#buck needs to learn to take a second
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buck is like a reactive shelter dog who bites when he feels cornered and tommy is like a stray cat who runs and hides the moment he senses danger
and it is delicious and it hurts so bad and i really really need them to recognize these things about each other so they can actually grow
#buck needs to learn to take a second#and listen to what tommy is saying#before assuming things and lashing out#and tommy needs to stop shutting down#and walking away when buck says something hurtful#when its obviously a reflection of bucks own issues!#and not anything to do with tommy really#if he would just stay for a minute longer#buck would take his foot out of his mouth get to his point#guys please. guys please#911 spoilers#bucktommy#tommy kinard#evan buckley
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imma take a whole second to talk about the scene of buck calling out to his team bc. fuck. the raw but contained desperation. the clear sign of years passed and lessons learned and the forced calmness he knows he needs. the way he knows he’s talking to his sister but says “dispatch” anyway before breaking protocol. to think. and then act. he’s aware their lives depend on it. buck’s grown into a whole man, a whole teammate, and a whole firefighter, and i am in awe.
#god I love him so much#911#911 abc#911 fox#911 tv show#evan buckley#911 spoilers#evan buck buckley#911 on abc#911 season 8#911 s8#911 season eight
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flowers in hand
pairing: bucky barnes x reader
summary: unfortunately for bucky barnes, he is head over heels in love with you, and when you want something, it doesn't take much convincing.
word count: 3.6K cw: 🔞 some suggestive content (mdni)
a/n: based off of this request! lots and lots of fluff.
Bucky Barnes was an ex-brain washed assassin who had been broken down and beaten time and time again. He had seen horrors that would leave most people catatonic, he had done things that most people wouldn’t even dream of. This was not a man that wore his heart on his sleeve.
Stoic. Brooding. An absolute brute, to put it mildly.
But there was something that Bucky never wanted anyone to know. A secret he’d take to his grave and would deny if ever asked about it.
What was this secret? Simple.
Bucky was head over heels in love with you.
He knew it the second the two of you met. When you stretched out your hand and told him your name, he felt his knees buckle. When you asked him for his? A bead of sweat ran down the side of his face. He was nervous . A reaction Bucky had never had before.
It sent him into a spiral for several days after the two of you met. Weeks, actually, if he was being honest.
Everything after that had fallen into place pretty quickly. You had liked Bucky as soon as you met him and before you knew it months had passed, the two of you quickly found yourself in a budding romance that needed nothing but water and sunlight to grow.
The hardest part of learning to fall in love again was that he was so taken aback by how his body and brain responded to you, it was a bit jarring. It was like his entire brain had awoken a part of himself that had been dormant for years. One yearning for love.
It showed in the way you would get home from work and your favorite flowers would be waiting on the kitchen table, powder blue hydrangeas, with a handwritten note alongside it. Bucky’s handwriting was a little scratchy and hard to make out, but you didn’t need to read it to know what it said:
Thinking of you always. - BB
Or when he took you on a joy ride on the back of his motorcycle, never wearing a helmet himself but making sure the straps were just right when he helped you get yours on. His hands would carefully click the buckle together, biting down on his bottom lip in concentration as he made sure it fit you perfectly.
He didn’t want you getting hurt, not on his watch.
That was it - his big secret. You had him wrapped around your finger. Something so mundane and, frankly, obvious.
Though you never went out of your way to use this knowledge to your advantage. Bucky always came running at the sound of your voice.
“Buck?” you called out one afternoon.
The sun was high in the sky, it was a beautiful day - maybe a little warmer than you liked, but the cool breeze offered some relief.
You were sitting on the balcony reading a book in your favorite spot, overlooking the city that Bucky had loved so much, and that you’ve learned to love with him. It was different from the one he lived in all those decades ago, the apartment he had lived in as a child was small, cramped - to look out the window was to face a family he never knew, living their own lives.
Now, in this decade, the apartment was spacious, overwhelming, the view encompassing the bridge and the East River separating the two boroughs.
A different life, a different time.
“Yeah?” he called back, the door to the balcony slightly ajar so you could both hear each other.
“Can you bring me my sunglasses?”
Bucky chuckled to himself at such a simple request. He was working on fixing some issues in the kitchen, a leaky faucet to be exact - the one that kept dripping. Bucky had a hard time falling asleep as it was, hearing the pitter patter in the middle of the night made him feel like he was going insane.
“Hold on, honey.”
He was currently laying on his back under the sink, his shirt was discarded somewhere next to him and his black mesh shorts rode a bit lower on his hips than he had purposely intended.
It only took him a few turns of his wrench to tighten the compression ring around the pipe in hopes that it would stop the leaking.
“That should be it.”
A few moments passed as he placed the wrench down next to him. He held his breath, but Bucky, unfortunately, a second later felt another water droplet land on his forehead: unsuccessful.
“Shit,” he mumbles to himself before gripping the side of the counter and pulling himself out from under the cabinet.
Bucky hated that this wasn’t working - honestly, he wanted to run to the store and grab some new PVC pipes and just fix the entire thing from scratch. But, your request ran through his head and he quickly pivoted his priorities as he stood up, wiping the sweat from his brow.
“Where’d you put them?” he calls, trying to look in the usual spots before finally stumbling on them. “Nevermind.”
You hear the door swing open, his footsteps alerting his presence but your attention stayed on the book in your lap, wanting to finish the page you were on.
“I couldn’t find them,” he says.
When you finally finished the passage, you placed the bookmark in the between the pages, saving it for another time.
Your head turned to look up at Bucky, his metal arm glistening in the sun and your sunglasses sitting right on his face - that goofy smile of his plastered on his features as he waits for you to notice.
A loud chuckle passes your lips as you reach your hand out for them, shaking your head as he slides them off the bridge of his nose and into the palm of your hands. Once you grab them from him, you put the glasses on, the world dimming a bit, but Bucky still shines bright in front of you.
“Thank you,” you say softly, tilting your head back to admire his half dressed physique. You whistle lowly, causing Bucky to roll his eyes at you. “Were you working on the sink? Sorry, I didn’t even realize.”
“Yeah,” he responds, taking a step closer.
Bucky gestures for you to move over and make room for him, groaning as he finally sits down. His arm rests on the back of the sectional while his fingers run through the hair on the back of your neck.
“I thought I’d be able to fix it by tightening it, but I think the pipe itself has a crack somewhere,” he huffs out, shaking his head. “I’ll have to go to the store later.”
You watch him carefully, your hand holding the book on your lap moving to rest on his thigh, giving it a reassuring squeeze. You could see the concentration in his face, the way his brows furrowed until there was a crease between them. He hated unfinished projects.
“You’re not going to rest until it’s fixed, are you?” you ask, though it’s a question you already know the answer to.
“Absolutely not,” he shakes his head. “Why? Have something in mind for us today?”
“I thought maybe we could go to the park later” you hummed, your fingers tracing shapes into his skin. You tilt your head back to look at him, both of your eyes meeting. “They’re doing a movie night. Raiders of the Lost Ark, if I remember correctly.”
Bucky’s other leg bounced anxiously at the thought, it’s not that he didn’t want to go with you - it’s that he really wanted to fix this stupid sink.
He peaked over at his watch, it was nearly 5:30pm. The store would be closing soon, he’d have to find the right parts then fix the sink, and shower at some point before he’d be ready to go. He didn’t know if he had time to do both the movie and finish this project.
His eyes trail back over towards you and he was greeted with the most beautiful pair he’d ever seen. Were you batting your eyelashes too?
“You play dirty,” Bucky mumbles.
He brings his metal hand up to your face, squeezing your cheeks softly as he leans in to press a few soft, chaste kisses to your lips. He mumbles something about how unfair it is, but you’re so wrapped up in the feeling of his lips you don’t even care what he says.
Bucky begins to stand from his seat, though he doesn’t remove himself from your lips, hunched over to make sure he stays closely connected to you. Your hands now resting on his abdomen as if to keep him in place.
“I have to shower,” he hums against your lips. “And if the movie sucks I’m coming home and ripping the sink apart.”
“You did not just say that Raiders of the Lost Ark is going to suck.”
Bucky chuckles as he trails his lips down your jaw to your neck, giving it a few kisses and a quick bite before he pulls back completely, that same love stricken look on his face.
“I did. I mean it too,” he teases, backing up until he gets to the door of the balcony.
“You’re going to be very upset when you’re wrong, Barnes,” you call out after him.
He gives you a quick wink before dipping back inside the apartment.
You take one last look over the balcony, the cars that were passing over the bridge and the people walking on the streets below. All of them had their own little story. It makes you smile to yourself, thinking of this little life you had built with Bucky.
It kept you both going.
Finally standing, you stretched your arms over your head and grabbed your book before heading back inside the apartment. The cover made a soft thud as you set it down on the coffee table on your way over to the kitchen.
The sound of the shower trickling had your thoughts distracted, even as you began packing the tote bag. You tried to keep your focus on all the goods you wanted to bring and not your very naked boyfriend some 50 feet away from you behind one, probably not locked, door.
How easy it would be to slip in.
You shake your head and focus on the task at hand, packing the bag with: a blanket to sit on, two lime sparkling waters that Bucky had picked up a few days ago, and a mix of snacks to enjoy. The perfect picnic.
Right as you finished, you hear the door open and Bucky step out of the bathroom, the warm steam filling your apartment almost immediately. He looks striking with the towel draped around his hips, his almost freshly cut short hair now wet and combed back.
“You didn’t join me,” he teases, making his way past you and into the bedroom.
“I want to make the movie,” you say back, a smirk on your features. You knew well enough that if you took a step in that shower, Bucky would never let you leave.
The sound of shuffling comes from the other room as you can hear him looking through drawers and the closet for his clothes. Your feet walk you into the bedroom right as he slips his boxers on, a smile on his features as he catches your gaze.
He didn’t want to go out to the park and watch a movie. He didn’t even care about that stupid leak under the sink that he could still hear and was driving him up a wall.
No, he wanted to stay here with you and show you all the ways he loved and adored you. He wanted to worship you with everything he’s got.
His hand reaches out for you and he intertwines your fingers together before he pulls you towards him. You happily oblige.
“You’re still thinking about that damn leak aren’t you?” you whisper, your voice filled with jest.
“Every fucking second.”
The smile on his face is wide as he brings his hands up to your face and kisses your cheeks once, twice, three times, causing a soft laugh to leave your lips. In one fluid motion his hands are under your thighs and lifts you up, placing you on the dresser behind you.
He slots himself between your legs and watches you closely, your hands moving to grip his wrists.
“Let’s stay here,” Bucky pleads softly. “Let’s never leave this apartment ever again.”
“I’d love to never have to do that, but you know that’s impossible.”
“Hmm,” he hums. “Not with that attitude, sweetheart.”
He manages to get his hands free from your wrists, sliding them down to your hips and pulling you forward until your legs wrap around his waist, your heels resting on the back of his thighs.
“Bucky,” you groan.
Your head falls back softly against the wall, in the same motion Bucky rests his head on your shoulder.
“Wishful thinking, huh?” he asks, a sigh leaving his lips afterwards.
It’s not that he hated the power that you had over him, it was that he didn’t know how you managed to affect him so much. You didn’t even put up a fight with him and he folded, all because you said his name.
He pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder before he untangled himself from you and moved to get dressed - a pair of black jeans, a t-shirt that was a little too tight around his muscles and a sweatshirt he knows you’re going to steal at some point.
Finally ready to go.
It only took a few minutes to get to the park. You’re greeted by a sea of people, most of whom have already laid out their lounge chairs or blankets. The sun hadn’t set yet, casting a warm glow as you two found a spot a little bit away from the rest of the crowd. More secluded, but you two would still be able to see and hear the movie just fine.
Bucky helped set up the blanket, a long red gingham pattern one that he may have muttered a sarcastic comment about how cliche it was. You may have, lovingly, given him the finger in response.
The movie started only a few minutes after you and Bucky set up the snacks and drinks. Both of you were laying on your sides, elbows planted on the blanket while hands kept your head off the ground.
Bucky was very into the movie, barely sneaking glances over at you like he normally did whenever. It captured his attention almost immediately. You watched as he popped a grape into his mouth, his tired eyes trained on the screen in front of him as he absentmindedly chewed.
It was calming to see him in this environment. You knew that deep down he would never 100% be present, that he always kept one part of his brain active to scan for any potential threats. But seeing Bucky in a state of, mostly, ease felt like finding a diamond in the rough. Rare, but valuable.
Halfway through the movie Bucky moves to sit up, stretching his arms over his head before holding his hand out to you. He always seemed to be reaching for you. Once your hand is in his, one swift motion is all it takes for him to pull you into his lap, nestling you between his legs, your back now resting against his chest.
His hands move to run down your arm and he can feel the goosebumps rising against your skin.
“You’re cold,” he mumbles in your ear.
You want to protest that it’s just from his touch, but the words die in the back of your throat as soon as you feel him sit back from you. He pulls off his sweatshirt and hands it over, watching as you carefully slip on the oversized material. Bucky wraps his arms around your torso once you’re settled, pulling you back as close as he can before resting his chin on the top of your head.
“Much better.”
Your heart flutters, as it seems it always does when he acts this way.
Cuddly. Soft. In love.
Bucky feels like his heart is bleeding out right through his shirt at this moment, you could tell him to do anything in front of this crowd of people and he would comply without hesitation. He didn’t even care.
Maybe that was the thing that kept him going in this life. The little pieces of calm he can get when you are around. When the tides don’t feel as strong.
He didn’t want to think about it, he wanted to enjoy himself: your presence, and the movie.
It’s a little while later when the movie finally finished, you craned your head back to look up at him, a smirk on your lips. He was staring ahead at the now blank screen, jaw slightly dropped.
“I thought you said the movie was going to suck,” you teased.”
“I didn’t know I was coming to see a cinematic masterpiece.”
You let out a laugh, and then another one as Bucky squeezes your sides as his response, falling back over his thigh as you wriggle to try and get away from his wandering, playful hans.
God, he wished you weren’t in public right now.
“And here you wanted to stay at home to fix that stupid sink.”
“No, I wanted to stay home so I could –”
“ Bucky ,” you cut him off before he can finish that thought, watching as a family walks past.
He lets out a scoff that sounds more like a laugh and pinches your side again as you start to stand up from his lap. Bucky admires you from this angle, the way that you towered over him was so jarring compared to how small you normally were when he stood next to you.
“I was going to say so I could take care of you , but if you were worried I was going to say something more vulgar than you need to get your mind out of the gutter, sweetheart.”
“You’re so full of shit.”
Bucky’s smile reaches his eyes this time as he throws his head back and lets out a laugh. You were so right and he loved being called out on it, because he loved how well you knew him.
