big titties, but well, most untouched virgin are perv anyway so maybe he should make Randy turned on with himself by giving him this large pair of muscle tits? Lol, that's hilarious, he thought to himself. Humh.....so maybe keep Randy as a 255 lbs fuckers? Well, turn all the fat into muscle and click "Optimize" because he can't be bothered to perfect Randy's muscle distribution.....hot damn that's one massive unit! Finalize the whole change with the short prompt

"Randy is a gym junkie and absolute freak of nature. He's probably the biggest 20 years old in the entire Americas. He's one of my mentee and he looked up to me as his inspiration, he even will not hesitate to take my cock if I instruct him to do so to get bigger, quite the dumb oaf he is,"

Click Save and then Process. Several seconds later, a transformed Randy appeared in the room that Artie booked for this holiday. Randy appeared to be sleeping while he got altered earlier, Artie just realized it's night time in the States so no wonder Randy is asleep. He will check him out later as he still have several more profile to go

Andy. Oh, yeah, the profile arrangement is based on surnames. Coleman, Randall. Garcia, Andy. Andy is Artie's bestfriend from childhood so Artie knows very well what Andy really wanted to look like.

Keep the name and lineage. A little tweak in his testosterone to boost that facial hair growth and make that balls pumped full faster with mini Garcias. Andy admired his hotter, older brother, Juan, so badass and clearly a true symbolism of what Latin American community deemed as macho, so Randall ensured that whatever feature Juan possessed, Andy is going to make that even better. Thicker hair, more defined abs, bigger biceps, bigger triceps, rounder delts, voice that trembles anyone that hear it, obviously bigger uncut piece of meat, more tattoos, all lodged in as part of the new Andy's persona. The avatar is looking quite a looker already so Artie just added a bit of simple prompt, click the Save button and then Process the changes. Andy suddenly appeared in the day bed next to Artie, still sleeping soundly and Artie just smirked as he continued his work

He tweaked Ollie's profile right after, making the pale and lanky 6'5" Norwegian-Lebanese former ballet dancer to be closer to his Lebanese roots as he shrunk him to a 6'1" muscle daddy. Ollie, or Olaf, quickly turned into Ali, and just like Andy, appeared in the same resort where Artie stayed

Michael is supposedly next on the list, but James is already quite distracting for Artie so he decided to work on James first. He's really not that close to James and to be honest, if it's not because James is Andy's college roommate, Artie probably would have 0 interest to befriend him. He might be clouded with jealousy because Andy seemingly enjoyed James company, and even worse, a little crush on him, but well, with a reality-changing app in the palm of his hands, why should he accept things as it is when he can change it? So, rather than focusing on the physical aspect, Artie simply turned his focus to James mental part. He smirked devilishly as he turned the pretty-much straight James into a horny, lustful bottom. Artie practically emasculated James and he felt zero remorse whatsoever as he then added to the prompt that James tagged along to this trip as he's a clingy cum dump that Michael fucked once in the seedy bar that he and Andy frequented. Yup, that's the plot of his change to the innocent Michael.

Artie quickly tweaked Michael profile, the smallest and shiest one in the friend group is now the horny beast who needs to fuck a hole in daily basis. Artie based all of them in the same city, the same apartment building even and then created this whole backstory of their ascendancy to the top of OF and independent adult industry in Michael's prompt space. When he clicked Process, the sound of James moaning in delight echoed all the way to the swimming pool, Michael is basically fucking the shit out of James

The noise also managed to wake Andy's up. Despite seemingly confused at first, Andy quickly find his senses and instead of freaking out or reacted in surprise, he seems to be very much comfortable and at home. Artie sighed with relief, thrilled that his little handiwork resulted nicely.

It seems like that Andy is totally not aware that his life has been dramatically altered by his own best friend that just whipped out his cock from the swimming shorts he's wearing. With a grin while his right hand started pumping his meaty cock and the phone flipped and locked in the table, Artie said

"Care to help a friend here? We can drench Ali to wake the fucker's up when we are close,"

[kayhi808]

I know you done a lot with the idea of the dance for first crush and if you want to ignore that’s totally fine, I completely understand, but I love the idea when Bucky brings Abby back, Abby is frustrated with why all the women trying to flirt with him like she doesn’t understand the concept of the flirting and why they wouldn’t take no for an answer and pouting while she tells you all about it while getting her ready for bed or during a dinner/snack

( I am loving this series rn I’m always excited to see that you’ve added more to it ❤️❤️)

Hahaha You want to see Abby go on a rant? Your wish is granted. Lol. She's a possessive little thing!

There's a knock at the door and a loud, "Mama! We home!"

Checking the time, that's odd, they should still be a the dance. You open the door, to find your annoyed looking daughter and a sheepish looking Bucky. Abby stomps into the apartment, Bucky gives you a kiss and a quiet laugh.

You turn to Abby who's leaning against the couch. "Hey, is that how you greet your Mama?"

Abby breaks into a smile and skips over to you. You scoop her up and she kisses your cheek. "I sowwy, Mama!"

You sit on the couch with her in your lap and unbuckle her shoes. "You want to tell me why you're in such a mood?" Bucky brings her, her water flask and sits by you both. "You're back early, did you have fun?"

"A widdle bit." Bucky shakes his head.

"Did Chloe and Mia show up?"

"Oh yes!" Breaking into a big smile, "They came with their Daddies and they so nice and funny! We like them, yeah Bucky?"

"Yea, they were great."

"Oh ok, that's good. What happened to make the dance only a little bit fun?"

Abby gets out of your lap & stands on the couch with her arms folded across her chest. "I don't wike Megan's mommy." She gives you a scowl.

"Did she do something to you?" You look at Bucky over Abby's shoulder & he silently shakes his head, no.

"I brings Bucky," pointing to him, "He's mines date, right?!"

Nodding in agreement, already knowing where this is headed and trying to keep the smile to yourself. "Right, he's your date."

"Ok! Den why she...she touch him?" Her shoulders are hiked up to under her ears and palms up. "Hmmm? Why?" Waving her hand at Bucky, "Hims is mine!"

You squint at Bucky, "She touched him, huh?"

"She didn't...."

"Yes, she did, Mama!" Abby moves over to Bucky, and touches his arm, "She touch his arm, like dis." Then Abby leans into Bucky & gets in his face, & tries batting her lashes at him. "And she make like dis." Abby turns to her mom with a look of disgust.

Bucky cracks up laughing, "Abigail!"

"She did that to him??"

"Yes! Ands you knows what else, Mama?" Abby returns to your lap & takes a sip of water after her rant.

"No, tell me more, baby." You cock an eyebrow at Bucky & he laughs some more.

"She's old and she can'ts READ!" Pointing to Bucky's sticker. "It says James and she call him Bucky!" Abigail is outraged. "She not his fwends. Only fwends can."

"Wow!"

"And you know what, Mama?"

You cover your mouth trying to hide your amusement, because this is very serious business. "No, Abby, what?"

"Bucky dance wit ME and she tries to takes him! She says I need to share." Shaking her head, "I don't hafta shares wit her. I told her I don't want to. She not my Mama, she can't tells me to do that."

"Absolutely!

"And den she want to dance wit him next and I say no cos we going to home to you and she can't come. We cannot be's fwends wit her!" She leans back against your chest & drinks her water.

"Oh my goodness, you had your work cut out for you today, protecting Bucky. You did such a good job, I think you deserve pizza tonight." You kiss the top of her head.

"Yay!! Tank you, Mama!"

@waywardhunter95 @wintrsoldrluvr @rebeccapineapple @ordelixx @onceithough @thezombieprostitute @ilovetaquitosmmmm @julvrs @unaxv @s-a-v-a-n-a-34 @winterslove1917 @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @mrsnikstan @hisredheadedgoddess28 @itsteambarnes @otterlycanadian @purplecolordeer @samsgirl93 @buckitostan @blackbirdwitch22 @littleredwolf @mcucatlady @silas-aeiou @hzdhrtss @florie1 @thecubanator2 @enchantedbarnes @selella @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @cjand10 @pancake-05 @ozwriterchick @crazyunsexycool @baw1066 @jvanilly @nommingonfood

[banana-with-a-bow-tie]

is being gay/trans REALLY a sin? Is being attracted to the same sex/wanting to dress as the gender you feel you should be really all that bad to christians? Why do christians care what people do with their own lives to the point that they tell them it’s “sin”

I'm seeing three questions here. 1. What is sin? 2. How do we know something is a sin? 3. Why do Christians care if people sin?

What is a sin?

In order to understand what sin is you need to understand who God is. God is good. He does not just possess good or desirable qualities. He is good. The word "good" comes directly from the word God because God is the very standard of what it means for something to be good. We can say things like flowers and sunsets and sharing are good because they are based on God who is the source of everything good (James 1:17).

God is also our Creator. He designed us according to His perfect goodness so that we could be like Him and walk in His good ways (Psalm 25:8; Hebrews 12:10). God would be unloving to create the world and not follow His goodness.

Sin, then, is our rebellion against God and His goodness. When Adam and Eve first sinned, they were tempted with the idea that they could be like God and decide what is good and evil for themselves. They wanted to be able to say, "God is not king, I am king. God's ways are not good, my desires are good."

This is a lie from the father of lies. Satan wants us to believe that if I just do whatever I think is best then I will find true goodness and satisfaction, but all it does is lead us further and further away from true goodness which comes from communion with God (Psalm 34:10).

2. How do we know something is a sin?

When Adam and Eve sinned, our communion with God died. We all like sheep went astray and turned aside to our own ways. (Isaiah 53:6). We stopped listening to God's loving care and instead started following our hearts, but our hearts are deceitful and wicked beyond understanding (Jeremiah 17:9).

We cannot listen to our attractions or our feelings because we are attracted to and find pleasure in things that God declares are evil, things that are contrary to His good design. If people did not find pleasure in things like cheating on your spouse or stealing, then they would never do it. They are drawn into wrongdoing by their own wicked desires (James 1:14).

But God is still good. He has not left us without a witness. He has given a conscience to people who are hostile to Him so that even they can recognize when their desires are not good. We all know inherently that lying is bad, that pride is bad, that fighting and anger are bad, because God has hidden His law in our hearts (Romans 2:15).

However, because we have deceitful rebellious hearts, we try to justify ourselves and explain it away and muffle the conscience so it can't bother us any more, like searing your hand with a hot iron so it can't feel anything (1 Timothy 4:2).

The only way we can know something is sinful is by God giving us new life and enabling us to trust in the goodness of His Word again. We can know with certainty that all sexual desire outside of marriage is sin because God told us it defies His character and people do it because they want to rebel against Him, so God gives them what they want (Romans 1:24-25).

3. Why do Christians care if people sin?

Ray Comfort tells a story about a man who hated homosexuals. There was a broken elevator in his building with a sign on it that said "DANGER! OUT OF ORDER!" The hateful man saw two lesbians approaching the elevator so he took the sign down so they would use it and fall to their deaths.

God has given us a clear warning in Scripture that following your heart is dangerous. It's like an addictive drug, numbing your mind with pleasure so you don't realize it's killing you. If someone you loved was overdosing in front of you, you wouldn't say "whatever man, live your truth." You would shake them awake so they could see what is happening to them and try to get them help. If I believe that God's warning is telling the truth, the most unloving and hateful thing I can do is not tell anyone about it. Woe to me if I see judgment coming and don't tell anyone how to be saved (Ezekiel 33:6)!

Christians aren't trying to control you or force you to follow their personal preferences. Some people who profess Christ do that, but mostly we have met a God who loves us, who saw us hurtling in a downward spiral of guilt and shame and earning eternal punishment for our crimes against Him, and choosing to show us forgiveness in an unfathomably kind way.

Every single one of us has disobeyed God and tried to take His place on the throne. We all stand guilty before God not just for things like murder or homosexuality, but for lying and envy and idolatry. We have broken God's laws and because He is good, He cannot leave evil unpunished. The wages of sin is death (Romans 6:23). Every single one of us dies because it is what we have earned for ourselves. We deserve for God to give us His wrath and anger for waging war against Him (Romans 1:18).

But God is rich in mercy and abounding in love even to those who hate Him. We owe God a righteous life, but none of us are righteous, so God decided to wipe away our debt by living the perfect life for us. God became a man, Jesus, lived a perfect life, then died on a cross, taking the wrath of God we deserved, then rose again on the third day, proving that the price had been paid, then He ascended to God's right hand to offer Himself as the reason people can stand before God as righteous.

God does not delight in the death of the wicked. He does not want you to keep trying to find your identity in yourself. He wants you to know Him and His love for you. He wants to wipe away your sin and make you white as snow. What you need to do is confess your sin to God, which means to agree that you are guilty of rebellion against Him and that He is truly Lord, and you must believe that He will forgive your sin and give you eternal life because of what Jesus did for you on the cross. God is faithful and just to forgive the sin of anyone who asks Him (1 John 1:9)

I care about what you do with your life because I love you and because God loves you, just like a Father loves His children and wants what is best for them. I don't want you to miss out on the amazing gift of grace God is offering to you. Don't let Satan keep deceiving you. He promises you peace but all he can give you is death. Every promise of God will always come true (Titus 1:2)

[http-shield]

honey, you're familiar- bucky barnes

~ bucky barnes x fem!reader ~tags/cw: lil angst, establlished relationship, seperation, post cw (not endgame canon cause fuck endgame) bestie steve, me being sad cause I kinda fell out of the avengers fandom and coming back kinda felt like coming home and this is me pretending I'm coming back to bucky, no use of y/n, honey is a replacement for y/n ~ wc: 2.k ~ not proofread

"Honey?" your name is sweetness on a tongue you once knew. 

Long ago, perhaps too long, a distant memory you thought you had left behind, yet here you are, those two syllables falling from his mouth as if no time had passed. 

You turn slowly, your head already spinning at the surprise. He is behind you. You know he is because who else croons your name like that, has that flirty lilt in his words, and you can hear the smirk without even looking at him? You know his voice, know his presence, know him. 

"Bucky?" with closed eyes, you turn, afraid that maybe this isn't happening and that you would be faced with a coworker or friend, that you had imagined the entire thing, the very real love of your life is not behind you. Maybe this is a dream?

You want to open your eyes, to have the truth revealed to you, but you can't. The fear of reality holds you in an ice-cold grip, spindly frozen fingers holding your eyes shut. The familiar scent of leather and bergamot engulfs you before you feel the warmth of his body, the heat thawing fear's vice grip on your body. 

"James, is that you?" His use of his government name makes him chuckle as he steps closer, hands reaching out to grab yours. Cold metal slips against your fingers just as naturally as his hand of flesh and bone.

A whimper leaves you. 

"Sweetheart, you need to open your eyes to see if it's me." Warm fingers brush over your cheek, pushing your hair behind your ears as he cups your cheek. 

"If I open my eyes, you promise you'll still be there?" there is no hiding the desperation in your voice. 

Bucky chuckles again, his fingers winding with yours in a silent oath.  "I promise." 

You inhale, deep and fulfilling and open your eyes. 

Before you stands the man you have not seen in five years.

The last time you had been near Bucky was at the airport, surrounded by suitcases that contained nearly every earthly possession of yours; your fingers gripped the boarding pass that you desperately did not want to use but had to. It was necessary to create space between your hearts, too afraid of being bonded by trauma and circumstance. There had been too much guilt surrounding you both regarding the other. There was too much self-sabotage in a relationship that involved nothing more than two hearts desperately beating for one another. No titles or official labels were given to your union, so it was easier to let go, to wedge that gap of a few thousand miles between your bodies, to create distance and hopefully smother whatever had been blazing. You couldn't take advantage of him, his mind too raw from being brought back a final time, thawed out into a life of permanent peace, so what gave you the right to swoop in and demand his attention, his heart? 

However, Bucky thought of you the same. Why should you give up your entire life for a war criminal? A weapon no more than the blood on his hands? It wasn't fair, and the distance, the break was the right move, so why was it so hard to say goodbye? 

Bucky hadn't let go of your hand since you left your shared apartment earlier this morning. His right hand in yours, squeezing tightly as if he could commit the lines of your palm to memory. Throughout the ride with Steve, as you walked through the large airport, customs, baggage check, and security, he was holding you, but it's not as if you wanted him to let go. You never acted upon pulling your hand from his, never wanted to be more than two feet from him. 

"Can you ask me to stay?" you whispered tearfully as your boarding call was announced over the PA. 

Bucky turned to you, jaw clenched to hold back his tears as he brought your entwined hands to his mouth. A ghost of a kiss pressed to your knuckles as he whispered back. "Can you ask me to go with you?" 

A tear-filled giggle filled the space between you but disappeared as another call for boarding was announced. 

You stood, hands still together, and turned to gather your carry-on. Silence filled your little bubble, awkward and tense, as you both calculated once again if this was right. Your heart was making so much noise that it was hard to hear rational thoughts, and the urge to rip up the ticket and fall into the arms of your love had your fingers twitching. As if Bucky could read your thoughts, he slipped the small piece of paper from your fingers and tucked it between the pages of the journal Steve had gifted you just moments before as a parting gift. 

"You're not allowed to come back until you fill every page," Steve instructed while handing over the small green book. Its cover, with gold fairies etched into it, was the deciding factor for Steve in choosing the appropriate gift for you. 

"And if I fill it up in a week?" you asked, tears already pricking at your eyes. 

"Then I guess we'll be here to get you in a week." You didn't miss the small sniff from Steve as he offered you a soft smile before wrapping his arms around your shoulders. "Thank you for everything you've done. I'm gonna miss you, kid." 

You hugged him tightly, heart aching at the thought of leaving your friend. You weren't just leaving Bucky; you were leaving your whole life. Years of memories left in a city that would no longer be your home. Steve pulled back, tears glistening in his blue eyes, but he wiped them before any could fall, squaring his shoulders like you had seen him do a million times before a mission or press conference. It was a habit you had picked up on, following in his footsteps since day one, and now it was a part of you, an instinctive quirk that you couldn’t seem to shake. Maybe you'll find new traits in your new life, find new friends, and steal mannerisms, and when you get home, you'll be an entirely new person. 

"I'm gonna go back. There was a book I wanna get another look at." Steve smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. A squeeze to your shoulder was his final goodbye.  

Metal fingers brushed against yours, twining together as he pulled you closer.

"If I miss home, will you be here to pick me up?" you asked, suddenly fearful of being forgotten by someone you never wanted to forget. 

"I'll get on a plane and come and get you," Bucky assured,  gliding soft fingers over your cheeks. 

Your skin burned, suddenly very thankful for the coolness of his vibranium arm against your blazing face. You tried so hard to keep the tears at bay, distracting yourself at every point where you felt the lump in your throat and the burn in your eyes, but there was no distraction now. There was nothing but you and him, and the weight of reality crashed down upon you. 

"Stay with me." Bucky begged in a whisper. 

Your heart lurched. 

"Come with me." 

Tears began to line his eyes, falling despite his best efforts, and a fresh wave of guilt pummelled you. 

"Buck," you started, your voice cracking, but you had to say it. It was now or never; you needed him to know to get it off your chest before everything changed. "James Buchanan Barnes," you attempted again, your voice still breaking, but you continued, knowing there was going to be no stop to the tears. 

"I love yo-"you started, heartbreaking with each syllable.

Bucky shook his head, well and truly on the way to sobbing, as he exhaled a shuddering breath. "Please don't say that. Don't say it because I won't stop thinking about you, and I need you to go out and live your life." 

You grip his shirt tighter. 

"Please, I can't just let you go if you say that. Please, darlin', " Bucky whispered, his bottom lip quivering as he hopelessly tried to stop the tears. 

His name was a soft sigh as you broke down. The sobs couldn't be stopped, your breathing ragged as you cried fat, heavy tears that had your chest aching. Bucky let go of your face to wrap his arms around you, holding you close and tight to shield you from the world around you. He whispered words of comfort into your neck, voice shaky and breathing just as uneasy as he desperately tried to console you while he broke just as hard. 

"I love you so much. Fuck, I love you." he grits out, fingers digging into your sides.

A huffed laugh escaped you. "How come you're allowed to say it, but I'm not?" 

You pulled back to grip his face, stubble rough under your palms. 

"Because I'm old." was his only retort before leaning in to kiss you. 