He stands to help you pack the tote bag again, throwing it over his shoulder when it’s done. You grab his metal hand and intertwine your fingers together as you make your way back to the apartment.
The city was dark now, only illuminated by street lamps and a few fluorescent signs. Surprisingly the neighborhood was mostly empty, you and Bucky seeming to take up most of the sidewalk and filling the silence with your chit chat about the movie.
Bucky was blown away by the story, the action … well the whole thing.
You were biting back your tongue to not say I told you so .
“You always get your way, you know that?” he says once you're in the lobby waiting for the elevator. “I don’t think I’m capable of saying no to you if I really tried.”
“That’s not true,” you respond.
Though if you take a second to think about it, he’s probably right.
The elevator dings its arrival and dips slightly from the weight of the two of you as you step on. You press the button for your floor a few times before turning your attention back to Bucky. He’s standing right next to you, his hand slipping out of yours to wrap around your shoulders, pulling you against his side. Your head leans to rest against him, it always fits perfectly.
“It’s a little true,” he says with a shrug. “I’m not complaining.”
There’s a beat of silence before he speaks again.
“I’ve never had anyone to care about. Not in this way at least.”
“You cared about Steve.”
“That’s different,” he sighs. “I made sure Steve stayed alive. I didn’t dote over him. I look at you and I’d drop everything just to see that damn smile on your face.”
The blush developed on your cheeks at record speed, a smile accompanying it that was hard to hold back. Sometimes Bucky had a way with words that took your breath away. He could be deeply poetic. It made you wonder what he thought of in that brain of his.
“There it is,” he whispers, his gaze flickering down to your lips.
The ding of the elevator snaps the moment back into reality, but that doesn’t deter Bucky in the slightest.
No, instead he follows you down the hall and into the apartment, waiting for the door to shut before he picks you up from behind and walks you to the bedroom to toss you on the bed - the sound of your giggles filling the air.
The second you hit the mattress, and he crawls on top of you, your hands grab his face bringing him down to kiss him feverishly. It’s rushed and messy, tongues sweeping across lips, teeth biting and pulling.
You don’t need to tell him you need him for Bucky to know it, he can read you like an open book.
As he kisses down your jaw – his stubble scratching your soft skin, hands moving to slide your shirt up, ready to spend the night devouring you – all he can think about is how his love for you is the worst kept secret in the world. And not about the stupid leaky faucet.
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky x reader#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes fic#bucky fanfic#james barnes#james barnes fluff#bucky fluff#mine#one shot#100#200#500#1K#1.5K#2K
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I was wondering if you could please do one where max’s (or Lando’s you chose) daughter starts karting and wins here first race with all of her favorite grid uncles there
Little Racer



The paddock buzzed with excitement that Saturday morning, not because of any Formula 1 action, but because a certain little girl with golden hair and sky-blue eyes was about to take on her latest karting race.
Yn tugged on her tiny race suit, the orange and blue colors matching her Papa's old team. The suit looked just a touch too big on her, but she wore it with pride. Her helmet sat nearby, a bright pink with little lightning bolts that she had insisted on—“because I’m fast like Papa,” she’d declared with a grin that melted Max’s heart every single time.
Max stood nearby, arms crossed, eyes locked on every strap and buckle as if she were about to get into an F1 car rather than a kart. Kelly sat with Charles and Daniel under the canopy nearby, watching the scene unfold with amused expressions.
“I swear,” Kelly said, sipping her coffee, “he’s more stressed before her race than he is before a Grand Prix.”
Charles chuckled. “He’s been checking that helmet for the past twenty minutes. It’s a helmet, mate, not a spaceship.”
Daniel leaned over and whispered to Pierre, “Ten bucks says he forgets to breathe during the race.”
Pierre grinned. “You’re on.”
Meanwhile, Max knelt down in front of Yn, adjusting her gloves. “Are you sure everything feels okay, schatje?”
Yn nodded eagerly. “Yes, Papa! It’s perfect! Look!” She bounced on the balls of her feet and struck a dramatic pose. “I’m ready to zoom!”
Max smiled, but it was tight. “Okay. But remember—take the inside line into turn three. You’ve been braking too early.”
“I know, I know,” she giggled. “You told me that, like, a hundred times!”
“Because I care,” Max said seriously, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “You’re fast, baby, but smart wins races.”
She tilted her head, frowning a little. “But I always get second or third.”
“That’s because you’re still learning. But you’ll get there. You always do.”
Kelly walked over then and placed a gentle hand on Max’s shoulder. “Let her have fun, Max. It’s supposed to be fun.”
Max sighed. “I know. I just—she’s so small.”
“She’s also a Verstappen,” Kelly teased. “She was born ready.”
As Yn was called to the starting grid, she ran off with her tiny karting team, giving Max a double thumbs-up. “Wish me luck!”
“Good luck!” the group of drivers shouted behind her in unison.
Max remained planted in the same spot, watching the little kart go, lips pressed in a line.
“You gonna breathe, man?” Carlos teased, walking up and clapping Max on the back.
“Barely,” Max muttered.
Lando snickered. “He’s going to cry, I swear.”
The race started, and the tension around Max increased by the second. The screen showed the little karts darting around the track, and every time another kart got too close to Yn, Max’s jaw clenched. His hands gripped the edge of the barrier, knuckles white.
“She’s fine,” Fernando said calmly. “She’s in third and holding her line well.”
“Oh God, that kid behind her is getting too close—” Max started, but then Yn took a sharp move on the next turn and overtook second place.
Daniel whooped. “She’s flying!”
“Still needs to catch the leader though,” Pierre pointed out.
Lap after lap, she gained ground. And then, on the final lap, just before the last corner, Yn made a daring move that made the entire group leap to their feet.
“She’s going for it!” Charles shouted.
“No way—” Carlos muttered.
And then—she did it. Yn crossed the finish line in first place.
Max didn’t even react for a moment. His brain needed a full five seconds to process what had just happened. His baby girl had won.
“She did it,” he whispered, almost in disbelief. “She won.”
Kelly clapped her hands and kissed his cheek, eyes shining. “She did it, Max!”
Max barely registered anything else. He was already jogging toward the parc fermé where little Yn was jumping up and down next to her kart, helmet off, hair sticking to her forehead, eyes wide with joy.
“PAPA!” she squealed, launching herself into his arms.
Max caught her, lifting her high off the ground. “I’m so proud of you,” he whispered, hugging her tightly, his eyes damp. “So, so proud.”
“I won, Papa! I won! Did you see me? I did what you said! I took the inside!”
“You were perfect,” Max choked out, kissing her temple. “My little champion.”
The other drivers soon joined, surrounding her with praise and affection.
“You’re the coolest kid ever,” Daniel said, giving her a high-five.
“First win, huh?” Pierre grinned. “You’ll be faster than your Papa in no time.”
“I waved at you!” Yn beamed from the podium, grinning as she held up a shiny, golden little trophy. “Did you see me waving?”
“We saw, chérie!” Charles called out, clapping.
“You’re a legend now,” Lando said, pretending to wipe a tear. “Our little legend.”
“I wanna do it again,” Yn declared proudly. “I wanna win more!”
“You will,” Max promised, arms still tightly around her. “But this one? This one’s special. It’s your first.”
And he looked at her trophy with the kind of admiration that no WDC title could ever match.
The house was quiet, wrapped in the gentle stillness of late night. Yn had fallen asleep hours ago, snuggled into her bed, still in her pajamas covered in little race cars. Her tiny trophy rested beside her on the nightstand, glinting softly under the warm light of her night lamp.
In the living room, Kelly walked in with a mug of tea, only to find Max kneeling in front of their large trophy shelf.
“What are you doing?” she asked softly, amused.
Max was carefully rearranging things, gently pushing his latest WCC trophy to the side. His WDCs joined it, shuffled just slightly away from the spotlight.
Right in the center, now placed on a small elevated platform of its own, was Yn’s trophy.
“She deserves center stage,” Max murmured without looking back.
Kelly chuckled, sitting on the couch. “You do realize it’s a four-inch plastic cup, right?”
Max finally stood and turned to her, arms crossed, nodding. “Exactly. And it means more to me than all the rest combined.”
Kelly raised a brow. “You’re so whipped, it’s ridiculous.”
Max shrugged, walking over and dropping onto the couch beside her. “That’s my daughter. My little champion. You saw her today—she was flawless. Brave. Smart. Calm. Four, and she was more composed than I was at twenty-two.”
“She really was,” Kelly said softly, resting her head on his shoulder.
They sat in silence for a moment before Max whispered, “You think it’s too soon to get her a custom kart?”
Kelly snorted. “Max.”
“I’m just saying. Maybe carbon fiber—lightweight chassis—”
“Max.”
“Fine,” he sighed. “Next month.”
Kelly rolled her eyes fondly. “You’re impossible.”
He grinned, glancing toward the trophy case again, where one small trophy gleamed in the spotlight like it belonged in a museum.
“But admit it,” he said with a soft smile, “it looks pretty good up there, huh?”
Kelly looked and then smiled. “Yeah. It really does.”
♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♥︎♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
Authors Note: Hey loves. I hope you enjoyed reading this story. My requests are always open for you.
-🩷🎀
#f1 drivers as fathers#🩷🎀#formula 1#formula one#f1 x reader#f1 x female reader#formula 1 x reader#max verstappen x daughter!reader#dad max verstappen#max verstappen x reader#verstappen!reader#dad!max verstappen#max verstappen#f1 x daughter!reader#carlos sainz x reader#lando norris x reader#charles leclerc x reader#pierre gasly x reader#george russell x reader#oscar piastri x reader#lewis hamilton x reader#alex albon x reader
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MANEATER | SIM JAEYUN (M)

PAIRING: virgin!jake x yn (femreader)
SYNOPSIS: in which jake is tired of being a virgin and you're asked to help him out.
WARNINGS: smut so MDNI! vrignity loss, oral (m and f receiving), unprotected sex (be safe out there), creampie, riding, multiple orgasms, etc. cursing, words like slut/whore, BARELY PROOFREAD
WC: 5k, lowercase intended
MESSAGE FROM NIC: here it finally is!! (sorry for the delay) my first piece of smut,,, hope it's what everyone imagined 😁 (also tysm for 2k notes on the teaser ahh!!) big thank u to my stella, @karinasbaby for encouraging this fic, one of my biggest supporters ilysm. pls be kind as this is something new for me BUT feedback is super appreciated, tell me what u liked and didn't like! (respectfully) also reblogs would be nice as well so feel free to drop one. love u guys sm 🫶🏼
jake sim was a virgin. a pitiful, pitiful virgin. and it’s not like he was ugly. not even close to that. jake was an attractive guy, easy on the eyes. and his flirting? a real smooth talker he was.
it was as if 2000s chad michael murray possessed his very soul every single time he would chat up a girl at a party or in class.
so why couldn't he ever close the deal? how did he find himself in a steamy makeout session one second and then the next the girl is storming out of the room in disgust. every. single. time.
oh yea, because he was a fucking virgin. a pitiful, pitiful virgin.
it seemed like girls these days wanted a man in charge. someone who could help them live out their fifty shades of grey fantasies. jake would like to think he could do that for them but how could he ever learn if no one wanted to give him the time of day? what happened to the girls that would spread their legs for anything and anyone?
all jake needed was one chance. one chance to stick his dick in a hole and he can move on with his life.
his friends didn't make it any better either. he was getting tired of hearing all about their wild sexcapades every week and having nothing to contribute to the conversation.
but they don’t intentionally leave him out or make him feel bad about his lack of experience. they even try getting him with their past hookups because you know, sharing is caring right?
“dude no way you fumbled sora. she’s a real slut i was so sure she would let you hit,” sunghoon says as he’s unwrapping his sandwich then taking a bite. “bro i didn't fumble anything. it's the same shit every time, once i tell them im a virgin they dip,” jake responds while he steals sunghoon’s sandwich and takes a bite for himself.
sunghoon doesn't even argue, his best friend is clearly in distress and is need of some food. “she started ranting about how she doesnt “do” virgins because they get attached and she thinks im gonna become obsessed with her or something.”
“why do you even tell them you’re a virgin in the first place? if that's the issue why even say anything at all?” heeseung questions with a mouth full of the same sandwich that somehow now ended up in his hands.
“because if he cums in .2 seconds then the girls are gonna think he’s a bad fuck. there's no winning here.” jake nods in agreement with jay's statement as he watches jay snatch the sandwich from heeseung and finish it off.
this is what is so beautiful about their friendship. they share everything with each other, the main things being girls and food. unfortunately for jake, bites of food is all he gets.
—-----------------
“oh fuck!” jakes pants while bucking his hips forward. vision blurry, drool pooling around the corner of his mouth. he genuinely feels like his soul is leaving his body and he wasn’t sure this was even real life anymore. to ground himself and bring him back to reality, he tries looking around the room to find something to distract him.
he doesn’t want to cum embarrassingly fast and he does NOT want to be seen as a bad fuck. out of the corner of his eye he spots a baby yoda squishmallow in the corner of the room, its sparkly eyes watching jake get his dick sucked for the first time.
it’s kind of weird but he finds comfort in the plushie and focuses on it to keep him from fucking exploding.
now you might be wondering how he got here. in a hot girl’s room getting what he swears is the best head in his life (not that he has anything to compare it to.) the answer is jay, his best friend in the entire world who he now owes his first born to.
“her name’s yn. just text her and ask when she wants to meet. i told her you were a virgin already so don’t worry about that,” jay explains as he’s scrolling through your profile showing jake what you look like.
silky, flowy hair, curves to die for. to say you’re gorgeous would be an understatement. the whole ordeal seemed too good to be true.
“she wants to fuck me? even after hearing i’m a virgin?” jake asks after grabbing his milk tea from the counter and walking towards a table.
jay simply nods and throws a look towards sunghoon, signaling him to explain the rest as they all take a seat. “yea that’s kind of her thing. she loves virgins. like, her body count consists of only virgins.”
jake was perplexed by the situation. surely he’d hear about a beautiful woman who only drops her panties for inexperienced guys roaming their campus.
heeseung then speaks up, as if reading jake’s mind, “she goes to the college in the next town over. around a 20 minute drive.” before continuing his sentence he shifts his eyes towards jay and sunghoon. eyeballs darting back and forth.
some unspoken dialogue is happening between the three as they sip their sweet drinks and jake just has to sit there and watch. minutes go by and jay clears his throat and sighs, finally breaking the silence.
“she uh, actually took all of our virginities back in high school. that’s how we know her.”
pause. the fuck? he knew his friends all have gotten their dicks wet for the same girl before but at the same time? jake couldn’t believe what he was hearing. i mean, he did only just meet them three years ago, whatever they were up to before then he can’t judge.
he supposes desperate times call for desperate measures, and jake is sure he would’ve ended up in the same situation soon if they weren’t handing you on a silver platter to him.