His mouth moved soft against yours, savouring the feel of your mouth on his, but as you sniffed, trying to stop the tears that still fell, his turned into something more. Years of unwritten memories and unlived lives were seared into your lips. Moments that either of you never thought would happen are kissed into the other: Christmas mornings, birthdays, and anniversaries. An entire future the two of you had envisioned for yourself was no longer attainable, and as far as either of you knew, this would be the last kiss that would be shared. There was no need for anything else apart from one another; if you were to die from lack of oxygen right then, your entire body breaking down under the sheer force of the love you felt for him, you would die a happy death. Never had to know anything but his touch, his kiss, his love, but that wasn't going to happen. 

Your final boarding call boomed through the speakers, breaking your perfect bubble. You pulled back, panting from both the kiss and the tears, Bucky just as breathless.

"I love you, Bucky Barnes." you whispered, thumbs collecting the tears marring his cheeks. You promised you would never forget the feeling of his face in your hands; even if you lived for a thousand years, you would remember how it felt. 

And you never did.

"Hi, sweetheart." Bucky grins as your tears begin to fall. 

You launch yourself at him, arms wrapping around his neck as you crush your body against his, clinging to the man who had been your home for so many years. Strong hands grab your waist before his arms snake around you, squeezing you tightly. The smell of leather and pine and something so distinctly Bucky curls around you, wrapping its fingers around your throat and squeezing the air from your lungs until there is only the scent of Bucky. A sob claws its way out of your chest, the cries following it primal and broken. The years apart had done nothing to dull the heartache for him, had done nothing to ease the pain in your soul at the very sight of him, and now that he is here again, in your arms, you never want him to let go. Your fingers slide into the hair at the nape of his neck, tangling in the tresses and anchoring yourself to him. The way tree roots dig into the dirt, securing their position in the earth no matter the wind or rain, that is how you are going to secure yourself to the man in your arms; you are not letting him get away again, not after everything you had just gone through. 

"I missed you so much." you sob into his chest.

Bucky's chest rumbles as he chuckles. "Fuck, you have no idea." 

You take a second to pull away, turning your face towards his and lean into the kiss. His mouth slots against yours as if no time has passed. Your lips part under his, the taste of salt and mint mix on your tongue. Bucky's hands cup your cheeks, thumbs stroking over tear-slick skin, and you feel him smile into the kiss. 

"What?" you whisper, words muffled by his mouth. 

Bucky doesn't want to stop kissing you, unable to pull his lip from yours as he replies into the kiss. "You taste the same."  

[hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog]

Happy Monday Everyone! So I have a new series for you that I will be dropping either one chapter a week or multiple chapters this week, I am still deciding.

This series came way of a message/ask from @hobby27 she asked:

"I would love something with Jensen and reader. He sees her when he’s at a convention and he’s bonkers for her. She isn’t so interested in a relationship with him because of the fame. So he has to woo her. Make her understand that he’s not a typical movie/tv star. Slow burn."

So I give you the Limelight series- It's a Jensen x reader (plus size, curvy girl) story, Jensen meets the reader in a bar, he falls fist, she is reluctant of course, but secretly she fell for him the second he walked through the door. So can a small town girl and a celebrity make it work?

Warnings for the whole series: language, multi-pov and switching between the pov mid chapters (sorry I can't help it), Jensen coming off aggressive for a hot second but then cooling off. Some douche side characters and some lovable ones, body shaming, angst, fluff, swoon, Jared is there and Micha is mention.

This story takes place an AU where Jensen is not married but Jared is and has kids.

This chapter is 2K+. Feedback, likes and reblogs are always welcomed. Please don't post as your own work, this is my work.

Thanks!

Chapter 1

You weren't sure what possessed you to come out tonight. The city is a small lakeside tourist trap in the height of summer. It's Friday night, so it's already going to be busy. Add the fact that the first-ever Supernatural convention is taking place in a town over, and there are rumors that some cast members might appear in small-town Haven. Has every woman, single or not, out looking to catch the eye of Jared Padalecki or Jensen Ackles.

You, on the other hand, couldn't care less. That's not to say you didn't think both men weren't great actors. You're the first to put your 'Supernatural number one fan card' against anyone. You watched the show religiously, even re-watched it whenever you needed comfort or a break from the world.  You had also fallen into reading and writing a few fanfics under a pen name. 

You also weren't immune to their handsome good looks; both are sexy men in their own right. You lean more towards Jensen than Jared if you had to choose. Something about those hypnotic green eyes  and the 'Dean voice.' God, that got you through some lonely nights, for sure.

So why aren't you going boy-crazy at the fact that your celebrity crush was just one city over, or for that matter, could be in the same bar as you right now? One, you are a realist: the likelihood of him coming out, or you actually seeing him, is slim, if not nonexistent. Second, the idea of celebrity life - living in the limelight, having all eyes on you, never getting a moment to yourself - no thank you. You will take being an anonymous nobody and being able to look and act however you want without ending up on the front page of the gossip rags.

Pushing your way through the crowd of the local dive bar, you survey the crowd to see the overabundance of female to men ratio. You finally squeeze past and grab the last open barstool at the corner, next to where the wait staff come to grab their orders. Saying hi to the waitress as she loads up her tray, you take a seat and wave over at the bartender. 

"Well, look what the cat dragged in." The bartender, James, gives you a smile and wink.

Stuffing the bar towel in his back pocket, he walks to you and tosses a cardboard coaster. "Didn't think you would be one of those desperate celebrity chasers." He jokes.

He places his hands on the bar and leans towards you. His lean, muscular frame is accented by his dark denim jeans and black button-down, the sleeves rolled up to the elbows, showing off the nice tan he's been working on.

Shaking your head at him, "Now, James, I wouldn't knock your guest too loud; God knows you're not mad at the extra business…or the female clientele." You quip, picking up the coaster to fiddle with. 

You survey the room and guess it's a two to five-ratio of guys to girls in the bar tonight. "Besides, I wanted a drink." Letting out a sigh, you try to convince yourself that's why.

Not buying it, but not having the heart to call you out on your bullshit this early in the night, James gives you a nod, "OK, sure, so the usual?" He asks as he grabs the tequila to make you a margarita.

"You know my weakness."

"That I do."

Later that night

You felt good and relaxed over an hour in and two margaritas down. The day's stress dissipates, and you're glad you came out. Besides chatting with James every time he had a few minutes, you also got to reconnect with some of the other bar staff you hadn't seen. 

The crowd has started to thin out, with news that the cast members were staying in the city to party. Sightings of them all over at the more trendy bars had the sober guests heading out and the not-so-sober ones heading home. James let the last waitress clock out early, leaving only you and James. James made his way back over to you.

"So, you're still here. Thought you would have hightailed it to the city by now." He jokes, running a hand through his dark, short locks. His blue eyes locked with yours.

"I told you, I just came out for a drink, not to hunt down a celebrity. Besides, we never get to hang out anymore.  Why is that?" you question, pushing your empty glass toward James in a not-so-subtle attempt to have him refill it. 

He takes the hint.  Grabbing the glass, he slightly laughs at this, "Come on, Y/N, we see each other. I mean, yeah, not as much anymore, what with me taking over this place and you working in the city more on your art. How is that going? Are you happy with your decision?" He asks, saying so much with those questions. He finishes up your drink and sets it down.

You were happy with your choice; it was for the best. Even if it meant you gave up half of the bar and steady income so you could pursue your passion. You're about to answer him when the sound of the front doors opens. Looking over, you can't believe your eyes when you see, fucking Jensen Ackles and Jared Padalecki walk through the doors. 

You snap your head back after staring at them both for what seems like forever. Fuck, they both look even better in person.

"No fucking way!" James almost screams out. You look up at him to see he is nearly hyperventilating.

"OK, James, you got to calm down." You counsel, slightly put off by him freaking out when he, on multiple occasions, would tease you for liking the show. Watching him flap his hands and pull out the bar rag to wipe the sweat from his forehead as his cheeks red. 

You had to call him on this. "Are you a fan?"

He looks over to you, sees the twinkling of mischief behind your eyes, and sighs, "OK, fine, yes." He quips back in defeat that his big secret is out.

"I watched the show, and so did you." He tries to defend himself.

"Yeah, and I was open about it. You were the one that made fun of me every time I talked about it. Bitch."

"Jerk." James quips back out of reflex, which gets you to point at him.

"Hey, can we get a pitcher of whatever the house draft is?" Deep and smooth, his voice hits you like a freight train, pulling James and you out of your impending tiff and back to reality. A reality where Jensen Ackles is standing ten feet away from you, on the other side of the bar, wanting to get a pitcher of beer. 

He is standing there in well-fitted light-wash jeans and a faded blue T-shirt. Sunglasses hang off the v-neckline and a baseball cap tuck in his back pocket. Your eyes lock with his, and the rumors are true—they are green like a fairy princess.

You look away and see Jared sitting with two other guys at a table. They are not actors from the show; they must be friends or bodyguards. 

"Umm…Yeah, man, coming right up. Just the one?" James stammers as he reaches the well to pull the pitcher. 

"Umm…better make it two, Jared's a big guy and all." Jensen jokes. Pulling his eyes from you to the bartender.

"Umm…you got a kitchen back there?" He questions, trying to keep the small talk up so he can stay here for a few more minutes. There is something about you; he can't place it, but it's like he's drawn to you. 

"Yeah, but our cook bailed on me tonight," James replies. Setting the pitchers on the bar. Scrabbling when he sees Jensen's slight disappointment in the lack of food.

"But I am sure Y/N wouldn't mind going back there and whipping up something." Turning his attention to you and giving you a shit-eating grin.

Your head snaps up to look over at James and Jensen. "What?" You question, wondering why he dragged you into this.

"Yeah, she's an excellent cook, chef really, she actually…"

"I am sure my cooking wouldn't match your sophisticated palate." Cutting off James before he can give Jensen your life story, giving him a stare down that conveys 'shut the fuck up.'

James has a habit of making your accomplishments sound grander than they were. He takes up the role of a proud parent, which you never ask him to do. 

Y/N, hmm, beautiful name. Letting the name roll around in his head. Jensen takes this opportunity with your eyes, shooting daggers at the bartender to let his eyes take you all in. She is in light-wash jeans, tall black boots, and a leather jacket over a vintage concert t-shirt that hugs her curves in all the right places. She's giving off a 'don't fuck with me vibe,' but he can tell it's just a front.  

"Darling, don't let celebrity status fool you. We're just a group of guys out for a few drinks and looking for good local food." Giving a smile to seal the deal.

His voice pulls her attention back to him, and he can see the front crumble away, her cheeks tinting pink.

"Jared there will eat just about anything you put before him." He says, thumbing back towards the guys. 

You look over his shoulder to see Jared and the two other guys watching your interaction. Jared gives you a half smile.

"Jensen, stop harassing the girl already. I can't take this guy anywhere." He jokes and turns his attention back to his buddies.  

Getting up from the barstool, you put some money on the bar, "I should be going, night James." Keep your voice low and as even as possible.

You can feel yourself becoming embarrassed by the seconds with all the attention on you. Unfortunately, you must walk past Jensen and his friends' table to get to the door. As you walk past the table, one of the anonymous guys pipes up.

"Seriously, I am starving. Why did we even come out this way? Dumb bitch, not like she doesn't know her way around a kitchen, just look at her." He spits out. 

You know you should keep walking; it's not like you haven't heard your fair share of fat jokes and comments about you before. Especially from drunk, pretty boys. Something about this time, though.  Maybe it's because it's in front of your celebrity crushes. After all, you have a few drinks in you as well. Whatever it is, you turn on your heels so you can face the douchebag.

"Oh, real original, ass. God, you must be the brains of the group." You spat back. Placing your hands on your hips to really show off your frame. 

He doesn't say anything at first. He is your typical frat boy, with short blonde hair and brown eyes staring back at you. You can see the wheels turning in his head. The other anonymous guy sitting next to him is a carbon copy of him, but he is looking across the booth to Jared for some kind of help.

"Dude, Evan, come on," Jared says, giving him a look of dismay that he just said those things. Turning his attention to you, "I am sorry…" He starts to apologize to him.

You hold up your hand to stop him. "It's fine, really." You reply, giving him a half smile. You're tired, and dragging this out any longer is not something you want to do tonight.

"Yeah, Jared, it's fine. A bitch like that, this is probably the most attention she has had from a guy in a long time." Evan jokes and playfully punches the guy next to him, wanting some backup on his 'stellar' dig at the local girl. 

Turning away from them, shocked that he is still talking, you just want to escape. Your eyes lock with Jensen, but his attention is on the table. He's fuming and looks like he is about to punch Evan. He starts the short walk towards the table.

"What the fuck…" he yells.

Stepping in his path, he stops just inches from you when you put your hand on his chest. The feel of your hand on him, you standing right before him, snaps him back.

"Well, we wouldn't want you boys to starve now, would we?" You say sweetly. Your voice is low and even. Knowing that you need to diffuse this situation before a bar brawl breaks out and somehow the gossip rags hear about it. 

The feel of his shirt under your fingers as you lightly tap his chest is soft. You would give anything to stay like this for a bit longer, taking in his smell of whiskey and leather. That's the one thing the fanfic girls and guys got right. Maybe they got other things right, too, your mind wonders.

You give Jensen a smile and turn to face the table. "Do you guys have any allergies I need to know about?" Your question, "Don't need to have anyone go into anaphylactic shock and have the media all up in my ass."

The two unknowns say nothing and seem interested in the countertop, then looking up at you. You don't blame them. Seeing the fury that Jensen was in, you wouldn't want to be on the receiving end of that.

Jared also looks pissed at them, glaring at them both before replying. "No, I think we're all good."

Giving a short nod, you turn back, seeing Jensen's eyes lock on you now. He has calmed down a bit, but he also looks slightly disappointed. You cock your head to the side.

"Hey, you OK?" You question, your voice low, only for him to hear.

He takes a second, giving you a nod. He clears his throat. "Yeah, umm…I am sorry…" he starts apologizing, but you stop him. 

"It's fine, Jensen. If you haven't noticed, I am a big girl in multiple ways." You wink at him and pat his chest before side-stepping him and heading back towards the kitchen.  

Back to the bar, you shuck off your jacket and toss it to James. "Good because, honestly, I don't care." You quip back to let them all know you could give a rat's ass what their dietary needs were.

This gets a laugh out of Jensen, pulling him back into a better head space. He can see more of her; the short-sleeved gray t-shirt contrasts sharply with her deep purple hair. Letting his eyes roam over her beautiful curves, god, he wishes he was the only one that came out tonight. She is feisty and can hold her own. Her voice is heaven, and he wants to listen to her talk all night.

"I'll have some food right out." Saying over your shoulder as you push open the kitchen doors. 

To Be Continued.....

[juleswritesstuff]

Jealousy, jealousy

Poly!Jegulus×Reader

I know it may not be everyone's cup of tea, but I was inspired and...this is the result.

Hope you like it 💗

English isn't my first language so I apologize in advance for any mistakes.

Regulus Black was a possessive prick.

Or so Barty said.

“Merlin, didn't you notice the way he was looking at that guy ? The bloke is lucky he is still alive”

“Stop looking like a rabid dog, blondie is not even looking in Potter's direction”

“I swear you can't just curse a random dude for talking to Y/N, Reggie. He was just asking her about the books for Salazar's sake !”

So yeah, Regulus was apparently a possessive guy.

Then why hadn't you nor James ever noticed or even witnessed it ?

Barty and Evan always told you and James how Regulus would get fired up as soon as he noticed someone just as breathing in your and the Griffyindor's direction.

But both you and James thought it absurd. 

Regulus Black ?

The always calm and collected headboy of Slytherin ? The guy with the stone cold stare and the stoic expression ? The same quite boy that liked to read and write poetry, looking at the stars and sleeping in on Sundays ? 

Jealous ?

You and James had a good laugh.

If you had to consider one of you as the ‘jealous one’ most of the times that would've been James. The boy couldn't go a second without yours and Regulus eyes on him, pouting his way through it to get the attention of his partners, and sometimes sending dirty looks to people who were being a bit too insistent and pushy.

But it never got beyond that. 

Other times it was you even. Having two of the most handsome boys in Hogwarts as your boyfriends was fun, until random girls tried to slip Amortentia in their cups at dinner, and a weird green concoction in yours.

Then it wasn't fun anymore.

The points deducted from your House were definitely worth seeing the two girls jinxed to puke slugs for a week.

So it was always either you or James. Never Regulus.

He was always calm, put together and, weirdly you must say, extremely affectionate. 

So Barty's words didn't really make sense to you and your Gryffindor boyfriend.

Until that night.

Gryffindor had won a match against Ravenclaw. One of the biggest and toughest matches of the last three years (or so James said), so partying was mandatory.

For a night the Gryffindor common room was opened to everyone who wanted to have fun, relax, and possibly and most importantly, get wasted.

The room was full. 

People from every house were there, the sound of muggle music filling your ears (David Bowie, was it ? Salazar, Remus sure talked a lot about that guy).

After getting a drink you spotted some of your housemates talking to Remus and Lily. Dorcas, Pandora, Barty and James were there too.

You walked up to them holding your, now full, glass of firewhisky mixed with some sort of juice. Courtesy of Sirius.

“You guys keep hogging my boyfriend here. I wasn't even able to congratulate him on his victory” You said, arms going to circle James’ neck, careful not to spill your drink, as you left a kiss in his lips.

“You did so good up there” you whispered on his lips before smacking another small kiss on them and letting go.

“Did I ? Must've been my lucky charms” he said grinning, hands still on your waist as he took in the sight of you in Gryffindor colors. A rare occurrence, happening only when the match was a big one. 

In all honesty both you and Regulus would've rather died than ever wear red and gold, but James needed to know that the two most important people in his life were there for him, so you made an exception.

Well, that, and the jumpers you always stole from him that were too big on both you and Regulus, but they smelled of James and they were a lifesaver in the nights where you couldn't sneak out to pay him a visit.

“Speaking of” James lifted his eyes to look around the room, scanning it in search of a particular mop of ebony curly hair and stormy eyes “where's Reggie ?” 

“Was talking with Evan at the drink table. Said he would be here in a minute” You answered, taking a sip of your drink.

“Good, I have to thank both my charms. Can't miss one” James said with a goofy smile, one that could only be considered lovestruck.

The same kind of smile that curled your lips, too. 

“Don't think you'll have to wait for long” added Barty with a smirk on his face, trying to hide it with the rim of his cup as he took a sip.

You and James shared a look of confusion.

Suddenly a voice spoke up.

“Hey, James. Nice match you had up there ! I think it was really thrilling-”

Cole Aleberstine, sixth year Hufflepuff, came to congratulate James as well.

You knew him seen as you had Divination together. He was a quiet and shy guy, and you were almost sure he had a crush on James.

Which was hilarious considering the whole school knew James was a taken man. A very taken man.

You never considered him a problem, he actually looked like he was terrified most of the time. His little infatuation with James was never acted upon.

You actually found it rather endearing.

But apparently not everyone thought the same.

The poor guy couldn't even finish talking when a louder than usual “Baby” was heard, and suddenly a flash of black hair and gray eyes was in front of the Gryffindor chaser, surging on his tiptoes, fisting James’ shirt in his hand and yanking the boy towards him in a hungry kiss.

James let out a yelp in surprise, and then proceeded to literally melt in Regulus' arms and at the mercy of his lips.

Oh, you knew that feeling all too well. The way Regulus kissed like he was starved, like it was the end of the world and only the taste of your lips could save him.

Yes, Regulus Black was a hell of a kisser.

And you were sure James was in heaven right now.

Being used to it, you didn't have much of a reaction (the butterflies in your stomach begged to differ), but the flabbergasted faces of your friends were pure gold.

Even Remus and Sirius, who were more than used to your and the other two boys' antics, were left speechless.

You let out a snicker.

When you turned around Cole was gone, no trace of him whatsoever.

Regulus then parted from James’ lips and turned his head, looking at the empty place that was previously occupied by the Hufflepuff.

The most imperceptible smirk peaked on his lips, like he had won the lottery or something.

Your eyebrows slightly furrowed.

What ? 

And then it clicked.

The way Regulus was definitely at the drink table before Cole showed up and then, as soon as he opened his mouth, he stormed there like a fury, kissing James like his life depended on it, like he wanted to swallow him whole, like he wanted everyone to know that the Gryffindor chaser was his.

A grin spread on your lips.

Oh, Barty was right.

Regulus Black was a jealous prick.

And he made sure that everyone knew by claiming you and James.

And only then your brain realized that all the time he was extra handsy in public, which was very uncharacteristic of him, he was trying to literally mark the territory.

A part of your brain wanted to find it a little excessive, but the other, more prominent, part found it extremely attractive.

Barty sent a knowing look in your direction.