“so… you guys had a foursome for your first times??”
heeseung instantly chokes on his boba as jake’s arm receives a punch from jay. a faint giggle is heard from sunghoon, “this bitch is choking on some balls.”
ignoring heeseung’s dramatics jay clarifies, “no you idiot, she took all of our virginities separately. we weren’t as desperate as you were.”
“and like, that pussy is so heavenly. i’d be pissed having to share her with another guy at the same time.”
“roger that, brother.”
jake looks towards the two, sunghoon rubbing heeseung’s back trying to calm him down from his almost near death over some balls.
“care to elaborate?”
“man why do you think we’re all sex crazed freaks? her pussy’s got some voodoo magic in it or something. our manhood didn’t begin when we watched porn for the first time together, it started with her,” jay pauses and shifts in his seat, slight discomfort in his lower region.
he looks up and pinches his nose, “fuck i’m getting hard just thinking about it.” sneaking a peek at jay’s lower half, jake can see his friend chubbing it up in his pants. nothing he’s never seen before honestly.
but what he hadn't seen before was how his friends were reminiscing so hard on a hook up the way they were right now. and the fact that their origin story of discovering their high libidos is all because of you? he was scared shitless of what he was about to get himself into.
-------------------
fast forward to some exchanged texts between you guys, jake found himself in your room with his pants around his ankles getting the life sucked out of him.
he quickly discovered you were very straightforward and to the point, immediately sending him your apartment address and what time to show up.
jake couldn’t argue though, all this talk about how you were gonna “change his life” and shit got him real worked up. he appreciated the fact that you skipped the small talk and went straight for his dick.
upon arriving and stepping into your living space, your lips smashed onto his and he was pushed down onto the bed. no hi, no hello. just your lucious, full lips swapping spit with his.
his hands instinctively flew to your waist, his digits gripping your plush skin as you straddle him. jake felt so in his element in the moment. making out? this is where he excels. he could do this all day if he could.
but he was here on a mission and he’ll be damned if he leaves without fucking you. or you fucking him. he was honestly down for whatever. you could ask to peg him and he would say yes.
you can sense his impatience, his face twisting in pleasure trying to savor every moment while the cogs are turning in his head, awaiting your next move. every squeeze he gave signaled that he wanted to get things moving.
you make your way down his body, peppering kisses any and everywhere leaving his skin burning. jake couldn’t believe what was about to happen.
in less than a minute he was about to get his first blowjob ever. what does he do? where do his hands go? what if he chokes you? what if he passes out from the stimulation?
before he can think of anymore what to do’s and what if’s, your mouth is on his dick and jake is seeing stars, figuratively and literally. he takes note of the little ones taped to your ceiling and thinks it’s cute.
the pink walls and plushies surrounding the two of you is such a stark contrast to your personality, or what little jake knows of you. but hey, he likes a woman with some duality to her.
“you can put your hands in my hair.”
jake finally takes a look down at you. pupils blown out, lips a bit swollen from all the sucking. you looked so, so pretty like this. he can only imagine what you look like with his cock in you.
trembling hands grab at your hair, slightly pushing you further down and a gagging noise emerges from the back of your throat. oh shit. your nose is practically meeting his pelvic bone and you aren’t letting up.
fuck it, jake thinks to himself. he was done with being patient. he starts fucking up into your mouth relentlessly, chasing the orgasm he was delaying. and you just let him.
you’re merely a hole for him in this moment and you could care less. his dick may be average in size but the girthiness of it was so delicious, you couldn’t get enough.
to make sure he reaches his high, you reach for his balls and start playing with them. his erratic thrusts combined with you squeezing his genitals he twitches in your mouth and his cum is shooting out, pooling out the sides of your lips.
and you don’t stop there. you keep going and going and jake actually feels like he’s going to pass out. “okay, okay please please!” you swallow everything he gave you and finally let him go with a pop to come up for air.
you get up and see him lying there on your bed, unmoving. eyes closed and mouth agape barely taking breaths. one might think he’s dead but this was typical.
once a guy gets to cum in a girl’s mouth for the first time they don’t know what to do with themselves. nudging him with your knee he breaks out of his trance with a lopsided smile adorning his face. god he’s adorable.
before you can suggest a break he immediately grabs you by the hips and flips you onto your back. your shorts go flying onto the floor behind him and he spreads your legs wide to prop them onto his shoulders.
his tongue immediately attaches to your clit and he starts licking you all over. slurping and sucking, as if this was his last meal on earth. he was desperate to get you to cum the way you made him and it was showing.
jake’s eating you out a little too expertly to your liking, as if he’s done this a million times. you won’t judge if he has, you’re literally the last person to judge someone’s sexual history but how is he still a virgin if he eats pussy this good?
he must’ve been met with horrible women who just used him for his mouth and left him dry. you wouldn’t do that to him though, poor guy doesn’t deserve that.
he inserts two fingers into your hole while his mouth was still working your clit. jesus christ. you didn’t notice before but his fingers were so slender and long, reaching places your own didn’t. “am i doing okay? kind of my first time.”
oh? so this was his first time eating pussy. you simply give him a nod of approval, not being able to utter a word as he dives right back in.
in all of your sexual encounters, never has there been a guy so willing to return the favor. and the fact that you didn’t even have to ask? where the fuck did jay find a guy like this? was he aware his friend was a fucking certified munch?
determined to make sure you cum, jake inserts another finger and moves his fingers in an upward motion, trying to find your spot. at least that’s what wikihow told him how to do it.
the sound of your moans and the taste of your pussy on his tongue simply feel amazing and he feels like he could come alone like this. at this point you’re panting and riding his fingers and god it’s so hot. you’re so hot.
jake finds himself humping into the mattress, trying to aid his painful hard on he’s grown since going down on you.
his wrist begins to ache with how fast he’s pumping into you but he doesn’t give a fuck, he’ll do anything to see what you look like when you reach your high.
“oh god, i’m, i’m- ahhh!” you come undone onto his mouth and hand, lips forming an o shape with the most pornographic moan he’s ever heard and he silently releases his load along with you onto the bed.
jake makes sure every single drop of your delicious juices are all licked up, driving your oversensitivity.
“so? how was i?”
you take a look at his annoyingly cute face and he’s licking all over his fingers like a lollipop. cute. gaining some of your composure, your eyes spot a wet spot on your sheets.
“wait, did you…”
“oh. sorry about that. i couldn’t help it.” jake explains with a sheepish smile and a scratch behind his head. not only is this guy a munch but he came untouched while tongue fucking you. you weren’t even sure guys like him existed, like at all.
without speaking another word, you grab the back of his neck and smash your lips onto his. tasting yourself on him has you wet all over again and you both begin to undress each other.
you detach yourself to take your shirt off and he pauses to fully look at you, drinking in every inch of your body. hands grab at your boobs and he pinches a nipple, a small moan escaping your mouth.
your body was literally to die for, the pictures on your profile barely doing you justice. and to finally be able to feel all around your curves and give your boods and ass tight squeezes was a dream come true for jake.
(he may or may not have been jerking off to the few posts you have up, counting down the days of you guys finally meeting but you didn’t have to know that)
you also took a moment to admire his body. to say jake was sculpted like a fucking greek god was an understatement, sporting a six pack and biceps to die for. veins running all over his arms and hands.
deciding it’s finally time to do the deed, you switch positions and motion for him to lay on his back. “are you ready?”
“wait! what about a condom?”
“i’m clean and i know you are so…”
“right.”
you throw your legs over his waist, now straddling him with your vagina inches from his cock. “okay, take deep breaths. i’m gonna slowly go down alright?”
jake throws a thumbs up and eagerly nods. in a moment like this he doesn’t fail to be endearing. you could literally just eat him up with how cute he was. your pussy was about to anyway.
you lace your fingers with his and slowly lower yourself onto him. there’s some intimacy with your actions and jake finds comfort in your eyes, looking at him adoringly.
it was finally fucking happening and jake couldn’t believe it. he was about to become a man. and the fact that it was you taking his virginity, a gorgeous woman who doesn’t care that he’s inexperienced and lets him hit it raw. it's really all he can ask for.
once your walls are wrapped around his tip, jake’s a goner. the little sweet moment you two shared is thrown out the window and he starts bucking his hips up into you, hard and fast.
his hands find purchase on your hips and he’s gripping them so hard you're sure there will be bruises tomorrow. you wanted to start out slow as it is his first time but it seems his thrusting says otherwise.
you press your hands against his chest and begin to move rhythmically in sync with him. jake’s eyes immediately roll back and his breathing quickens.
his hands fall to his side and he lays lifeless beneath you, letting you take full control.
all he could do was stare at the spot where his dick entered you and it was making him even more hornier. he couldn’t tell where he ended and you began.
your wetness didn’t help anything either. the squelching sounds indicated that you were very much enjoying this as much as he was.
“fuck you feel so good baby,” jake moans. the pet name that slips past his lips and it doesn’t go unnoticed but you also don’t question it.
for some reason the simple word made your heart jump. guys always called things like babe or even whore when they really let loose.
those never got to your head, you know they couldn’t really control themselves in the moment and you let them have their fun.
but jake has been nothing but kind to you this whole time, like he knew you were doing him a service and not the other way around.
this only fueled your desire to ensure that his sure first time exceeded his expectations so upped your menstrations. you quickly changed your pace to grind forward, backwards, and in circles making sure his dick felt every inch of you.
jake’s mind was reeling, his breath caught in his throat. he feels as if his dick was about to fall off with the way you were moving.
your body leans forward and you begin to kiss at his neck, leaving hickeys everywhere. your hot breath near his ear sends him into overdrive, must be a sensitive spot of his he never knew he had, but also how could he have known?
his hands that were once gripping the sheets meet your ass and he starts to guide you up and down his cock. you both were about to reach your climaxes, your pussy clenching with every move.
“i’m- where? fuck! where do i cum?”
“inside. cum inside me please.”
inside?? his first time cumming from sex and you were gonna let him do it inside of you? jake swears you couldn’t be any more perfect than you are right now.
you knew you threw him for a loop and honestly yourself as well. pushing these thoughts towards the back of your head you start riding him aggressively, even faster than before. “fuck, jake i’m cumming!”
“me too baby oh my god!”
and there was that damn pet name again. it makes your heart leap out of your chest and sends you over the edge.
the knot in your stomach snaps and jake follows shortly after, his load shooting into you. it pools out of you and you don’t hesitate to swipe some up with a delicate finger and bring it to your mouth, mirroring his actions from earlier.
your eyes meet his fucked out ones and you smile down at him, admiring the masterpiece of lovebites you left all over him. his vision was a bit blurry but he catches the way your lips curled upward, flashing your pearly whites.
jake finds himself instantly becoming hard again, call him easy but when a pretty girl is smiling at him like that after fucking him, can you really blame him?
you move yourself off of him and jake was fully expecting you to kick him out now but instead you position yourself on all fours, your ass in the air inviting him in.
“fuck. you’re into anal?”
you turn your head sharply to look at him over your shoulder, raising an eyebrow to question what he just said. the look you give him says it all and jake takes the hint and positions himself behind you.
“can we try anal next time though?”
an exasperated sigh leaves your lips and you reach over to grab his dick, inserting him into you. “umph! okay sorry.”
upon entering your pussy, jake relishes in the feeling of it. being inside your heat again leaves him breathless for the nth time today.
in and out. in and out. he tries to match his breathing with his gradual strokes. his member is extra sensitive right now and he’s trying not to lose himself. the impatience he had earlier has now moved onto you so you decide to take matters into your own hands and start fucking back into him.
your ass is now meeting his hips and the sound of skin slapping echoes in your room along with your moans. jake’s body is flailing from the sudden impact but he grounds his hands around your waist and grips the shit out of you.
he notices bruises forming on your skin but he can’t for the life of him let go. oops. he’ll do his best to remember to apologize for them tomorrow.
when there’s a good pace between the two of you, you fling yourself upward, back meeting his chest and the new angle has him reaching spots he didn’t before.
you take one of his strong arms and place it around your neck, having him choke you as you ride him like there’s no tomorrow. jake’s brain begins to turn to mush and he feels like he’s even more turned on at the revelation of one of your kinks.
and at this point you’re fucking onto him so hard, so good, he didn’t want it to end. “shit. shit. i love your pussy so much baby.” jake whines into your ear, meaning every word he said.
is it crazy to say you love someone upon meeting them for the first time? well, their pussy. yea. maybe. but who gives a fuck.
he was a man possessed by you, by your pussy. in this moment he truly believed there was some voodoo magic going on down there and he was blessed to be experiencing it.
you clench at his words, and your heart flips once more, prompting you to draw him closer to you (if that was even remotely possible)
the closeness of your bodies creates another intimate moment shared, kisses stolen from one another, hands tangled in his hair.
“i’m close,” he whispers in your ear, his breath leaving tingles down your spine. the hushed whispers you exchange contrast the sporadic thrusting that’s happening.
determined to reach your second high of the day, you push jake onto his back and settle yourself onto your knees, continuing to bounce up and down on his cock.
“yea just like that baby, shit shit shit i’m cumming, i’m cumming!”
jake opens his eyes to watch the scene unfold before him and god was it something. your back arches as you take his cum in you once more and your screams fill his ears, signaling you orgasmed right after him.
this moment alone is better than porn itself, and jake savors every bit of it. there’s absolutely no way he can even bring himself to type “nsfw” in his twitter search bar ever again after this.
you hover yourself over him leaving just the tip inside before sliding right back down, pushing his seed back in while it gushes around his cock leaving jake wanting, no needing, a third round with you.
but to his dismay you roll yourself off of his body, landing on the mattress next to him.
“so… how do you feel?”
he releases a long exhale he didn’t know he was holding, “fantastic. 10/10 experience. would do it again.” you simply giggle at his response with a shake of your head, getting up to gather your clothes.
“wait! um, could we do this again?”
you playfully roll your eyes at him, leaving his question unanswered as you begin to dress yourself.
—-----------------
sat in his computer chair, jake is finding it difficult to finish this stupid ethics assignment. how is he supposed to argue about the death penalty when you straight up almost murdered him with your pussy less than 2 hours ago?
he’s sure his professor wouldn’t appreciate if he wrote that he doesn’t give a fuck about someone serving their punishment if the culprit was you, but honestly speaking he’d let you get away with just about anything. you were an angel sent from above to him who could do no wrong.
the way your soft lips wrapped around his cock while your innocent (not) eyes bored into his soul. the way you licked and kissed every single inch of his body, leaving nothing left untouched. and god, the way you worked his dick? how was he supposed to move on from you??
you were an insatiable, sex-crazed goddess. a once in a lifetime experience he was so grateful to have.
his thoughts are interrupted by a loud knocking at his door. two seconds later, jay trails into jake’s room followed by dumb and dumber, all of them having a snug look on their faces.
they make themselves comfortable before they get right into the interrogation. jay leans against the desk, sunghoon sits in the bean bag situated in the corner, and heeseung sprawls himself across the bed.
“so virgin, how was it?”
“wasn’t i right about her pussy?”
“where did she make you cum?”
eyes rolling in the back of his head, jake takes a deep sigh before answering their questions. “one, i’m not a virgin anymore so stop calling me that. two, it was absolutely fucking amazing. literally would give up heaven for it. and three, she had me cum in her. twice.”
heeseung shoots up from his position, jaw dropped and eyes wide. “you came in her twice?!” the boys all share a bewildered expression on their faces, dramatic as always.
jake just shrugs at them, what? didn’t you usually let guys cum in you like the freak you were?
jay slaps his hands down on jake’s shoulders, aggressively turning the computer chair towards him. “jake. buddy. yn has two rules.”
sunghoon suddenly appears on jay’s left, “one. you can’t cum in her. you can cum anywhere BUT inside of her.”
heeseung follows and is now on jay’s right side, “and two. she doesn’t repeat fuck.”
immediately following this revelation there’s silence. complete and utter silence. the gazes they hold are intense and uninviting. as if they truly couldn’t believe you let their best friend who’s never felt the touch of a woman break one of your rules.
their eyes say it all, they love jake to death and are happy for him, like seriously happy and relieved he’s finally entered manhood. but really? none of them got to do what he did? what was so special about him?
you don’t even know the answer to those questions yourself. maybe it was the puppy eyes or his whiny moans that made you feel like you had him in the palm of your hands.
his eagerness to pleasure you but to also receive reminded you of the sole purpose of why you only go for virgins. they made you feel wanted while also letting you be in charge. call it selfishness but why can’t a girl have the best of both worlds?
and you’d never admit it, but jake was one of the best fucks you’ve had in a while. he never tried to be someone he wasn’t, just authentically himself. a pitiful, pitiful virgin. and he was proud of it.
it was refreshing to fuck someone who didn’t have some sort of ego right after you were done with them. immediately bragging to everyone what you two did and acting like they could pull any girl as if you weren’t doing charity work for most of them.
with all of this in mind, of course you let him cum in you. he was doing so well for you, how could you not reward him? had to let him do it twice to drive it home.
and seriously, what kind of guy gives you a tender, sweet goodbye kiss and thanks you for defiling him? you didn’t regret your decisions with him but they were definitely scaring you.
never have you ever been this intimate with a guy, but jake was different. you felt it. and what you did next didn’t scare you as much as your recent choices with him.
*ping!*
the staredown between jake and his friends comes to a halt and he digs his phone out of his pocket to check it. sliding up, he sees the message appear on his screen:
you: are you free tomorrow?
he glances at his friends’ expectant eyes and throws them a smirk. looks like he gets to break that second rule of yours.
© fakeuwus 2024 do not repost, translate, or plagiarize
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[SDV] SDV Bachelors x Reader With Big Tits
Give your thanks to @angelsfics221 !
Summary: The SDV Bachelors (+ Maru ) being horndogs over the reader/farmer having a huge pair of personalities.
Warning(s): Pure horny energy from the jump, Masturbation, The guys are big tit fiends ngl, Top! Reader (In Maru's part), Whiny Alex + Sam (I kinda always write whiny Sam though)
Side Note(s): As a member of the big titties club. I'm a certified PHD at this topic (And the fact that, once you have a rack, you sign away any rights to doing jumping jacks again—)
Hope you enjoy! Sorry for the long wait 😔
Elliot
Nipple sucking while giving him a blow-job.
That's all I need to say.
While I imagine that Elliot would be respectful, don't get me wrong. He's still human and he has fantasies like anyone else would! I'd like to imagine that he truly appreciated your huge personalities when summer came.
After you finished your chores for the day, you decided to take a trip to the beach and have some fun in the water! And when Elliot stepped out of his cabin to innocently read on the pier—
He didn't even notice he had dropped his book when he saw you. Your two-piece almost seeming to struggle holding your tits in as you lightly kicked at the water and splashed in it.
Each time you bent down to scoop water into your hands, blissfully unaware of the man whose eyes were practically glued to your figure. The writer felt like he had been transported to heaven and back.
He knew he had to talk to you and that he did!
A conversation that went sooo well that you were more than happy to tour his small cabin and let him appreciate your figure from a whole lot closer than the pier.
♡ - Elliot's mind was dizzy with lust and shame.
Usually, he'd have more decorum than this.
He'd first get to know a person, learn their hobbies and interests as well as their personality long before the idea of sex even dared to cross his mind, much less think to slip from his tongue! But with you? It seemed like all manners just went out the window.
That first glimpse of you at the beach was enough to make his knees buckle and his book fall into the salty water below, immediately forgotten about in the face of your breasts threatening to slip from your bikini with each movement you made, but now? As he relished in the feeling of your hand tenderly stroking his dick as he sucked at your nipple, his hand gently massaging the other and eliciting sweet moans from your kiss-swollen lips—he could really care less about manners and decorum.
Especially with how he struggled to delay his orgasm to enjoy this moment even longer. "Such gorgeous tits..." Elliot moaned against your chest, not wanting to part from your nipple for even a second.
Your face flushed at the compliment before a drawn-out moan left your lips when Elliot's hand went from your breast to your aching sex, his finger quickly finding your hard clit before he began to gently pet at it. Your hips bucked forward unconsciously, a shudder running up and down your spine as you moaned breathlessly at the light touching Elliot delivered onto you.
You were briefly snapped from your mind slowly losing its grip on reality when Elliot suddenly hissed, causing you to quickly realize you had gripped him too hard. "...S-Sorry..." You said. Before you could move your hand from his cock, Elliot's hand shot down to grab your wrist before he guided you back to his leaking dick, briefly parting from your breast, his eyes dark with lust. "I'm...fine." He said, having to inhale deeply between each word.
"Squeeze me again," Then, he immediately returned to your breast, lightly nipping at your nipple. When Elliot felt your hand began to squeeze his cock, gently rubbing him up and down, he bucked up into your hand as his mind wasted no time swarming with even dirtier thoughts of what he wanted to do to you. He desperately wanted to know what your tits would look like, how they would move when he fucked you, he wanted to mark them up, pinch and knead at them as if he were playing with a toy.
And he knows you'd let him do whatever he wants with you.
You were all too eager to shed your clothes and let him kneel before you before he all too quickly sucked and massaged your breasts, like a devotee worshipping their goddess— "F-Fuck..." Elliot whispered against you as he felt his orgasm creeping up on him. "Baby...please."
Your cunt clenched at his light begging as you then lightly smirked, your ministrations on him quickening much to the writer's delight. He grasped onto you tighter, holding onto you as if you were his lifeline and the only thing keeping him from descending into the depths of madness. Babbles of "pleasepleaseplease" and "I'm so close, don't stop" fell from his lips as easy as water would from a broken dam. You were so engrossed in his begging, you hadn't noticed he had came until he suddenly threw his head back to let out a loud unfiltered moan and warmth covered the top of your hand.
You looked at his twitching dick, his cum seeming to flow out from his tip endlessly until Elliot finally relaxed against you.
You couldn't let this be a one-time thing, and neither could he! You both were definitely going to keep in contact with one another.
Sebastian
Shockingly, I think he'd be the least horniest on this list.
Like yeah, he's not going to say no to groping and sucking a pair of huge tits but I'm standing firm on the hill that he's either an ass or thigh man.
However, when y'all had reached the stage where you two were dating and you eventually brought him over to your house?
As he watched you bounce up and down on his dick, the plapping noises alongside your tits moving in front of his face nearly made him cum on the spot.
To him? He felt like he had suddenly been placed right in the middle of a porno and the idea of marking up your tits was wayyyy too irresistible to him all of a sudden.
♡ - He felt like he was losing his mind by the passing second.
Drool dribbled from the side of his mouth, his bottom lip sucked into his mouth as he watched the arousing sight of you using him as if he were your own personal dildo, bouncing yourself up and down his cock. "Fuckfuckfuck...!" Sebastian whined as he gripped your thighs even tighter.
His moans and whines only fueled you to go faster before you fell forward a little, placing your hands on either side of Sebastian's head as you gripped the sheets and fucked yourself onto him even harder. "S-Shit...!" You cried out. "Sebby...your twitching so much," You breathlessly teased him, the rest of your words dying in your throat in the face of your boyfriend's dick practically sending you to an entirely different reality. But, while Sebastian's cock made you dumb in the skull...heart eyes nearly formed in Sebastian's gaze as his vision was locked onto the way your breasts moved up and down in front of his face.
Now, he didn't consider himself a boob man and was more into your thighs and ass.
However, he'd think something was wrong with him if his mouth didn't water at the sight of your tits moving in his face. Unmarked and practically begging for his mouth to latch onto them.
Which is exactly what he did.
"Fuuuckkk..." He groaned deeply, lifting his head ever so slightly to latch onto one of your nipples. As he begun to suck, he grunted when he felt you clench even tighter around his cock, nearly making him cum right then and there before pushing aside the feeling in the wake of wanting to enjoy your tits even longer as you fucked him. And especially how you looked at him as he did so. The darks of your pupils nearly took over the color of your eyes as you fucked yourself even harder onto him.
"So cute Seb~" You praised before you gasped when you felt his cock twitch inside you again.
You knew that he was weak to your praises, even in a more innocent setting, when you'd praise him for something so simple such as taking out the trash for you. He'd blush and turn his head away so cutely! But now? As he sucked and lightly bit on your nipples, his grip on your thighs tightening by the moment as he started to lose control and gently fuck up into you...the sheer pleasure of his cockhead touching the deepest parts inside of you, you knew that he deserved wayyyyy more praise for making you feel so good. "My tits are enough to make you like this?" You continued to speak, biting back your moans as much as you could to push out your words. "If I knew this, I would let you kiss and suck on them as much as you like Sebby—" Sebastian responded with a groan before it weakened into a whine, one of his eyes cracking open to look up at you as his pace quickened even more, the force of his thrusts punching out even more moans and whines out from your lips.
Your eyes threatened to roll to the back of your head. "Shit...!" You gasped. "Just like that...! Keep fucking me juusst like that~!" You moaned as you lost control in your arms a little, your tits squishing against Sebastian's face even more than they already were.
And that was enough to break the poor man as both of his hands suddenly wrapped around your torso while his feet dug into the bed, his hips suddenly pistoning up into you as he fucked you like he suddenly hated you. Tears of pleasure began to escape from the corner of your eyes as you felt the knot in the pit of your stomach begin to tighten almost painfully as you begged for your boyfriend to make you cum over his cock.
"S-Sebastian!" You cried out as you tits squished even more against him, your hands tangling themselves in his hair. With one last thrust and muffled moan, he suddenly stilled against you just as the knot inside you snapped, a sharp gushing sound splitting against Sebastian's abdomen and thighs as you both blanked out momentarily from your respective orgasms.
And when you started to come back down...you were the first to quickly lift yourself so you didn't accidentally smother your boyfriend. "S-Seb?" You stuttered, a combination of sudden embarrassment and still trying to come back from your orgasm. "I didn't mean to smother—"
He interrupted you with a shake of his head as his grip around your torso tightened once more. "Let's do that again."
Sam
I'm pretty sure all of y'all are familiar with how cartoon characters' eyes will bulge out when they someone they like, right? Yeah, Sam's eyes do that the moment he sees you for the first time.
One day, he was riding through town on his skateboard before he briefly heard Lewis mention the new farmer in town to someone! Sam had no clue what you looked like but he at least hoped you were friendly.
So imagine the way he absolutely eats dirt when he sees you for the first time.
Gorgeous and with a pair of tits that were nothing to scoff at? As he dusted the dirt from himself, he nearly cursed himself out for embarrassing himself in front of you without even getting a chance to say hello yet!
Luckily, you were laidback and friendly, only smiling briefly as you helped Sam up and introduced yourself in the process.
You were sooooo sweet. But god it was hard for Sam to keep his eyes on your face when faint droplets of sweat were rolling down your neck before disappearing into the valley of your breasts. It had him struggling to breathe and wishing that the pleasantries would end soon so he could go home.
All so he could fist his cock to a porn video of a woman that looked suspiciously like you
Until he gained the courage to speak to you again + got over the guilt of fucking his hand to the new farmer in town who had only arrived a few days ago. You were a star feature in every single daydream he had of you (which was nearly every day at this point) while he moaned out your name in his bedroom.
♡ - "Oh Yoba..."
Sam was currently in his room, all of his lights turned off and his phone at the lowest possible volume as he fisted his dick under the covers, all as his eyes were glued to the screen held in his hand. Earlier today, he had the pleasure of meeting a beautiful new face in town!
You.
You seemed so warm-hearted and friendly...and you were oh so pretty as well. But...what really caused Sam to be fucking his fist like some depraved pervert to the new farmer in town? Your huge tits, they alone were the reason he fell on his skateboard in front of you and made a complete ass of himself! Although you were kind and helpful to him (adding only more fuel to the fire of him suddenly lusting after you), as you bent down to help him up, your shirt revealing the tops of your breasts did nothing to help quell the boner that was suddenly raging in his pants.
Which is how he arrived at this very moment, looking at a porno of a woman whose breasts resembled your own all as she gave a boobjob to a dildo. The woman's face being covered only added to Sam's imagination as he could easily think of the woman being you and...instead of a dildo, it was his cock instead that you were slowly dragging your tits up and down on— "O-Oh fuck..." He cursed breathlessly, the bitten part of his shirt falling from his lips as Sam's breathless moans escaped from his lips.
His eyes began to burn with unshed tears of pleasure as he watched the woman's movement begin to speed up, his hands speeding up in order to quickly match the pace before the woman began to speak. 'She sounds nice...' Sam thought absentmindedly until his mind drifted back over to your face, coated in light pretty make-up with an accentuation to your lips.
He squeezed the head of his cock at the thought of your lips gently suckling his cockhead as you rubbed your soft tits up and down him, your half-lidded eyes looking up at him through your lashes while the faintest hint of a smirk could be seen. At another time, Sam would've felt mildly disgusted about what he was doing, he barely even knew you and yet he was pre-cum was leaking from his tip so much at the sheer idea of you treating his cock so well.
Sam's head sunk further into his pillow as he felt his orgasm quickly approaching, the hand that held his phone falling out of his hand before he began to massage his leaky tip. "Y/N...!" He panted even louder. Electricity felt like it was dancing throughout his body as his hips bucked up into his hand in search of more pleasure, the blonde's mind only filled with one single thing.
You, you, you, you, you.