The obvious ‘I told you so’ written on his face made you shake your head lightly in complete disbelief.

“Damn, I must've been really good then” 

Said James, who looked thoroughly snogged, lips plump and glasses crooked on his nose.

“You were alright I guess” Regulus said, trying to appear as unimpressed as possible, but the sweet smile tugging at his lips betrayed him.

James loved when Regulus was a little mean to him, all in good fun, of course, and it was entertaining for you to watch.

“I should start playing Quidditch too if this is the treatment we get from our boyfriend” you added, a playful offended tone in your voice.

“No need for that, my love” Regulus said with a proper smile this time, detaching himself from James, picking you up and twirling around once before kissing you softly but just as eager. 

Funny thing ? You could still taste James on his tongue and it made your head spin.

His lips were like silk, molding perfectly with yours as you let out a content sound.

“Yeah, better not. I'd probably end up with a broken bone every two weeks”

You said chuckling and a little breathless, as he put you down gently, hands still on your hips.

“I already have one boyfriend with enough broken bones, I definitely don't need my girlfriend doing that too” he said as he tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“But- I mean, if you want to you can of course”

He added.

“I was joking Reggie, don't worry” you said smiling, endeared by him “I definitely like it more when my feet are on the ground” 

“Pity” interrupted James “You would look so hot riding a broom with the wind in your hair” he stated, drinking from his cup.

“I'd say I ride enough things already, don't you think Jamie ?” you said with a smirk and a raised brow.

James proceeded to choke on the alcohol in his mouth, while Regulus’ cheeks tinted a splotchy red.

“Ok, enough” said Sirius, his face distorted in horror “there are certain information that we really don't need to know” 

“Speak for yourself, Black. I wanna know everything”

Barty said, wiggling his brows. 

Regulus threatened to make him bald for the rest of his life.

Laughter roared, and the night proceeded as smoothly as a party at Hogwarts could ever go. 

[overleftdown]

this is going to be my somewhat-brief analysis (buckle in, it's not brief at all) of preluding scenes to farleigh and olivers... scene, lmao. because i can't read micro-expressions and social cues IRL, but i can for movies! also, i want to give my understanding of farleigh's character using the most substantial part of his arc. i disagree so much with a lot of people's takes on farleigh. i needed to talk extensively about it.

[0:58:46] farleigh makes eye contact with a footman. this is one of the footmen that farleigh mentions to felix in a later scene, which i'll also go into. what's interesting about this subtle interaction is how wildly differently you could consider it, depending on how you choose to view farleigh as a character. if you go the "mirror of oliver," route, then this eye contact could be the moment farleigh decides the route he's going to take to confront felix.

on the other hand, the hand that i believe makes more sense, farleigh is genuine in his confrontation with felix. the eye contact he shares with the footman is reciprocated; the footman holds it, even as his body pulls back and his head turns. this gives the idea that they are making a connection. the expression farleigh makes afterwards is also an indication that farleigh isn't plotting or scheming to earn pity points; he feels a connection and comradery with the only other black people at saltburn. when the footman turns away, unneeded anymore (this can be a parallel to farleigh), farleigh glances down, back up, then purses his lips. he looks dejected, in my opinion. this is immediately followed by farleigh's dig at oliver; "i think oliver looks like he'd rather throw himself out of a window.

food for thought.

[0:59:9] elsbeth: you can invite all your friends. farleigh: what friends?

this can obviously be a petty dig. and it is, in some ways. but i think a lot of these petty digs are because farleigh has been here before. he has watched his cousin drag home mediocre and tragic (presumably) white boys for perceived self-benefit. whether felix wants entertainment, wants to quell his guilty conscious (both of which are motivations for his mother), felix seems to have these fleeting possessive relationships with the friends he brings back to saltburn. he could also be queer and deeply repressed, lmfao.

i digress; farleigh is sick and tired. the first thing he says to oliver, before oliver even got to felix, was bitchy as all hell. after that, farleigh had more incentive to belittle oliver; yes, his comments about mannerisms, class, and overall character were petty. they were also all of the qualities that farleigh couldn't afford to have. farleigh is pointing out that oliver has no social life, yet still gets a 200-person party full of people that don't even know his name. this is tragically unfair, at least in farleigh's mind.

[1:01:25] felix: and fucking farleigh, what a little shit stirrer. oliver: well, someone has to entertain us all. felix: ...right. oliver: that's why we love him.

there's a clear disregard of humanity and depth, when felix concedes that farleigh is "entertainment." the sheer fact that felix would immediately believe oliver, a "stranger (as venetia so eloquently puts)" over a close family member, is odd on it's own. there are probably more reasons for distrust; everyone in saltburn is a shit stirrer, and farleigh does put on a particularly good show.

that's intentional, though. farleigh is very intentionally entertainment. otherwise, why would the cattons keep him around? they're welcoming people to their house as family, because they want a break from the reality of soul sucking wealth. because they want entertainment. elsbeth with her friend, who's only real personality traits are being pitiful and visibly different. felix, with his summer pet projects like oliver. farleigh can't be a temporary show; he needs to keep coming back. he needs sir james to support his mother.

[1:02:40] farleigh: i'm not saying my mother isn't completely idiotic when it comes to money. felix: you just have to be firm with her. farleigh: well i can't call her and tell her no! felix: i know, i know, you've said that. i know, i understand. farleigh: no, you don't know! you don't, it's humiliating. felix: it's very hard.

felix's approach to discussing other people's issues--that he does not relate to--makes me giggle sometimes. not that he's malicious or a fumbling idiot, but because of this scene specifically. in just this chunk of dialogue, you have the "i understand" and "you don't understand" conflict. an age old one. a common representation of someone who has never lived a specific struggle yet frames themselves as knowledgeable. felix seems to enjoy the "it's very hard" verbiage. the manner in which he speaks to oliver about his supposed impoverishment and struggles is very similar to the way he speaks to farleigh, in this scene.

i don't know what else to say about this. you can make your own inferences on felix's dialogue, i suppose.

[1:02:50] farleigh: i'm sorry, but it's a bit fucking shitty. you're all throwing oliver a party for 200 people while my mother lives in squalor. felix: well, she's hardly living in squalor, mate. farleigh: well she can't pay her bills so she will be! okay? at the rate she's going, she will be.

GAH. again, this dialogue can be considered in two different ways. farleigh could be hyperbolizing in order to play into the catton savior complex. or he could be completely genuine in his anxiety surrounding his mother's finances. it's very important that you recognize the fact that farleigh isn't arguing about himself, in this situation. he's talking about his mother. later in the conversation, he recenters himself as a person of color. but the original conflict is about whether or not his mom is living comfortably. this arguably affects him, but not entirely. he could continue to maintain his oxford-student-and-saltburn-resident character and continue to frolic around while his mom struggles to make responsible decisions.

[1:03:02] felix: right, well that's exactly why dads concerned about helping her. he doesn't want to enable her. he wants her to learn how to stand on her own two feet. farleigh: yeah, like he does?

and farleigh ate.

[1:03:09] farleigh: i mean, you know how this looks, right? making me come to you with a begging bowl. felix: what are you implying? farleigh: i think you know what i'm implying, felix. why don't you ask liam and joshua? felix: who... who the fuck are liam and joshua!? farleigh: ...your footmen.

farleigh's mannerisms in this portion of the scene GAG me. the easy confidence, the self-assured and confrontational attitude. the cocky wave of his shoulders and tilt of his head. he smirks, scoffs, makes and holds eye contact as emphasis to what he is accusing. the way he says "i think you know what i'm implying" even though i'm not quite sure if felix did. this really hammers in the implicit nature of the cattons' treatment of farleigh.

[1:03:33] felix: oh, oh. that is... that is low, farleigh. farleigh: okay. felix: jesus christ, mate! seriously, is that where you wanna take this!? farleigh: right. felix: make it a race thing!? what the fuck! i mean, we're your family, we hardly even notice that you're... different, or anything like that! farleigh: mmm. felix: i never know our footmen's names!

GAGGED. i eat up this scene and lick my fingers. "wohohoho, i don't see color! i can't believe you'd make it a race thing!" i know i should cut felix some slack, but this is just a little too real. although i've cut farleigh some slack for his classism.

the complete change in farleigh's mannerisms from the previous timestamp to this one is EDIBLE. i can't cope with it. his smile as felix says "that is low" is so painfully real. it says "i've been here before and maybe i was expecting this." for a second, felix is almost entertainingly cliche. then the exasperation hits. farleigh just looks tired. he blinks rapidly, smooths over his eyebrow with his hand, vocalizes his disbelief in felix's denial. "we hardly even notice you're different," to which farleigh crosses his arms (defensive), raises his eyebrows, nods along.

i won't include the final few lines of this conversation cuz i'm blabbing FAR too much, but farleigh's expressions of absolutely exhaustion and disappointment as felix says they've "been more generous then most"... i'm so sick. it doesn't matter what other families would do, because this family passes out charity like it's their favorite pastime. farleigh is your best american girl.

oliver, overhearing this conversation, immediately knows what his next plan of action is. compare himself to farleigh. and really, it's funny, because oliver misses the obvious differences between him and farleigh. just like everyone else. he will never feel different, not in the same way farleigh does. not with farleigh's relationship to the cattons, the legacy of his parents, and his blackness.

[1:06:32] (godfather's karaoke scene, AKA apple bottom jeans. he's a disgusting manchild and he throws his jacket at his wife.) is it odd to point out that another one of the only visible black characters is being degraded/mistreated/disregarded? not crazy, right? especially following the conversation about bias two scenes ago.

[1:07:02] farleigh: y'know, i think i'd fuck richard the III. he's so insecure, so you'd know he'd put in the work, right? oliver: or you could just fuck me, right?

here, i think there's a level of projection that farleigh is using in his line about insecurity. not only is it made known that farleigh uses sex as a tool (with teachers, specifically), but it's also made known that farleigh believes/knows that he is treated differently due to his race and/or family history. oliver seems to have clocked this, considering he relates himself to richard the III, then tells farleigh they have similar experiences.