How pretty you were and how gorgeous your tits were as you helped him stand back up. How friendly you were and how much he wished that his cock hadn't ruined the conversation the two of you were having, he desperately wanted to talk to you more...see where things went and— "S-Shit...!" Sam gasped, managing to give his cock a few more strokes before he felt strings of ropey cum hit his abdomen. As he gently fell back from Cloud 9, he released a breath he hadn't even known he was holding in before he relaxed.
Once he was free of his embarrassment of falling in front of you earlier today and masturbating to you despite barely even knowing you to begin with. He'd definitely work up the courage to speak to you more.
Harvey
Very respectful, very demure. He's not blind to the fact that you have huge tits but he's not going to go wild over them (to your face)
But when the time comes for you to have your yearly wellness check. I have a feeling that's his favorite time of the year as feeling up your tits to check for your lumps literally makes him ascend to the moon, only after making sure you were healthy of course!
But as soon as that check-up ends? Cue this man alerting Maru at the front desk that he's going to rest for a little in his room.
A quick masturbation sesh with you starring in it, all as he imagines playing and kneading your chest—he's never cum so fast.
But now he can't look at you without nearly turning into a tomato either.
♡ - A doctor should never do this.
It violated every rule in the book, even if you didn't know. He knew!
But, as Harvey currently sat on his bed, biting on his shirt like his life depended on it. His brain could only think of you and you alone, and how soft your tits felt in his hands. Like clouds almost, a regular procedure that he had done time and time again for many types of patients shouldn't have had his cock aching like this! But...you, you were different. Throughout the procedure, you had to have known what you were doing as you kept a steady eye on him as he moved the stethoscope over your chest to listen to your heartbeat.
While he stood in front of you nearly giving himself a nosebleed from how hard he was blushing, you looked at him with a soft smile without a single care in the world, as if you didn't know how you were affecting him!
And the second your wellness check was over...he was all too eager to rush back to his room, grab some lotion and tend to his leaky dick— "Miss Y/N..." He moaned to himself quietly, despite the situation and you not physically being here, he at least had enough decency left to refer to you in a respectful manner despite what he was doing. He tried not to let his thoughts sink into depravity too much, simply masturbating to the imagination of how your chest felt against him...and how much he wanted to see what they looked like without your shirt to cover them...and then if you would let him suck them— "S-Shit—!" He threw his head back suddenly to cry out before electricity suddenly sparked throughout his veins, a warmth suddenly coating his fist before he shakily looked down.
Harvey stared down at his cum-coated dick and fist in a daze for a long few minutes, he had never cum so quickly much less to the thought of someone who was essentially a complete stranger! Perhaps he was the one who actually needed the check-up...or, maybe it was best to stay away from you altogether...to avoid another bad situation like this.
Alex
The second least horniest on this list.
Not that he's not attracted to your huge personalities of course! It's just—everything about you is attractive to him. Your full figure and the mere sight of it was already enough to make him throb in his pants, your tits were just a nice added bonus.
Buutttt, when you two get to know each other and start becoming intimate, he's definitely not saying no to the possibility of straddling your torso and fucking your tits.
That night alone made him switch of to having a preference for tits ever since.
♡ - "You're sooooo dirty for letting me do this babe~"
It was a bit contradictory, he'd admit, Alex was the one who suddenly came up to you one day with the suggestion of fucking your tits! Although he was more of an ass man and was your number one fan of fucking up into you as you sat on his cock reverse cowgirl...when you'd face him, and watch how your tits would move up and down in a hypnotizing fashion—it was exactly how things got to where they were now.
Him straddling your torso as he pressed your boobs together around his girthy cock, your head turned down a little to lap at his cock each time it began to poke at your lips. The sight of you licking his tip as he fucked your tits made Alex's mouth water, the urge to cum stronger than ever but he was determined to hold back. He definitely didn't want this moment to end too soon. "Fuck..." He moaned as he leaned forward a little, bracing a hand just above your head as he began to grip the sheets as his pace sped up, your hands quickly pressing your breasts together to keep them squished around his leaky cock.
"Your boobs feel so good baby...we should do this every day, huh?"
You responded via suckling on his tip, the act alone making Alex whine as lewd plapping noises could quietly be heard from how hard he was fucking your chest, as if he were actually fucking your pussy. And his mind? He might as well have been! In this moment, the titjob you were giving him was just as addicting as the warm walls of your pussy. Each thrust was eager, every movement of his hips that brought his cock backward was followed by him rushing to thrust forward again as your soft lips were the reward.
But it was when you started to massage his cockhead with the palm of your hand that he really began to lose it. "F-Fuck—!" Alex cried out, his head dropping to dizzily look at the bedsheets as he tried to hold onto his sanity, hold onto his noises.
You definitely weren't going to have that. "Don't hold back your sounds Alex." Your voice just barely managed to reach Alex's ears over the sound of his rushing pulse in his ears and the sound of skin slapping against skin. Your request made his ears began to turn red and his cheeks burn, you were supposed to be the one who was noisy, not him! But...every attempt to refocus his brain and contain his sounds, turn them from whines into groans ended in pure failure as he couldn't deny how much he was enjoying your tits. "B-Baby..." He moaned. "Pleasepleaseplease....let me cum on your pretty tits..." He begged as his rhythm grew sloppier, pre-cum practically spilling every on your chest with how close he was to his orgasm.
The sound and sight of your boyfriend being so needy, begging you to cum when it was typically the other way around nearly made you cum untouched. You were absolutely loving this!
How could you ever think to say no?
"Cum on my tits babe," You moaned, replacing the palm of your hands with your mouth. The way the flat of your tongue lapped at his slit was all it took for the dam to break, Alex's abdomen flexing as he came, ropes of his hot cum flooding your mouth before it began to dribble out the sides of your lips when it became too much for you to drink down. Yet, when he was able to, when Alex slid himself away from the warm comforts of your chest to see what he had done to you...the trails of cum that dribbled out the sides of your mouth along with the leaky trail he left along your chest and stomach.
How you looked at him as if you wanted more.
He felt himself hardening almost immediately. "S-Sexy..." He stuttered, running a hand through his hair.
"Can...we do that again?"
Shane
Your very own personal tit massager
But I feel like he'd have his own little special place in the realm of big tit enjoyers (Though it'd be similar to Alex)
Everything about you is attractive to him, whether you have a fat ass, flat ass, big tits or small tits! Nothing could turn you off for him.
With this being said though—I genuinely believe that your tits are more so a way for him to further get you in the mood rather than him being obsessed over him. He likes your huge boobs, don't get me wrong but he'd slowly massage them while thigh-fucking you slowly. He wants you to get you in the mood, make you practically beg him to stop playing with your boobs and fuck you like a whore instead!
Fast and rough sex right from the start is all fun and all but—
He definitely enjoys the wait as well, hearing you all but scream for him to fuck you is enough to nearly make him cum on the spot.
♡ - "Shane...please." You begged sweetly into his ear as your boyfriend sat behind you, gently fucking your thighs while his head sat on your shoulder, looking over at the way he massaged your boobs.
And he did so with an intensely watchful eye. The weight and warmth of your tits made him harder and harder by the second. When Shane suggested fucking your thighs while he played with your tits, it was a...prelude of sorts, this wasn't enough to make him cum and even if it was, his cum was reserved for your mouth or pussy only. This foreplay was less about him and more so you, a way for him to listen to your needy moans and imagine how dirty they would become as you would soon scream for him once he speared you on his cock.
"Y' beg so cutely honey, almost makes me wanna fuck your gushing pussy next..." He whispered in your ear, his deep voice in combination with how he lightly bit the shell of your ear making you whine as you clenched around nothing. And the feeling of his cock lightly rubbing against your cunt, not enough to pleasure you but enough to let you know that it was there just out of reach from where you needed him the most.
It was enough to nearly drive you insane. "T-Then fuck my pussy..." You panted. "P-Please?"
You pouted cutely when Shane made a humming noise as if he were genuinely considering your request. "Nah." He smirked wickedly before he gently pinched your nipple, your grip on his forearms tightening at the action. "Let me enjoy these fat tits a lil' longer honey, along with these thighs..." He sped up his thrusts to accentuate his words, the increased speed of his thrusts doing a little more to just begin to rub against your hard clit but still...definitely not enough to make you cum.
"Shane, please."
He looked at you from the corner of his eye, his brow cocking upward lazily as if he were searching for something more. He was having so much fun playing with you as he was!
For ruining his fun so early on...he was going to make you work for the privilege of his dick fucking you stupid. "So impatient," With the way he clicked his tongue, you would've almost thought he were genuinely annoyed if you hadn't seen that ghost of a smirk begin to tickle the edges of his mouth. "Y' gotta beg me better than that for ruinin' my fun hon'."
Your cheeks burned even brighter, your face hiding in the crook of his neck in an attempt to briefly hide yourself away.
Yet, Shane didn't let it last long with how his thrusts all of a sudden slowed down and his hands stopped moving. "Well?"
You took your head from his neck, looking up at him with a teary expression. "P-Please..." You started.
His brow rose even higher, a silent warning of 'Not good enough'.
"Shane...please—!" You whined. "Fuck my aching pussy, I wanna cum on your cock...i-it hurts!" The dick had the nerve to hum again! The wait was making you ache even more than ever! But, just before you were about to smack his arm out of your own fit of annoyance, Shane suddenly parted your legs to begin rubbing fierce circles on your clit, the sudden pleasure making you throw your head back to let out a shrill moan.
"Fine, fine." He chuckled.
"I'll fuck this needy lil' pussy."
Bonus! Maru
I'm not going to lie, I only included Maru because corruption kinks go brrr.
So let's set the scene like this, Maru spots the farmer and immediately gains a crush on them. Your entire figure as well as how warm-hearted you appeared to be had the poor girl head-over-heels for you in a matter of minutes.
When you finally find a chance to talk to Maru, you immediately love how shy she appears to be around you and how she tries to make it not obvious that she's stealing glances at your tits.
Butttt there's a problem. Demetrius and him being overprotective of his daughter.
So the farmer plays the long game with Maru, flirting with her which turns into Maru being out later and later to spend more time with the farmer. Which then turns into her sneaking out late at night to go to the farmer's house.
And it doesn't take a genius to know what happened next once Maru and the farmer got to that stage.
The farmer coaxing Maru into multiple orgasms while she got to suck and massage the farmer's tits!
♡ - When you first came to this town, you had never thought that you would find someone as cute as Maru. When she had introduced herself to you, the way she tried to keep her eyes everywhere but your chest was amusing to say the least, enough to where you wanted to get to know her more! You wouldn't deny that you were a fan of shy girls.
But...you supposed that your least favorite thing about shy women was the potential they had for an overprotective father.
Which Maru had.
Demetrius.
But you were nothing if not patient, you flirted with Maru and talked to her as much as you could. You hardly said a word to her before she was the one who was talking to you until the wee hours of the morning, and you definitely didn't say anything when she started appearing at your house all of a sudden! All as she confessed that she snuck out just to talk to you a little bit longer!
You blushed at the bold confession but it both warmed your heart and worried you, you liked her but you neither wanted to get her into trouble much less have Demetrius coming to your doorstep asking where Maru was when she was a grown woman.
But...you supposed it was too late to be worried about such things now.
Especially as you and Maru were currently in bed together, Maru weakly kneading your tits adorably as her eyes glazed over with pleasure as you circled and played with her clit. "Feels good, huh?" You giggled, another fit of giggles leaving your lips when she nodded her head dumbly. "Cutie...you should use your words~" You then began to slow your fingers down, shocking Maru enough for her to stutter.
"F-Feels good...!" She said. "Don't...don't stop, please?"
Maru suddenly let out a gasp, followed by a soft moan as you quickly started circling her throbbing clit once more, her slick beginning to coat your thigh as she mindlessly started to grind herself against you all as she tried to pleasure you in return via lazily sucking on your tits. Your cunt clenched at the adorable sight, especially how she looked up at you through lidded eyes but tonight wasn't about you, you were intent on giving Maru her first real orgasm with your own fingers.
And...getting her to that point almost seemed too easy with the way she was beginning to squirm, causing you to wrap an arm around her to fasten her to yourself so she wasn't able to escape. "Y' close Maru~?" You whispered in her ear, her clit twitching in response. "Your practically soaking my thigh."
When Maru tried tucking her face in the valley between your breasts, you once again took your fingers away much to her disappointment. "Why—"
"Girls who hide don't get their cunts touched," You said teasingly but with a present firmness that made your lover nod her head before her moans once again began to leave her lips as you pinched her clit. Suddenly, her mind began to spin as the pace of your fingers started to speed up, the mind-numbing pleasure in combination with the brief stints of pain you'd deliver via suddenly pinching her clit creating a delicious concoction that practically made her scream.
Until her vision suddenly blanked, your eyes widening at the way Maru squirted on your thigh as a shrill moan let her throat. You whistled lowly at the arousing sight, your mouth watering as you all of a sudden wished that you could taste it.
But...as your partner's head fell onto your chest, her body heaving as she attempted to catch her breath. Once she was finished coming down from her high...you were determined to make her cum again, this time on your mouth.
#stardew valley#smut#sdv#stardew farmer#stardew valley harvey#stardew valley sebastian#stardew#stardew sebastian#stardew smut#stardew smut headcanons#sdv sebastian#sdv elliott#sdv elliot x reader#sdv elliot x farmer#sdv smut#stardew valley smut#sdv headcanons#sdv sam smut#sdv sam x reader#stardew valley fanfic#shane stardew valley#stardew valley elliott#stardew valley sam#stardew harvey#sdv harvey#harvey sdv#harvey stardew valley#sdv maru#sdv maru smut#maru sdv
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remy’s first smut, woo! saw this post and wrote this in a mad dash so, uhhhh, have some whiny, needy jason getting the blowjob he so dearly deserves. 18+ mdni or I will haunt you through your walls.
Jason Todd is a powerful man. He’s big; all 6’5” of him towers over damn near anyone in any room. He’s strong; 235 pounds of pure muscle and all the force that that weight can inflict. He’s skilled; body ready to be wielded with deadly precision. Jason Todd is a powerful man.
How powerful you must be to have made him weak.
He’s whimpering. The big, bad Red Hood is whimpering in your bed as you kiss bruises into his thick thighs. You lick the soft flesh after you bite it and feel the tremors that wrack his corded muscles. He’s panting wildly, chest heaving up and down with the effort it’s taking him to force air in and out of his lungs. You smile to yourself at how worked up he’s gotten from a few kisses to his inner thighs. You’d learned how sensitive he was there after patrol one night; he’d gotten a shallow cut after barreling through a window, the superficial wound paining him far worse than it should have. You felt bad at the time for thinking about all the wicked little ways you could use this new information against him—what a terrible partner, thinking about how to get your boyfriend off when he’s hurting.
But he’s not hurting now. Well, not in any way he doesn’t enjoy.
“Please, baby, please,” he begs, voice gravelly and desperate, “Need you so bad.”
You giggle, the sound muffled as you continue to leave hickeys along his thighs. You part yourself from his legs—and, oh, it truly is a struggle—and nuzzle your cheek against him through his boxers. He whines high and reedy, hips bucking up to grind against your face. You yank your head back, raise a questioning eyebrow at his boldness. He flushes red all the way down to his chest.
“Sorry, ‘m sorry, sweetheart,” he babbles as he forces his hips back down on the bed, “Want you so bad it hurts.”
And you can’t very well leave your sweet, strong boyfriend in pain, can you? No, after all the good he does, he deserves something nice. He lets out a noise that sounds suspiciously like a sob when you tell him as much before pulling his boxers down and closing your fist around his cock. You admire how your thumb and middle finger don’t even touch around the thickness of him. He whines at the stillness of your hand, thrusts his hips up to give himself the friction he so desperately needs.
You indulge him the pleasure of doing as he wishes. You indulge yourself the pleasure of watching his pretty green eyes roll back when you wrap your lips around his leaking tip. You revel in your own sick little joy as your jaw locks up, as your eyes burn and your gag reflex kicks when you take him down to his base. You think you may need mental help when you feel your slick drip down your thighs as tears track their way down his face, his whiny punched out ah ah ah’s echoing in the room. You don’t really care how deranged you may be when he cums down your throat, warm thick ropes that you swallow the second they hit your tongue.
Jason Todd is a powerful man. But the second he comes back down from heaven, you’re the one that has him on his knees.
#jason todd#jason todd x reader#jason todd x you#red hood x reader#red hood x you#jason todd smut#remy writes 🖋️
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NSFW
You are his first kiss, his first love, and well… his first everything. You knew that he was a virgin, just the way he reacted to your touch made that very clear, but you weren’t expecting him to cum from just a few heated kisses!
The second you felt him groan into your mouth and his hands clutch at your waist as his hips bucked, you knew he was cumming in his pants. Instead of frustrating you or turning you off, it made you feel… quite flattered. So flattered that you decided to gently rub at the bulge still present in his pants.
“Baby, you couldn’t wait just a little longer?”
He whined, his head burying itself into your neck. “C-couldn’t stop, too much…”
You smiled, quickly undoing his pants so you could wrap your hand around his needy cock. “Shh, shh… poor baby can’t even take a few kisses before making a mess… gonna take care of you, okay?”
And that’s when he learned the pleasure of handjobs. He was sure he came buckets that night, making an even bigger mess than what you started with. The feeling of your thumb brushing over his tip, wiping away the precum beading there was enough to make him shoot out a rope of thick cum instantly.
It didn’t help when you moved to sit in front of him, taking his cock into your mouth. He was so nervous, needing your permission to hold onto your hair and guide your mouth up and down the way he liked it. It wasn’t long until he was spilling down your throat, whimpering and moaning so loud you were sure the neighbors could hear.
And when you dropped your panties to the floor and hovered over his cock, the tip kissing your pretty cunt… he came before he could even get inside of you, painting your pussy white. It was endearing, how much your body and actions affected him.
You rode him, letting him fill you up with as much cum as he could. He couldn’t help rutting into you, his lips parted as he let out needy whimpers, begging to cum inside again. You allowed him every time, knowing that he now that he had experienced the warmth of your pussy, that there was no going back.
Eventually he was tuckered out, his thrust slow, still wanting to cum but way too sleepy to keep fucking into you. “Baby, shh… let’s rest, we can always go again tomorrow.”
And so you let his cock stay nestled inside of you as he suckled at your breast. Your boyfriend was quite spoiled, and now he was absolutely addicted to cumming inside of you. You didn’t mind though, because he was just too cute to resist.
———————
||NANAMI ||GOJO ||CHOSO ||ARMIN ||KURAPIKA ||LEORIO ||ILLUMI ||RENGOKU ||OBANAI ||SANEMI ||XIAO ||TIGHNARI ||KAVEH ||YOUR FAV
#nanami kento x reader#gojo x reader#choso x reader#kurapika x reader#leorio x reader#illumi x reader#rengoku x reader#obanai x reader#sanemi x reader#xiao x reader#tighnari x reader#kaveh x reader#genshin x reader#kny x reader#jjk x reader#anime x reader#reader insert#headcanon#hxh x reader#anime x chubby reader#chubby!reader#chubby reader#afab reader#fem!reader#fem reader#female reader#jjk imagines#genshin smut#genshin imagines#kny smut
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One Last Time
Ex-husband!Bang Chan x afab!Reader
✦ Genre: Soon to be exes to lovers [18+ MDNI] ✦ Summary: Petty claims of possession lead to one last night of pleasure.





✦ CW: Choking/ light breath play, pussy spanking [for a second], Unprotected sex [wrap it up party people], Size Kink [for a second], Oral (f rec.), Chan is... aggressive(??), Chan is referred to as Chris, He calls you a bitch once. only once. ✦A/N: Bang Chan made me do it. There's barely any plot in sight. I wrote this in 4 hrs in the middle of the night. Enjoy! + reader is depicted as chubby/plus size and is a POC ♡
✧ Masterlist ✧
It’s funny how things change. Day turns to night, hot to cold and love to pure seething hatred.
Okay, maybe that’s a bit dramatic but you swear that that’s all you can feel swarming in your chest as you sit across from your soon to be ex-husband.
He made a show of things at the settlement meeting this afternoon. He pushed back on every negotiation you made which has led you to where you are now. Each of you on your side of the bed with a pile of stuff littering the Egyptian cotton sheets that he just has to take with him.
“There. Are you happy now?” You throw the last item on top of his pile and Chris stares down at the item with that damned smirk that you used to love. “Almost.”
He stands from the mattress, dark eyes on something behind you. He grabs it before you can turn. “I bought you this purse.”
The muffled thud of his hard bottom shoes against the carpet is all that you hear before he turns the black designer bag upside down. The contents clatter against his shoes, items rolling in different directions as you watch with a clenched jaw.
He’s circling back to his side of the bed as you call upon the might of the gods to keep yourself calm. After being married for five years Chris has learned each and every one of your buttons and how hard he needs to press them just to tick you off.
You’ve decided not to give him the satisfaction of making a scene. That’ll only feed his ego. Besides, he has buttons of his own, some that you installed yourself.
“Now I’m happy.” He drops the bag into his pile, smiling before you like he’d just gotten away with a million bucks. “Yeah?”
Two can play that game. “I bought you that suit.” The smirk on blushed lips transfers to your painted ones as you stare over at him with arms crossed over your chest.
“I’d like it back.” With an innocent bat of your lashes Chris smiles. It’s gone just as fast as it came and it doesn’t reach his eyes. He's pissed.
“You’re fucking serious?” You hold your hand out to him. “Dead serious.”
Dark eyes are staring into darker ones as he holds your gaze. You’ve gotten used to him challenging you. You’ve gotten used to him being a petty asshole and you’ve learned how to play him at his own game.
You watch as he pops the button of his suit jacket. Tongue in cheek while his fingers work to free him of the fabric. His eyes stay on yours as he peels the smoky threads from his shoulders. He shimmy’s it down thick arms, pulling at the cuffs until he’s free of it. He’s left in a skimpy t-shirt before you and you take the liberty of letting your eyes wander.
“Want the pants too?” Chris throws the jacket over into your pile before his hands start to fiddle with the metal of his buckle. “Keep ‘em. They’re the nicest thing you own now.”
He mumbles something incoherent under his breath, his hand comes up to rake through his hair as his eyes wander the space you used to share. His gaze stops at your vanity, busy eyes study your open jewelry box then look back to you.
“I gave you those earrings.” He stalks towards the table, snatching the gold studs off of the surface and slipping them into his pocket. “And..”
The muffled thud of his shoes is all you can hear over the thick tension pulsing around you. It’s all that you can hear over your own enraged heartbeat. “This necklace.” The clasp is snapped from around your neck before you can breathe a protest. You gasp at the sudden pressure of your chain being ripped from you.
“What the fuck.” That smirk is stolen back when he slips the jewelry into his pocket. He stands in front of you, barely an inch between you as your chests rise and fall in unison. “You’re fucking ridiculous.”
“Me?” He fakes a pout, blinking over at you. “I didn’t do anything”
“Whatever, you got your stuff, get out.” You’re hissing at him, heart racing and blood bubbling with the annoyance you’ve been harboring for the length of this insufferable process. “I’m done with you.”
“Not so fast.” he says slowly, his hands finding your waist before you can step around him. You attempt to shrug off his grip and fail. “I bought you that too.”
His eyes trail from your eyes to your lips. His tongue darts out to lick over his own as he stares. “That lipstick.” His eyes find yours again.
“Fuck off, Chris.” There’s a bite to your tone that makes him smile. He’s always loved a challenge.
“I bought it.” He pulls you into him by your waist. Your body is flush with his and one of his hands quickly abandon the plush flesh to wrap around your neck. “ I wan’ it back. I think that’s fair.”
It’s dark on dark as he leans in, eyes searching each others frantically as Chris closes the gap and kisses you gently. It barely makes a sound, it’s feather light and quick.
“You want it back?” You whisper against his lips and he nods. “Then I want the pants.”
That fucking smirk pulls at his red stained lips and his mouth is on yours in an instant. It’s hot and messy, drowning out the previous softness. You grab at his arms, clawing down the flesh while his fingers dig into your hips.
He licks into your mouth with a desperate groan as you turn your heads left and right, his tongue explores your mouth as he takes in the taste of you one last time. Your arms wrap around his neck as one of his hands grab at the swell of your ass.
“Fuck.” He groans against you, stealing another kiss before you catch his bottom lip between your teeth. “Up.” With a firm smack on your ass you jump up and his hands find purchase on the curve of your bottom over your dress.
You fall into a mess of tugging and moaning. The tension you once felt in your chest melts into pleasure as his hands wander your bareskin. He drops you onto the mattress, pushing the sorted piles out of the way and hovering over you in your ripped dress as you lay sprawled out on the sheets before him.
“Gonna miss this.” Chris’ mouth is stained cherry red with your lipstick, it’s smeared over your cheeks and it compliments the bruises that he’s sucking into your skin. You bunch his shirt up his back, scratching along the way and leaving your own marks as you please.
“Shut up, eat my pussy.” You pull him back with a fist full of his hair, he hisses a moan through clenched teeth as his own hand finds it’s way around your throat again. He squeezes this time. It’s just enough to have your eyes flutter shut, just enough to get you right where he wants you.
“Can’t you be my good girl for one more night? Can’t you stop being a bitch for just a second, baby?” Chris leans down with a tighter squeeze. Your fingers wrap around his wrist, your nails digging into the flesh. “Did you already forget who the fuck I am?”
He loosens his grip giving you the satisfaction of that blissful rush before squeezing again. “Do you see how small you are?” He whispers, placing a kiss by your ear. “Do you feel how strong I am, baby? Don’t you know how this goes?”
A moan is all he gets as he pulls back to admire you. Your pretty mouth is parted with a silent moan as your thighs press together in a desperate attempt at cumming. “I should make you suck my cock.” His knee wedges between your legs and presses hard against your core.
“I should fuck this pretty throat. I should get you back for being such a fucking brat through all of this.” The hand that was around his wrist scratches up his arm as he lets up again, letting the blood rush and giving you the dizzy feeling he knows you love. “I should -”
Your fingers wrap around his neck before he can finish his thought. Fierce eyes stare up into his as your other hand moves to unbutton his pants. “Just gimme what’s mine.”
Your hand slips into the waistband of his underwear as you pull him closer to you. “Wan’ my cock?” He moans at the soft feeling of your fingers wrapping around the tip. Eye’s fluttering shut as he attempts to take a breath against your grip.
“‘S mine.” You lean up to his ear. “Isn’t it daddy?”
It was quick when he pinned you against the mattress. Both of your wrists were in his grip before he shifted them both to one hand to free his cock for you. “You’re a fucking tease. You’re so fucking predicatable, you know that?” He’s hissing as he fights with the fabric of his pants and your dress.
“You want a reaction outta me, huh? Wanna rile me up, sweetheart?” With a shift of hands and a grunt he’s turning the two of you over. You follow him with a gasp, straddling his waist and sitting over his cock with your clothed cunt. “C’mon I’ll let you. Use me, get what you want.”
Your resolve sinks as his cock twitches against your core. Chris is lying beneath you looking like a sin personified and you feel compelled to indulge in his offer. He is still your husband after all.
Your panties are pushed to the side in an instant. Chris’ wrists are pinned over his head while you grind your cunt over him. Sloppy sounds of you working over his leaking cock swirl in the hot air and Chris watches it all with drooping lids as you work against him. “Put it in, lemme watch it.”
You ignore him, slowing your grind to counter his request. “C’mon, baby, lemme feel you. I can make you feel so good. Let daddy fuck you, c’mon.” He watches you, head reeled back and moans dripping from your lips like drool as you do as you please.
“Fuckin’ tease.” He breaks free from your hold, hands wrapping around your waist and guiding the grind of your hips just as your clit catches on the head of his cock. “I asked nicely.”
His cock catches at your entrance as he controls you. The push of him against your pussy has your mouth open in a silent scream as he bullies his cock into you. “You keep forgetting who I am, hm?” He sits up, landing a firm smack to your ass to match his brutal thrust as you settle in his lap.
“Chris, shit, just fuck me. Fuck me.” Your nails are in his back, drawing lines that could surely draw blood. He hisses at the pain, smiling with a bite of his tongue as he fucks up into you.
His hips snap into yours, gradually picking up the pace until you’re falling apart against him. Chest to chest, you’re panting into each other. Littering the thick air with profanities as he splits you open on his dick. “Oh my fucking god, Chris. More. More more more, please. C’mon.”
“Take it.” He growls below you, allowing you to push him back against the mattress and ride his cock to your heart's content. “That’s it, take it. It’s yours, all yours.”
Your nails dig into his pecks, leaving marks on the flawless skin and you use him for leverage. The loud smack of skin against skin decorates the air accompanied by your moans.
“Don’t hold back, baby. Enjoy that fucking ride.” He thrusts up into you, meeting you halfway. “Let loose, just like that.”.
Chris is rambling under you, mumbling under his breath and growling praises when he fucks deep into you.
“Fuck me, fuck me harder. Wan’ it harder.” It’s dark on dark again. Hooded eyes stare into each other void of rage, the only priority is pleasure. You’re only here to take advantage.
“Wan’ me harder?” He fucks into you, moaning at the squeeze you give. “Wan’ me deeper?”
With a lift of his hips Chris flips you over. “Be good for me, yeah? One last time, be a good fucking girl and lay on your back for me. Lemme eat this pretty pussy.” He rips your dress down your frame with a grunt. Your panties get the same treatment before he’s falling to his knees before you.