[1:07:34] oliver: y'know, if you ever wanna talk to anyone, you can talk to me, farleigh. farleigh: ...what do you mean? oliver: well, i know you're going through a hard time at home. i know how that feels, when things are so precarious. it's terrifying... and lonely. and it must be so fucking weird, having to ask them for everything. and i know you fucking hate me. farleigh: i... i don't hate you. oliver: but... if you ever wanted me to talk to them, to see if there's... if i can help in any way... just ask. farleigh: ...okay.

i love this movie. have i said that yet? i bet you definitely couldn't tell by this post. this conversation is so... there's so much to talk about.

i'll start with some of my favorite of farleigh's mannerisms/expressions. when oliver first cuts their... tensions with "you can talk to me," farleigh pulls back slightly, sits up slightly, looks across oliver's face. there's a level of shock to it, but. farleigh was comfortable with oliver, his sworn enemy, flirting with him. yet, he pulled back at a genuine offer of support. some see this as farleigh always wanting oliver sexually, but i think it's more nuanced than that. when oliver says "terrifying... and lonely" that's when the camera cuts back to farleigh. he previously wore a half-smile that is now dropping; "lonely" was the hardest word to swallow. his lip is quivering. he looks up in an almost-eye roll when he says, "i don't hate you." he's laughing when oliver finishes, like he finds it all funny, yet the way he says "okay" makes him seem genuine. however... clearly not, considering the next portion of this scene!

even though oliver is lying out of his ass, everything he's saying is a description of farleigh. people grossly misunderstand farleigh's character, even when it's laid onto a banquette sized table through this portion of the movie. he's insecure, desperate, terrified, unsure, and lonely. farleigh, with so many friends and so many scandalous choices, is so fucking lonely. he knows he doesn't belong here, so he jams his ill-fitting puzzle piece into the saltburn jigsaw and crosses his fingers.

he tells oliver he doesn't hate him, and he looks like he's struggling to spit it out. he looks up towards the ceiling, closes his eyes like he's gathering himself. again, people take this as a bonding moment. the next portion of the scene contradicts this. honestly, i'm not completely sure, either. i think he's honest when he says he doesn't hate oliver. so, what? he's jealous, definitely. he wants to hold the same power as oliver, a foreign entity with somehow so much more privilege than farleigh. maybe that bred a certain kind of infatuation; the need to emulate what you'll never be. of course, he sees himself in the boys felix brings home; they, just like farleigh, need or want something from the cattons (although i object to the idea that farleigh is somehow "a mirror" of oliver). do what you will with this word vomit, i don't know where i'm going here.

and OH MY GOD "if you ever wanted me to talk to them, to see if there's... if i can help in any way," is diabolical. so terribly diabolical. the sheer idea that oliver knows, is pummeling it into farleigh's face, that he has authority over farleigh's life like that? that he knew felix for six months and he can somehow "talk to" farleigh's family about treating farleigh better... vomit inducing. farleigh is actually your best american girl.

[1:09:39] (karaoke scene) elsbeth, so uncomfortable with the idea that oliver is using them. i suppose that's the manner of wealthy people; they don't want to believe that they're only good for their money. but... they did that to themselves, in a way. they enjoy the pet projects, the charity work, the ego boost that comes with inviting the "lesser" to saltburn. hanjob on a haybale, golden big boy summer, right? everyone in the room is scandalized. farleigh is having the time of his fucking life. yet, here's the kicker,

[1:10:10] oliver: this is your song too, farleigh. come finish it. farleigh: only if you insist!

and then farleigh gives the performance of his life, by the way. people died. but... nobody is uncomfortable. literally no one. no one shudders or gasps at the scandal of oliver saying "this is your song, too" over the karaoke microphone; everyone heard. nobody cares. they all know. they start clapping farleigh on, cheering. elsbeth relaxes back onto her bed of cushions, because farleigh is entertaining. the change in mood is soooo... interesting.

[1:10:45] curse this scene, i don't even want to talk about it. it was hot, oliver and farleigh are so homoerotic, whatever yadayada. just like every other sexual scene in this movie, it is riddled with a suffocating kind of uncomfortable tension. we are made intimate third-party witnesses to carnal, sinful, emotionally ambiguous scenes. when i pointed out farleigh seemed more comfortable with flirting then comfort, when i said farleigh uses sex as a tool, when i said farleigh was projecting with "he's so insecure, so you know he'd put in the work." i just overthink. but any person that has sexual relationships with teachers needs intensive therapy and that cannot be denied. however, it's oliver, that uses sex as a tool throughout this movie. another uncomfortable parallel between the two characters.

something about farleigh's expression throughout this scene is... kind of hurtful. the way the moonlight just barely illuminates the light in his eyes, whereas any detail of oliver's face is shrouded in darkness. it make's farleigh look young, innocent, real. (sidenote, as i'm watching, i have to mention this. the way farleigh says that second "no" is so funny. "...no...?" LMFAO). man, i don't even know what to say, past this. the whole dominant dynamic, farleigh saying "i'm going to behave" is a little too painful considering the context leading up to this scene. it's freaky. it's so very oliver.

this is way too long but i could make so many more connections with their final confrontation at oliver's birthday party. i'm drowning in thoughts. what i really wanted to highlight was how ambiguous farleigh's character is, and how differently a lot of his scenes can be perceived. i've decided that farleigh is a sympathetic character, similar to oliver but so much less powerful. some people hate farleigh! so. there's that. the end! thanks to anyone who read this whole thing!

[mysticmilks]

Dark rise 3 theories

Just finished the first and second book in one go, and want to write down my raw theories, until I forgot them.

Sun King is BAD (shock to no one). A pretty obvious one tbh — we never saw his face, Sarcean said he'd done some 'dark deeds' for him, but no one remembers him, saying he just 'disappeared'. I call it Suspicious. Maybe he even was the one who ordered the creation of the cup to enslave other Kings

Sun King is either related to Sarcean or to James (kinda don't feel like using his nickname). Either older brother or father. My bet goes on the older brother of Sarcean (but my secret wish is that he's the Father of James (to make ALL of his father figures assholes)). But probably we haven't seen his face exactly because he looks very similar to Will/Sarcean. 

Sinclair either knows that about Sun King, or, more likely, he is Sun King Reborn (or Sun King possessing someone's body). That would also make him manipulating James especially horrible.

If Sinclair is Sun King, that might explain WHY there were false beliefs that the Collar would make James obey to whoever put it on him. If James and Sarcean knew that Sun King/Lady also can return it would be a nice trick to make them seek to put the Collar on James instead of killing James and/or destroying the Collar 

Lady is probably also not as Good as everyone thinks, she is a Grey Character, way too obsessed with the idea of defeating Sarcean, or she is fully Bad, maybe even manipulating her husband Sun King 

White death is connected to Lady (also a pretty obvious one), cause she is the one who killed Kathleen and sent Sandy back. (Why she can't travel in time herself is an interesting question)

Collar, collar, collar. It's currently revealed that the Collar does at least two things — shares Will's powers with James (Will felt the cold exactly the moment James puts the Collar on, and James can do powerful magic even after opening the Gates), and gives James his past life's memories back. So... it would be a bit strange to give such protective powers to the object that was meant to enslave James. So probably it doesn't control James in the way that he (and us) thought.

Maybe the Collar was meant to protect James from mind-control, and enslavement of the Sun King/Lady. (But my bet goes on Lady, because of the scene when Sarcean was arrested — he said "You called" as if she somehow enchanted him). Maybe if he is 'bonded' by Collar to Sarcean/Will no one else can control him -> hence inability to take it off.

Maybe that's why James felt such a compulsion to put it on, when he is near Will, cause deep down he felt that the Collar would protect him, instead of enslave him

Maybe the whole 'Dark King forced him to lay near his throne' was part of the lie, to convince everyone else that that's what's going on, so in the next life someone is tempted to put it on James, so James can get both his memories and power boost.

Then we have 'I will always find you, try to run'... It's definitely not just a phase, maybe it indicates the message that James sends in that scene, something like "If you run, I'll find you and join you", or, more likely, that later he did find Sarcean, and maybe Sarcean explained something to him, which made James switch sides

Almost forgot. I have a theory that Sarcean / James were childhood friends, and Sarcean was pining for him since forever. Maybe Sun King knew that and did something to make their relationship impossible, maybe 'promoted' James to position where he's not allowed to have 'boyfriends'

[whinlatter]

The Ginny and Peter parallel though?? How have I never thought about that?? It‘s so horrifying and insanely compelling to me at the same time. I would love to hear (read?) you elaborate on that.

"Sirius, Sirius, what could I have done? The Dark Lord… you have no idea… he has weapons you can't imagine…. I was scared, Sirius, I was never brave like you and Remus and James. I never meant it to happen…. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named forced me - " "Harry – oh, Harry – I tried to tell you at b-breakfast, but I c-couldn’t say it in front of Percy. It was me, Harry – but I – I s-swear I d-didn’t mean to  - R-Riddle made me, he took me over..."

thank you so much for this question anon.  i have been thinking about this for a long time - about how ginny weasley might have made a really, really good traitor - and would love to talk more about my thinking behind it. a little meta on traitor talk - who flips, and why, and why ginny weasley might be the peter pettigrew to the trio's marauders after all - can be found below the cut (with spoilers for beasts chapter 14). 

hp, as a series, puts great moral emphasis on the concept of choice. after all, it’s about a world at war, where the question of whose side you're on is often a matter of life or death. double agents, deception, treachery, people serving the interests of others (either consensually or under duress): these are recurrent tropes, on both sides of the wizarding war. the plot begins the ultimate act of betrayal - that of lily and james potter by peter pettigrew - and the series concludes with the revelation of another (snape). throughout the books, there are all sorts of characters who spy, or flip, for all sorts of reasons. you have those who knowingly pretend to be serving the interests of one side when actually serving another, for principled reasons, either ideological motivation or out of selfless loyalty to another person: snape, peter, likely rookwood, quirrell, fake moody/barty crouch jr, both sirius and regulus black, kreacher, and narcissa in the forest. and then you have the group who betray either out of fear, or who are manipulated into acts of betrayal and deceit, sometimes through possession but otherwise through blackmail and intimidation, to varying degrees: xenophilius lovegood, mundungus fletcher, pius thicknesse, marietta edgecombe, bertha jorkins, bathilda bagshot, those types. (in a sign of jkr’s consistently dicked-up biases re gender in the series, women are never allowed to be interesting enough to actively betray anyone unless they’re doing it out of maternal love eg. narcissa - they can only ever actively be led astray or hoodwinked, whereas male characters can have a vast array of complex motivations and all sorts of shades of moral grey. we'll come back to that in a minute).

in chapter 14 of my postwar fic beasts, during the course of the hogwarts inquiry, augustus rookwood takes the stand and testifies of an attempt by him and his fellow death eaters to find someone who could play double agent to pass secrets about the resistance, the order and harry to the other side during the second wizarding war. rookwood - himself a former double agent - talks about how to make a traitor. he discusses the different motivations of traitors, how to find a target and how to exploit their existing vulnerabilities and weak-points to get them to come around to your side. he also reveals that, during the death eater seizure of the ministry and hogwarts school, he and his peers identified a would-be target in ginny weasley. in the fic, i have him describe the process of traitor-identification as ‘the pettigrew playbook’: finding someone who is connected, who knows the order’s secrets, who has the information you want, and who will flip less out of an ardent ideological commitment, but more because they are weak and scared but also disrespected and resentful and more inclined to save their own neck than act out of loyalty

i’ve always been very struck by peter pettigrew’s attempts to justify his betrayal of lily and james in PoA (see above). peter pettigrew is always a slippery and elusive character, rendered mostly through other people’s memories or descriptions of him. this is one of the very few times he explains something of his own worldview - though, as we know he is a liar, and in this instance errrr trying to save his own life as sirius threatens to kill him (slay), we have to take even these lines with a pinch of salt. we know pettigrew is a character that acts, at all times, out of a desire for self-preservation, trying to secure his own survival. he was tolerated but never respected by his schoolfriends, made the potters’ secret keeper as a ‘perfect bluff’ because he was a  ‘weak, talentless thing’ voldemort would never bother going after, a trait which ultimately made him the perfect and most vulnerable target. when outed as the real spy by sirius and remus here, he acknowledges he is aware of his deficiencies and weaknesses, and talks about his fear for his own life, his sense of how he did not live up to the principled bravery of his friends, and claims  that voldemort ‘forced him’ to surrender lily and james - presumably through the threat of terrible violence, suffering and death. 

pettigrew’s remarks are particularly interesting when put alongside the justifications and excuses of another character who has betrayed harry to voldemort, albeit under very different circumstances. like peter, ginny’s confession is given through floods of tears as a desperate plea to be believed and excused. in it, ginny begs harry to understand her own lack of culpability. just as wormtail does, she insists to harry she was forced by riddle to cause harm to others and to hand information about harry over to riddle, and to play an integral role in returning lord voldemort to life.  of course, the series always frames ginny’s actions in CoS as the behaviour of an entirely innocent person. but even these lines show a streak of self-preservation and a certain amount of weakness and cowardice that runs throughout ginny’s encounter with the diary. ‘I couldn’t say it in front of Percy’, she says, suggesting she feared getting in deep trouble with no proof of riddle’s hand in her actions. in fact throughout the diary episode, ginny shows real moments of acting to save herself rather than do the right thing and come forward with the truth. she tries to dispose of the diary, but doesn’t go to a teacher about what it has been making her do. she stole the diary back not to protect harry but to protect her own secrets and prevent him from discovering her complicity (at least by TMR’s telling). she even watches hagrid get falsely accused and sent to azkaban, and stays silent in the process, a distinctly pettigrew echo if ever i heard one. 

of course, we know ginny and peter pettigrew’s relationships with voldemort are not alike in dignity. it’s clear that, in so many ways, ginny’s encounter with the diary is much more clearly an experience of victimhood than of malicious intent. we know that ginny was possessed; we know she is not a character who would commit murder without that level of involuntary mental surrender. but there are more uncomfortable echoes of pettigrew in her experiences in CoS. we see them in the decisions of a character acting of fear and a desire to save their own skin in ginny’s experience of the diary than we might like to think. ginny ofc was targeted by lucius malfoy because of who her family was, as stalwarts of the anti-voldemort pro-muggle resistance during the first wizarding war, with powerful enemies determined to discredit and undermine them at every turn. but, as TMR makes clear, what makes ginny such a good target in the end, so vulnerable and so useful, was that she was weak. she was insecure, and lonely, teased and misunderstood and feeling inadequate. in all of that, there was a very rich opening for TMR to access her innermost fears and secrets and to use them to manipulate, pressure and threaten her into compliance, in addition to the active possession of her body to conduct deliberate acts of attempted murder. it’s not a perfect pettigrew parallel by any means. but there’s more than a little bit of pettigrew in that, too. 

maybe more parallels with ginny and peter pettigrew than meets the eye - particularly in ginny’s relationship to the trio. there are a few posts that periodically do the rounds on tumblr and reddit that talk about neville’s relationship to the trio as the parallel to peter pettigrew’s with the marauders - as this post compellingly puts it, ‘all who peter could have been’. neville, these posts usually point out, was a character who was weak and much less talented than his friends, an outsider who needed the protection and patience of cooler classmates, who was always on the outside looking in on a friend group that largely excluded him. what distinguished neville from peter was his approach to his own weakness, and how that approach drove him to heroism rather than betrayal and villainy. it’s an interesting idea, and there’s something to it. but the more i thought about it, the more i thought - is neville + the trio the only parallel with peter + the marauders? what about ginny? 

it’s remarkably under-appreciated in fandom that ginny is remarkably poorly treated by the trio for much of the series. ‘go away, ginny’ - that’s how ron banishes his sister at the start of PoA, because harry mutters to his two mates that he wants to talk to them in private and to ditch ginny. neither harry nor hermione object to it - hermione, though kind to ginny when the dementors arrive, makes no defence of her right to stay. ginny duly leaves, hurt, to go sit by herself on the train back to school, returning to hogwarts for the first time after her deeply traumatic experience in the chamber, dismissed and dispatched. not meaning to drag ron here - this is, ofc, how big brothers have behaved for time immemorial, as is their wont. but it’s kind of the statement for how the trio treat ginny for much of her school career really until HBP, harry and hermione included. ofc there are many textual/plot reasons ginny needs to be held at arms length from the trio. but it is striking that the effect of this plot habit for the reader is a usually unkind and sometimes even callous exclusion of ginny by the trio throughout many of the books.

in CoS itself, ginny is never invited to join the trio or spend any time with them: when she isn’t, you know, trying her hand at possessed attempted murder, she’s doing a light bit of potter hero worship that does recall a certain lakeside snitch-catching display of yore. it’s ginny who’s left feeling left out when the trio are swapping suspicious eyes and sirius secrets in GoF, ginny who is hermione’s back-up friend when the ron and harry showdown kicks off over the triwizard tournament, ginny who shoulders the role as harry’s consolation prize friend when ron and hermione go off to the prefects on the train in ootp (and takes him to neville and luna), ginny who goes defenceless when the trio are demanding to be included in order secrets and is physically removed from the room with no protest from the others, ginny who has to fight her case to be taken seriously and included in the department of mysteries plot to rescue a man she too is friends with (‘I care about Sirius as much as you do!’), being patronised by three friends who pick her up and put her down when they feel like it (always enjoy hermione being like ‘we need three thestrals!’ and ginny being like ffs we need four why won’t you show me an ounce of respect). in fact, when ginny is revealed to be becoming popular in a different social circle throughout ootp and hbp, it is something of a shock to harry and ron, who have spent a good six years making no effort to include her and now are finding she has built a much more successful social life beyond them (you reap what you sow, lads). i don’t say this to overstate the trio’s malice nor to overstate the pettigrew comparisons (ginny is clearly both conventionally attractive and much more socially adept).. but i do think it’s striking that  if there is a character with pettigrew echoes in the trio’s surround, always orbiting the trio, trying to feel included (and hero worshipping the potter at the heart of it), it’s more often young ginny than it is neville. so many of the things that made ginny vulnerable to TMR - her loneliness, her isolation, her insecurities and sense of inadequacy - are not helped by the trio in the years afterwards, and in some cases, actively reinforced.

(to briefly say something on gender - sometimes wonder if ginny were a male character if people would have made more of this. percy stans, for instance, go to great lengths to point out all the ways percy was bullied or teased by his family as an excuse for his errrrr war crimes. would people care more about many ginny's exclusions if she were a maligned misunderstood young man? probably? it's noticeable too that all traitors in hp are men lol, a classic example of jkr’s weird and fucked feminism striking again. women are led astray or hoodwinked - men get the complex motivations and agency arcs. but i digress).

why does any of this matter? we know ginny doesn't take the path of pettigrew, however much she might have good reason to. harry's endearingly naive line in DH ('I trust all of you, I don’t think anyone in this room would ever sell me to Voldemort’) ends up being borne out: there are no betrayals during the second wizarding war, and certainly not by ginny (though the sword heist almost ended up doing it on accident). but i found myself thinking a lot about this as i was sketching out the plotline for beasts and thinking about ginny’s war, and what is asked of ginny in it. i was particularly thinking about it relation to how the second wizarding war plays out, the unique position of danger ginny would have been in as a hogwarts student in the 1997-1998 academic year, and what a good target she would make for death eaters on the hunt for a spy within the order of the phoenix.

when i was reading DH for the first time, i remember thinking that it is absolutely bonkers that ginny weasley goes back to hogwarts in september ’97. by that summer, the weasleys are the order of the phoenix. no longer just the blood traitors’ blood traitor, they’re now the face of the wizarding resistance, both parents and (nearly) all sons in active combat, something the ministry certainly knows about even when trying to normalise death eater rule and allowing the facade of arthur et al going to go to work in the ministry/gringotts etc. ginny’s family home is order hq: she lives there all summer, and trots off to the hogwarts express straight from the kitchen table where order meetings take place. when death eaters descend on the wedding, she’s there alongside the rest of the rest of dumbledore stans. she is also famously in the DA, and fought death eaters alongside the trio in the department of mysteries, and again in the battle of the astronomy tower. and then there’s the obvious point that hinny shippers everywhere have pointed out is baffling since the dawn of time, which is that the world and his wife knows that ginny weasley is harry potter’s ex, something that might put a big fat target on her head for a death eater or two to have a pop at trying to get some secrets and intel out of her. 

of course, there’s a compelling case for why ginny has to go back. ron’s already used the splattergroit excuse, and arthur’s going to work, and so is bill, and the twins (at least for a bit), and the weasleys are going for normalisation and at least a fig leaf of compliance. so off ginny goes, into the belly of the beast, back to school, despite all the access she has to order secrets and intel, as well as information on harry and the trio. she is in a uniquely dangerous position of risk: it’s a fortress run by death eaters and her card is marked. she finds herself in an unenviable and unrivalled position as a very good person to go after if you’re a death eater fancying some intel about what the guerilla resistance - and harry potter - are up to. we know there are death eaters about who would like to claw themselves back into some level of relevance by working towards the big man and trying to curry favour (yaxley). we know there is a family intimately aware of ginny weasley's weakness and failings who are desperate to get back in voldemort's good books (the malfoys). we also know there are witnesses to ginny's exclusions both from the order and from the trio over the years - in particular, one witness that already sold secrets on the order to death eaters, namely kreacher.

the reason i came back to thinking about parallels between ginny and peter in beasts is because beasts is a story about ginny’s war, but also in part about morality in the wizarding world, about war and sides and choices. at various points in beasts, i’ve tried to play with ginny’s echoes with characters that waver morally - including regulus - or who find themselves drawn to or in some way embroiled in darkness, and who are at times governed by fear and cowardice and self-preservation in a moral universe that prizes bravery, loyalty, and self-sacrifice. so this plot came from putting all these pieces together - ginny's existing vulnerabilities and insecurities, her position of privilege and access, but also her alienation and mistreatment, and this interest in moral motivations and what experiences or traumas might lead a person, or even justify, a person's treachery, moral inaction, or active moral failing. it was even more interesting for me to play with the idea that other people might have noticed ginny weasley's weird position relative to the trio and the order too, people who want to know what she knows and who would be willing to exploit the cracks in those relationships for strategic wartime gain. and that's for chapters fifteen and sixteen!