“Gonna miss you on your knees.” You prop yourself up on your elbows, staring down at him behind a fucked out haze. “Lookin’ so pretty for me with a mouth full of my cunt.”
With a smirk Chris licks a wet stripe from your hole to your clit. He swirls his tongue around the bud, sucking it between red stained lips and flicking it. Your head drops back against the mattress with a loud moan. Your hands comb through and grab at his damp dark locks but he quickly repositions you to hold yourself open for him.
“Watch me eat it.” He reaches up, brushing your chin with his fingertips. He lays a flat wet lick to your pussy, hooded eyes staring up into yours. “Eyes on me. Eyes on daddy.”
He spreads your cunt with his fingers, holding you open for him while he spits down onto your clit. He collects it all on his tongue, licking it over the nub before spitting it back. Sloppy slurps against a drooling pussy is all that fills the room. “Daddy, please, wanna cum on your cock.”
He pulls back with a pop, spitting back down onto your cunt. He watches it drip down to your hole, following the stream with his fingers to press it into you.
“You wan’ me deep right?” His middle and pointer fuck you open as he coos. “Want me to spread this tiny cunt on my dick?” You’re moaning. Panting confirmations and whining pathetically into the air.
“Then hold it.” He kisses your clit, sucking it in then releasing. “Don’t cum.”
“Please.” You moan a plea, unraveling little by little with each suck and flick of your clit. His fingers fuck you open, curling into your soft spot and pushing you further towards the edge that you’re trying to avoid.
You could just cum. You could just take what he’s giving you instead of following the rules but it’s so good like this. He’s so good like this. You miss him giving you what you want.
“Chris, ‘m gonna cum for you. I can’t. Please jus’ gimme.” He blinks up at you with pussy drunk eyes as his kiss bitten lips move against you despite your begging. “Daddy, please. I wan’ your cock.”
"Don't cum for me yet" he speaks against your cunt before licking a wet kiss up to your clit.
"I can't, Chris. I can't, I can't, I'm gonna cum." Your eyes are glued to the way he licks up and down your swollen pussy. Taunting you with the skill he's gained over the years. He's pushing your buttons again.
"Daddy, daddy, daddy, please you have to let me. You’re gonna make me cum. Your mouth, your fucking mouth, please let me cum."
You're babbling, you know you are. You’re slipping through the cracks quickly and you can’t do a thing to stop it. There’s no going back and Chris knows it but he still smacks the inside of your thigh. Warning you to be good for him and let him build you up a bit more before you take his cock again.
"Don't." He kisses your clit. "Cum." He sucks the bud into his mouth and swirls his tongue over it with a moan. He's a madman if he thinks you could survive that.
"Fuck, 'm cumming. I'm cumming, 'm sorry." You’re shaking, your nails dig into your thighs as you keep yourself open for him. "Cumming, 'm cumming, I can't stop cumming, I can't stop cumming."
He moans into you as he laps up every drop of arousal that you're giving him. He commits your sweet taste to memory with one final swipe of his tongue before he’s kissing up your stomach.
His lips trail up the valley of your breasts. He licks over the mound, sucking your nipple into his mouth and swirling it with a hum. Once he’s satisfied he moves to your shoulder, kissing and licking his way over to your collarbone then finally his lips are back on yours.
You’re gasping as you tremble through your orgasm, aftershocks wash over you as you taste yourself on his tongue. Chris smirks, whispering against your lips. "No one else will make you feel this good, baby. No one else will make you cum like this.”
The head of his cock slips through your dripping folds, catching against your clit before he’s pushing in. “This is mine. All mine." He sinks in to the hilt then slowly drags his cock back against your walls.
“This is what I want.” He straightens up, looking down at your pretty face contorted in pleasure.
“All of that other shit doesn’t matter.” He moans, holding your thighs back to get a perfect view of you. “I wanna watch it. Wanna see the way my pussy opens up for me. ‘S mine, isn’t it, baby? Tell me this shit is mine.”
“Yours, it’s yours. Fuck, ‘s fucking yours, please, you’re gonna make me cum.” Chris slows his strokes, grinding deep into you and dipping his hips to hit the soft spot that turns you into putty for him.
You’re drooling at the feeling. Tears threaten to fall from the corners of tired eyes as you watch the way he admires your cunt. The corner of his bottom lip is tugged and held firm between his teeth as he fights back his moans so that he can hear yours clearer.
“Shit, You’re gonna make me cum. Gonna make me fucking cum, make daddy cum.” The precise snap of his hips grows sloppy as the seconds pass. His once slow grind is now erratic. He’s purely seeking pleasure, sinking deeper into the haze with every drag.
“Fuck, squeeze me. Yeah, just like that, that’s my girl. Pretty fucking girl on my cock.” Each thrust is met with a slap to your clit. You jolt at the contact, back arching off of the mattress. “Cum for me. Cum on my dick.”
With one more flick of your clit you're trembling beneath him. Your cunt sucks him in and he takes it all with a loud moan. Chris lets your legs fall so that he can hover over you. He holds himself up on his elbows as he kisses you through your climax. You moan into it, shaking with each thrust and twitch of his cock.
“Shit, that’s good. So good, baby, ‘m gonna cum.” The frantic bucking of his hips against yours comes to a halt as he falls apart.
Moans tumble forward as he does. His muscles tense and his eyes roll back as he drives himself deep into you, filling you with every drop of himself that he has to offer. Chris collapses on top of you, his weight pinning you in place.
You pant below him, coming down from your high as aftershocks wash over him. He kisses your neck, breathing heavily into your skin.
“Now.” He pulls back slightly, gaze catching yours. “Now I’m happy.”

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@liminalmemories21 and I wrote a little 8.15 - Lab Rats coda, buck/tommy.
Tommy hears Evan say, "Dad?" and just for a second he thinks that somehow, against all odds, it's Bobby standing there. He stands up so fast the chair tips over as he goes for the door.
The bubble of hope pops abruptly when Evan says, "What are you doing here?"
"Your sister called,” a voice he doesn't recognize says.
And well, fuck. There's just no way this ends well.
He rights the chair, squeezing the top slat, letting the wood bite into his hands. Evan was barely holding it together as it was, only really doing so by the skin of his teeth, by being the force of nature that he can be – focusing on his team, his family -- not on himself, or on. Or on Bobby. He asked me to, Evan told him through a sob, after, even as Tommy could see him try to push down the loss, to keep it off his face. Bobby did know his boy – worked best when given a direct plan of action.
Tommy scrunches his nose against the tears that threaten to fall again, to clog his throat. Wipes away the one that escapes and squares his shoulders to face whatever the fuck is happening in the doorway.
Wonders what on god's green earth Maddie had been thinking. Although, to be fair, he's going to go out on a limb and assume she didn't think their parents would get on a plane and fly to California to land just in time for the funeral.
Texts Chim / 🚨Phillip and Margaret are here🚨/
Gets a string of texts in response judging by the way his phone is buzzing in his back pocket, and he can't look at any of them because Evan and his parents have come around the corner and Even is saying awkwardly, "Mom, Dad, you remember Tommy." And then when neither one of them says anything, even more awkwardly, "You met him at Maddie's wedding."
Philip shakes his hand reluctantly, good WASP manners too ingrained to be actively rude enough not to.
Margaret looks at Evan. "I didn't realize you had company. Your sister didn't say."
Evan shrugs, doesn't answer. Doesn't explain.
Which, actually, Tommy wouldn't have minded a little bit of explanation, just so that he knows where he stands. Because he'd taken Evan home after the lab, after Bobby died. Nobody had questioned it. He hasn't left since. Evan hasn't asked him to, and he hasn't offered. Eddie's flight is due to land in an hour. He's not sure what happens after that. Although if Phillip and Margaret are here – for what? – having Eddie as back up might be for the best. That’s a devil he knows.
Tommy blinks and Evan is making coffee, and handing his mother a slice of coffee cake on a plate with a napkin - because given an awkward social situation, Evan, he learned the last time they tried this, will default to the polite rules of society to get through it. He doesn’t wonder where the coffee cake came from, because he'd discovered when he snooped around for breakfast ingredients that ill-fated morning that the only thing in Evan’s freezer is baked goods.
He takes the moment to check his texts, discovers that if Maddie had known their parents might show up that she hadn't told Chim. His / 😱 ‼️ / makes Tommy snort.
He checks to see if anyone needs him for anything, and then texts Eddie. As far as he knows Eddie's still pissed at him for breaking up with Evan, doesn't know if Evan told him about the hook up the other week, or the way that he'd said he was jealous of Eddie, can't imagine that's improved Eddie's opinion of him if he did. But – man deserves to be warned about the clusterfuck he's about to walk into.
/ Phillip and Margaret are here /
gets / 👀/ from Eddie, and then / why? / and then / like this day could get any fucking worse /
He’d only met them the once, in passing, nearly a year ago now, but he’s heard about them plenty - from Chim, from Eddie, and haltingly from Evan. He’s pretty sure he doesn’t have the full story of whatever it is, but he knows enough to know that adding them to the mix is not going to help Evan get through this day. He’d never really worried about it before, because he’d met Athena, Bobby – the important people.
He comes back into the kitchen to hear Evan saying, “You should go to Maddie’s, I’m sure she needs the help.”
And Evan’s mother waves a hand, saying, “We talked to her yesterday, she’s fine.” And then leaning in to put a hand on Evan’s arm, and he can see from across the room how surprised Evan is by that, and how much he doesn’t know what to do with it. Adds another mental note to the list of things he knows about the Buckley parents.
Thinks Margaret kind of missed Evan’s point. Maddie may be fine, but Chim’s not. Might be nice if her mother volunteered to give Maddie some extra space to support her husband, since she flew all the way here. He’s still not sure why the Buckley parents are here.
They don’t really have time to dig into it; they have a funeral to get to.
****************
The funeral is awful. Everyone in their dress uniforms. The pomp. The circumstance. The weight of the loss literally on their shoulders. Staring at the back of Chim’s head, having to put one foot in front of the other, maintaining composure when all he wants is to hold Evan and shield him from everyone and everything. Instead, on a city street -- a funeral march. Step. Step. Step.
The only time he and Evan have been in sync since they split six months ago and it’s to bear the burden of the first man to ever really give them a shot. To believe in them.
The brass gives a speech. Athena had asked Evan if he wanted to speak, and he’d shaken his head. “I can’t.”
He agrees. Has a fierce need to let Evan keep his grief private, not for public consumption.
After the funeral he hears Evan say, "We're going to Bobby and Athena's," and his heart fucking breaks at the way Evan's voice cracks halfway through Bobby's name. But then he's continuing, "for the wake." He hesitates. "Do you want me to call you an uber, or something?"
"Oh," Margaret says, and she sounds clearly surprised. "We thought we'd go with you."
It startles Evan into honesty. "Why?"
"To pay our respects. He was your captain. I know he meant a lot to you." Which is nice, until she adds, "That's what people do, Evan."
The way she says his name grates on Tommy's last nerve. He wants to say, 'no, people don't fly across the country to crash a funeral. People write a nice card. People know when to stay in their lane'. Almost says it, when Evan looks at him. But, whatever is going on between them, shutting Evan’s parents down probably isn’t his place. Is tempted to look around for Eddie, who might be able to get away with it.
Margaret looks torn, and Maddie – bless her – says, "I'm sure Jee’d like a last bit of one-on-one time with her grandma before the new baby comes."
"I thought Mrs. Lee was watching Jee this afternoon," Margaret says, proving that she is in fact totally incapable of reading a room. Even Phillip looks a little abashed.
He loses track of Philip and Margaret for a while at the wake. More people than he expected come up to offer him their condolences, like he has a right to grieve Bobby as much as Eddie, and Hen, and Chim, and Evan.
Finds them again when he hears Margaret asking Evan if he’s ready to leave. Like she expects her claim on his time to supercede anything else. LIke Bobby’s fucking funeral.
Turns in time to catch Evan’s absolutely blank look. “I’m staying.”
Margaret looks taken aback. “Oh, well, should we meet you for dinner somewhere?”
Evan shakes his head, looks impatient for the first time. “No.” For a second Tommy thinks he’s going to leave it at that, and wants to applaud, but Evan seems to realize how blunt that is, or maybe the look of disapproval on Philip’s face clues him in. Either way he says, “I’m going to stay, help clean up after everyone leaves.”
Margaret’s face tightens, and he wants to shake her, ask what she thought was going to happen here. They’d flown out for the funeral, so on some level they understand how important Bobby had been to Evan. Just not apparently on any kind of level that lets them empathize with his grief.
He doesn’t know where they go, but he does see Margaret and Phillip leave, stopping to talk to Athena before they do. Has no idea what they say to her, but she looks faintly surprised by it.
Margaret and Phillip are at Evan’s new house, Eddie’s old house, when they finally all get home. They’ve made dinner. Like any of them have an appetite, like they hadn’t just put away a semi-truck load of leftovers from the wake -- everyone tries to feed grief, like if you fill up on food, the sadness won’t have anywhere to go.
Reins it in. They made dinner. That was kind of them. One less thing for Evan and Eddie to have to think about. He eyes the casserole that Margeret puts on the table. It’s bland, but inoffensive. Suspects that Evan could make it better. Catches Eddie’s eye and has to stifle a snort when it is very clear that Eddie is thinking the same thing. Whatever grievances Eddie has with him – and Tommy’s prepared to admit they’re mostly merited – they’re on hold for however long Evan’s parents are here.
Dinner conversation starts with polite anodyne conversation about the funeral, how big the turnout was, how nice everyone was at the wake.
It moves on to Phillip saying, “The house is – different. We didn’t know you’d moved.”
Evan picks at his food and just says, “It wasn’t that long ago.”
Eddie takes the fall. “I moved back to Texas. Evan took over my lease.”
Philip nods. “Maddie hadn’t mentioned that.”
That brings Evan’s head up a little, “Oh, um, yeah.” Then he frowns a little. “Why would she?”
Margaret gives a brittle laugh. “Well, it’s not as if you tell us anything. If we didn’t talk to Maddie we wouldn’t know anything at all about your life.”
Tommy bites back the urge to suggest that maybe there’s something they could infer from that.
Margaret looks at where Evan’s plate is still more than half full. “You’re not eating.” Evan looks at his plate. “Sorry. I’m not very hungry.”
Margaret’s lips purse, and he silently dares her to say something. She doesn’t. Looks around the living room instead. “I like this. It’s much more grown up than your old apartment.”
Tommy winces and concentrates on his food.
Evan’s eyes flick around. “Yeah. I guess.”
Her lips purse again. “Evan, we’re trying.”
Evan looks blank. Eddie sends Tommy an alarmed look and mouths ‘oh shit’ at him.