[familyvideostevie]

🐚 SEASHELL: “Can we pretend that we’re good? Just for the night til the morning, I’d take it back if I could, but I’ll never find another you.” With James Potter please and thanks.

omg! you sure can! i was feeling a bit angst in this one, maybe james sticking his foot in his mouth and not realizing it. so here's him doing just that! (it ends nice though, obviously)

--

It's like the entire pub goes quiet when you hear it. James is maybe three paces in front of you, speaking to some girls you think you know. You can't see his face but you bet he's smiling, being kind and handsome and flirty like he always is. You plan to slide under his arm and exhibit a tiny bit of possessiveness as you give him his drink but then you hear one of the girls ask about you.

"Are you two, like, together?"

James shrugs. "Why, are you about to ask me to dinner, Vance?"

In that instant, one of the girls spots you behind James and her eyes go wide. You turn before she can say anything and retreat through the crowd and out the front door, two drinks in hand. The smokers who are chatting seem to see that you're in crisis mode and surrender a bit of the standing room to you.

Frankly, you're embarrassed to be so upset. You and James are not officially together. Some dates, kisses, nights spent together don't amount to exclusivity if you haven't spoken about it. But you know that the boys refer to you as his better half and he calls you on days he doesn't see you and you thought maybe it was going in that direction.

But while James is kind and sweet and lovely, he is also a bit vain and has quite the ego sometimes and he likes to flirt. You know all of this but your chest is aching, even so.

Someone calls your name and then James is in front of you. His face is a mix of emotions you've not seen before on him -- flustered and concerned. "I'm sorry," he says, though you're not sure he knows what he's apologizing for.

"I got you a drink," you say, a bit morosely. A breeze sweeps down the street and you shiver. James whips off his jacket and drapes it around your shoulders.

He deems the drinks irrelevant, taking them from you and putting them on the ledge of the pub. "I'm sorry," he says again. "The girls in there told me I needed to fix what I did, so here I am."

He rubs his hands up and down your arms, brow furrowed. He really does seem stressed. "I don't know what you're apologizing for," you say quietly. "No need."

"There is," he says, frowning. "I was being daft. I should have said we're together, because we are. No need to joke about it."

"Are we?" you say, hating how small you sound. James huffs.

"I guess we haven't put a label on it, have we?" You shake your head. "Well, no time like the present. We've been together for weeks in my head, honestly," he confesses. "I mean, I've been having dreams about you for months. Remus says I say your name in my sleep when I'm napping on his couch."

"James," you admonish, face heating. "I feel silly," you tell him.

"What, you don't want to be together? Now is the time to tell me, darling." You look at him and he looks less worried now, though his eyes flash behind his lenses.

"No, I do," you say, and he grins. "I just feel silly for being upset."

James tugs you in for a hug. You smush your face into his shoulder and feel his chest vibrate as he laughs. "It's kind of hot," he says in your ear. "Being possessive. Feel free to do it anytime."

You smack his chest with your palm. "You're impossible."

"But I'm your impossible!"

"That doesn't even make sense, James." He puts your hand on his elbow before he grabs your drinks and heads for the door to go back inside, flashing you a grin and a wink.

"Now I get to tell the whole pub we're together," he says. "And you get to take credit for all the dumb shit I say."

join the celebration!

[seriouslysam8]

Hey Sam, I saw you write about that one-shot of Harry jumping through the veil after Sirius and I wondered if you already published that one somewhere or if you are still writing it? If it’s the latter would you mind sharing snippet?😇 I am really curious now

It is not published. I started it around... fuck, maybe a year ago? So, you can tell, I never finished it. I had only a vague idea of where I was going with it. Then, I had other stories to write and just kind of... never finished it? I don't know if I ever will finish it. It's just been sitting in my WIP folder forever. You guys don't even know about half the stories in that folder just sitting there, collecting dust. I need to get plot bunnies out of my head or else I can't focus on what I'm working on.

Anyway, it's called Looking Glass.

“You’re Harry Potter?” Sirius asked. 

Harry nodded. “Yes, my parents are Lily and James Potter. They named you my godfather.”

That seemed completely mental. 

“Why would they name me godfather?” Sirius pressed. 

Harry swallowed visibly. “Because you and my dad were best friends.”

Sirius wanted to laugh. Him and James Potter were best friends? They fucking hated each other. 

“I’m not even friends with James Potter, let alone his best friend,” Sirius said in a soft voice. 

The kid jumped back, jerking his limbs away from Sirius as though he had burned him. “Is that what’s different here? Who… whose my godfather then? Wait, am I even alive here?”

Sirius shrugged. “I don’t know but I know the Potters had a baby boy named Harry. Their supposed friend kidnapped the kid and brought him to the Dark Lord fourteen years ago. He murdered the kid, so I’m not sure how you’re here if you really are Harry Potter.”

Harry’s chest heaved. “What?”

Sirius squinted at the kid. “Unless he didn’t murder the kid and you’re the kid… but why would he connect you with me?”

“Sirius, I don’t think I’m meant to be here,” Harry whispered. “I just… I wanted to save you. Do you, do you think my Sirius is here?”

My Sirius. 

Sirius stared at the kid like he had never seen anything like him before. The story seemed outrageous. Alternate universes. Him being friends with James Potter and godfather to his kid. It seemed like an impossible life to lead. Except the kid was staring up at him like he expected him to fix things, like he relied upon Sirius. 

“I haven’t the foggiest idea,” Sirius whispered, trying to wrap his brain around what was happening. 

Harry took a step closer to him, his big green eyes staring up at him. “Will you help me? Will you help me find my Sirius?”

Sirius’ lips parted.

“You’re the only one I trust,” Harry whispered. “No matter what universe I’m in.”

Sirius cleared his throat. “That’s probably not the smartest idea, kid.”

Harry blinked up at him. “Why?”

Sirius don’t know what possessed him to do it. He raised his left arm, pulling up the sleeve of his dress robes. The Dark Mark shined brightly on his forearm, nearly glittering despite the poor lighting in the room. Harry stepped back, his eyes widening at the sight of the Mark. 

“Tell me, does your Sirius have the Mark as well?” Sirius asked in a cool tone. 

Harry shook his head. “No, he… he hated Voldemort,” he croaked, his eyes snapping up to Sirius’ face. “Why?”

Sirius pulled his sleeve down, not taking his eyes off the kid. “Because it was what was expected of me. Tell me, are the Blacks not aligned with Voldemort in your world?”

Sirius dove head first into the alternate universe explanation. The kid seemed to uniquely trust Sirius in a way he shouldn’t. 

Harry only stared at Sirius. “They are… but you weren’t. You ran away from home when you were sixteen. You couldn’t take it anymore.”

Sirius snorted. “Where the bloody hell would I have gone?”

“The Potters,” Harry whispered. “You said you were always welcome at the Potters.”

Again with the fucking Potters. 

“What I don’t understand is why I’m even close to the Potters,” Sirius snapped. “You said James Potter is my best mate?”

Harry nodded. “Yeah, since you were eleven. You shared a dorm together, along with Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew.”

The wheels spun in Sirius’ head. “Wait, I was in Gryffindor?”

Harry frowned. “You mean you weren’t here? Were you…?”

“Slytherin,” Sirius said in a dull voice. 

“So, you never became friends with my dad or ran away or, or were named my godfather…” Harry whispered, his voice cracking. “And you joined the Death Eaters? Do you, err, do you believe in all that stuff too?”

Sirius stilled at the question. Truth be told, he never fucking cared about blood status or any of that tosh. But he had been forced to pretend to care. He had hurt people, killed people, all in the name of blood purity because he had no choice. 

“No particularly,” Sirius admitted, shoving his hands into his robe pockets. 

“Then, why’d you join?” Harry asked, his brows furrowing. 

“I didn’t know I had a fucking choice,” Sirius seethed. 

Harry swallowed. “My Sirius is part of the Order of the Phoenix.”

Sirius’ face pulled. “For real?”

Harry nodded. “Yeah, you were since you left Hogwarts.”

Sirius didn’t know what to say or to think. But for some reason, he trusted the kid was telling the truth. There was some odd pull he felt towards him, almost like he cared for the kid even though he had never met the kid before. 

“And you think your Sirius is somewhere in this universe?” Sirius clarified. 

Harry shrugged. “I don’t know. I just assumed because I showed up here that he would have as well.”

The door opened behind Sirius. Harry looked beyond him, his face instantly paling. Feet stomped and Sirius turned around slowly to come face to face with James Potter. 

Potter grabbed him by the front of his robes and slammed him against the nearest wall. All the air left his lungs at the rough impact. Harry screamed ‘stop’. Robards only shut the door behind him.

“What the fuck are you playing at, Black?” Potter seethed. 

Sirius only saw red. Best friends, his fucking arse. Maybe he should doubt the kid a little more. 

“I’m as confused as you are,” Sirius replied through clenched teeth. “Get your hands off me.”

Potter didn’t. He shoved Sirius tighter against the wall.