Philip clears his throat. “We came all this way. Your mother made you dinner. I know you don’t call. But, is it too much to ask that you talk to us when we’re here?”
“I didn’t ask you to come,” Evan mutters. And Tommy would bet a lot that he doesn’t realize he’d said that out loud, knows from experience that when you back Evan into a corner he lashes out. Wonders how on earth Evan’s parents don’t seem to know this.
Margaret’s face is a perfect picture of frozen devastation, and he’d feel sorry for her if she wasn’t making Evan’s loss all about her. Wasn’t making a bad day exponentially worse.
There’s a knock on the door, and they all look around — doesn’t know who it could be, they’re all here.
Evan gets up to answer it, Tommy sips his wine to have something to do with his hands. Eddie twirls his fork mindlessly in the mess of noodles on this plate.
“May?” He hears and then, “are you okay? Is Athena— I can grab my coat—“
“No, no, we’re—“ something garbled, and then “not fine but –” A pause and then “I talked to Mom and we wanted you to have this.” There’s the sound of Evan taking a stumbling step back into the wall.
“I can’t, May, that’s for family, that’s for Athena — for you, for—“ and Tommy can’t bear to hear his voice breaking, cracking, gets up and leans into the hallway to see Evan clutching a flag.
Bobby’s flag.
“It is for family,” May’s voice is steady, despite the tears running down her face. “Mom said she had their house. His medals. She had what she needed and she wanted you—“ May gulps. “He would have wanted his son to have this.”
Behind him, Tommy hears two chairs being pushed back and whips around.
“You need to go,” he hears himself saying before he even realizes he’s going to. He hadn’t said anything earlier, wasn’t sure if it was his place, but he wants to try and preempt whatever they’re going to say now.
“Evan,” Margaret says, warning and entreaty, looking over Tommy’s shoulder. He feels Evan behind him, turns slightly and can see May standing awkwardly, shifting her feet like she’s not sure she should be seeing this. He understands; isn’t sure he wants to witness this either.
Evan just shakes his head. “Tommy’s right.”
Phillip stands up, arm around his wife’s waist, staring at Tommy. “He’s here. He’s not family. Maddie said you broke up.” Pauses and then digs the knife in. “She said he broke up with you. That you were devastated.”
And Evan looks at him like it's the first time he's really registered that Tommy's still there, that he hasn't left. And Tommy holds his breath, waiting to see what Evan will say, if he'll finally ask him to leave.
Instead he says, "He's here because he always shows up when I need him, and because he's willing to keep trying even when we both fuck it up."
The ‘unlike you’ goes unsaid. But, Tommy's pretty sure people from three counties over heard it loud and clear.
Evan’s on a roll now, all the things he’s been holding back all day coming out now that the dam’s been broken. “He tried to save Bobby twice, risked his life for Bobby. Risked jail for him. And you? You didn’t even — “ he chokes up.
“Funerals are for everyone else. Wakes are for family,” May says unexpectedly. “Evan was Bobby’s son. He gets to decide whoever else he wants to have here.” She holds Evan’s gaze when he looks at her, and after a moment he nods. Reaches out for Tommy’s hand, holding it hard.
“I buried my-, my father today. I’d like you to leave.” Margaret and Phillip are frozen by the dining room table. Evan unbends enough to say. “I’ll call you before you fly home.”
May looks cooly at Margaret and Phillip, every inch Athena’s daughter. “I have an uber outside, we can drop you wherever.”
Later, in bed, he’s curled around Evan. “He was supposed to be here,” barely aloud, just a whisper of a breath. “He was going to stand up for me, tie my tie and—“ Evan’s voice breaks and he lets out a single, wracking sob, his back shaking.
“He taught you,” he says to Evan, to himself. “He taught you what you need to know. To do. To be who you are.”
“I never told him,” Evan chokes out, “that I loved him, that he was my—“
“He knew,” Tommy whispers into his shoulder blades. “He knew.”
“He told me he didn’t have to worry.” Evan rolls over and pins him with a stare, the light of the moon just reflecting off the white of his eyes. “That you were good people. Don’t make him a liar.” Tommy swallows hard, holds his gaze as much as he wants to look down, away, anywhere but at Evan, tear-stained cheeks shimmering in the blue light. “He was a lot of things, but never a liar.”
“I won’t.” It breaks out of him, cracks open his chest and crawls out, like the baby in Alien, leaves him bleeding and open - would give everything to make the lie true.
“You did,” and there it is, Tommy wishes he could take it back, could live up to Bobby’s estimation of him. He wants to be that man. For Bobby. For Evan.
He can’t lie again, “I did.” Looks between them. “I won’t again.” Evan’s lashes shadow his cheeks, like he doesn’t want to look to see if Tommy is lying. He brushes tear off of Evan’s cheek, admits, “I’m really bad at it. Leaving you. I can’t — I can’t stay away. Not if you don’t want me to.”
“I don’t,” Evan says finally. “I never did.”
“Okay. Then I won’t.” It’s a promise to Evan. To Bobby. To himself.
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Cookies
summary: you and buck bake cookies at 3am.
word count: 1.8k
a/n: hey... how y'all doing... i am finally making my comeback!! if you missed my post from yesterday (i answered a bunch of asks so now it's pretty far down there), i'm gonna be posting again, but probably less regularly. i've been stressing myself out i think by feeling the need to post a fic every 2/3 days, otherwise i feel like shit, so i'm trying to get away from that mindset, so i hope that less fics are okay!! i love and appreciate you guys so much!! anyway, enjoy<33
warnings: none, purely fluff, no use of y/n, fem!reader, plus size!reader, race inclusive!reader
The light from the fridge casts a light across Buck’s face, harshly contrasting the dim light coming from the television as he opens the door to grab the ingredients he needs.
“The butter needs to be room temperature,” he tells you sadly, glancing in your direction as he places the eggs and butter on the kitchen island. Your legs are dangling off the counter as you watch his every move, the cool counter pressing against the backs of your thighs in a way that makes you shiver in your sleepy state.
It’s late; 2:30am the last time you checked, and you and Buck had the silly idea to pull an all-nighter, since you both have a few days off of work. Just like you used to do with your friends when you were kids.
“I’m sure they’ll be just as good. And, a lot better than store bought cookie dough,” you tell him with a soft laugh, rolling your eyes.
Honestly, you’re just glad Buck has agreed to bake cookies for you this late. While you were watching a movie, the main character was making cookies, and suddenly you needed chocolate chip cookies. Like, immediately.
"Definitely better,” he says with a smirk, giving you a wink before pulling out the rest of the ingredients from the cupboards.
He helped you onto the counter before he began his work, telling you that he wanted to make them for you, and that all he needed from you was to sit there, look pretty, and keep him company. And with a face like that, how could you say no?
You watch as he measures out his dry ingredients, then mixes everything together, but he pauses every so often to give you gentle kisses, the ends of his curly hair tickling your forehead each time. When his hands aren’t somehow all sticky from the dough – you quickly learned how messy of a baker he was when you first started dating – he’d place a hand on your thigh, taking comfort in the warmth of your skin and the fact that he could feel the goosebumps under his palm. He always knows that you’re sleepy because you get cold, and your skin erupts in goosebumps.
“What do you think you’d be doing right now if we never met?” you ask quietly after a few moments of silence. He looks up at you from his bowl with furrowed brows, tilting his head to the side.
“Is this the beginning of a breakup conversation?” he replies in a slightly teasing tone, although you can practically see the gears turning in his head as he studies your expression, and your body language, and your eyes.
Your eyes soften, and you immediately shake your head, giving him a reassuring smile as you hold your hand out. He reaches out for it, not letting it hang in the air for longer than a second or two, and lets you pull him forward until his body is positioned right between your legs, although with his hands all doughy, he opts to place his wrist under your palm.
“Baby, I have absolutely no intention of breaking up with you anytime soon. I was just thinking. How different would our lives be if we never met?” you say as you wrap your arms around his shoulders, letting your hands dangle behind his head as his lay on the counter on either side of you, making sure not to get your pajamas dirty from the dough covering his hands.
“They’d be very different. I’d be fast asleep right now, that’s for sure,” he teases with a cheeky smile. You laugh softly, rolling your eyes. It may have been your idea to pull an all-nighter, but he happily agreed that it would be fun. You didn’t even have to try to convince him.
“I’m serious,” you say with a laugh, leaning forward slightly, “I don’t know what I’d do if I never met you.” Your voice is softer now, a hint of vulnerability creeping in. You met Buck purely by chance, and you still think it’s a miracle that he took interest in you, despite him thinking the exact same thing about you.
“I’d be looking for you,” he says after a moment, shrugging as if it’s that simple. And to him, it is.
Your eyes soften, and your head tilts to the side as your throat suddenly gets tight with your growing emotions.
“For me?” you ask in a teasing, yet slightly disbelieving tone, and he shrugs again with a nod. There’s no hint of uncertainty in his eyes.
“I’d be looking for someone who makes me happy, and who knows what I need without me even having to think to ask, and who is so beautiful that I can’t even believe that they’re with me. So, yeah, you.” You smile, feeling your face heat up. You can practically feel the love radiating from the deepest part of him and into your chest, and while your entire body suddenly feels warm, your cheeks feel like they’re on fire. Suddenly, you’re not so tired anymore.
“I’d be looking for you, too,” you reply, feeling tears prick your eyes as you lean forward and let your forehead rest against his. Buck has to keep a sliver of his mind occupied on not putting his hands on you, no matter how much he wants to feel your soft skin under his fingers. He wishes he washed his hands before coming over to you, but he wouldn’t have dared to let your hand stay raised in the air longer than a split second, just like he wouldn’t dare to part from you right now.
“Yeah?” he whispers, breathing in the faint scent of your body wash now that he’s so close. He wants to touch you so bad, and his self-restraint is wearing thin.
“Mhm. Except maybe without the snoring. I’ve never heard anyone that sleeps so loud.” You match his tone, letting out a soft laugh as he suddenly pulls his face back with a scoff, his brow raised and a smirk growing on his lips.
“Really? Because I seem to remember getting a text a few days ago saying that someone thought it was too quiet to sleep while I was at work,” he challenges, his eyes moving down to your lips for a second before moving back up to meet your gaze, the smug smirk still plastered to his face as you fight back a smile.
“I sent that in a moment of weakness,” you argue quietly, pursing your lips to stop the grin from making its way onto your face.
“Hey, come on, don’t pretend you don’t love it,” he continues, his hands now raised off of the counter and hanging in the air. They’re dangerously close to your waist; if he could touch you, he’d be tempted to tickle your sides to see that gorgeous smile grace your face, but he holds back. Instead, they just remain frozen, almost able to feel the warmth radiating from your soft body.
“I plead the fifth,” you tell him, reaching down and grabbing his wrists. You saw them out of the corner of your eye, full of dough and dangerously close to your pajama top, and the last thing you want to do is go upstairs and change.
You hold his wrists out between your bodies, and all Buck does is chuckle, rolling his eyes and murmuring a soft “brat” before leaning in and catching your lips in an intoxicating kiss.
In the heat of the moment, you let go of Buck’s wrists, instead grabbing onto his hoodie and pulling him closer to you while your legs wrap around his waist, and he lets his hands go up to your cheeks. Neither of you notice at first, despite the sweet smell of brown sugar filling your nostrils, and he deepens the kiss, letting his lips work in tandem with yours as he savours the feel and taste of your mouth on his.
Your noses brush against each other as you tilt your heads, and a low hum escapes Buck’s throat as his tongue meets yours when you part your lips. All you can focus on is each other as the oven beeps behind you, signalling that it’s time to put your cookies in, and Buck’s stubble scratches your face in a way that makes your head spin. You’re pretty sure the fire alarm could go off right now, and you still wouldn’t part from him.
You finally have to pull away to catch your breath, and when you do, you finally notice that your cheeks are now sticky. You giggle softly, and you can’t bring yourself to be upset with Buck about it. Not when he just kissed you like his life depended on it.
“Finish my cookies, Buckley,” you whisper after a moment of looking into each other's eyes, and then he finally pulls away from you, immediately missing the feeling of your thick thighs wrapped around him.
“Yes ma’am,” he murmurs, then dumps the chocolate chips into the mixture before mixing, humming in approval when they’re fully combined.
You take this time to wash the dough off your skin; not bothering to go upstairs to actually wash your face, rather merely using a wet paper towel over the sink to wipe off the residue. You know you’ll regret it later, but right now, you wouldn’t dream of being that far away from Buck. Not when the soft light from the tv mixes with the overhead oven light, and the soft sound coming from the credits of the movie envelopes the main floor of Buck’s loft and makes you feel so safe and calm.
When the cookies are in the oven, Buck helps raise you back up onto your spot on the counter, then makes himself at home between your legs, wrapping his arms around your plush middle and resting his head comfortably on your shoulder. You wrap your arms around his shoulders immediately, letting him melt into you as you wait for the timer. The steady feeling of his breath on your skin makes you feel even more at ease, if at all possible.
You don’t talk for those 10 minutes; you just bask in each other's presence. It’s past 3am now, you’re sure of it, but neither of you care. All you care about is how good it feels to be in Buck’s arms, and to know that you’ve found someone to bake cookies with in the middle of the night, just because you felt like it. Someone to bake cookies for you despite being so tired. Just because he loves you so deeply.
notes: likes/comments/reblogs would be much appreciated if you liked this<33
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do u have any like nsfw hcs about walker too 😪 your bob stuff is great and primarily what im here for but now im thinking
he fucks like someone trying to win a medal for it.
like everything he’s doing—every thrust, every grip of your hip, every filthy word spat through clenched teeth—is another performance. another mission. and underneath it? there’s a hunger he doesn’t know what to do with.
you notice it early on.
how touch-starved he is without even realizing. how he jolts—visibly—when you first run your hand over his lower stomach, just under the edge of the suit. how he always seems to be bracing for disappointment before you even open your mouth.
and then you praise him.
“you’re doing so good for me, john.”
that is when he breaks. because that’s the kink he’s never been able to admit to—not even to himself.
being told he’s good. being enough. being held down or ridden hard or fed praise like water in a desert. that kind of tenderness short-circuits him. it cuts deeper than the rough stuff ever could.
he doesn’t start off submissive—not in the traditional sense. he’s used to being in control, to leading with physical dominance.
he’ll pin you fast, growl commands in your ear, fuck you face-down on the bed like he’s trying to pound all the doubt out of himself.
and god, is he strong.
the serum didn’t just heighten his strength. it amplified everything—libido included.
he gets hard constantly. it’s frustrating to him, how often he’s thinking about you. the way your thighs look when you’re relaxed. the little gasps you make when he brushes his hand too low. the smell of you when you sweat.
he’ll get half-hard just from hearing your voice over comms.
by the time he gets his hands on you, it’s like something inside him’s been uncaged.
but once you learn what makes him tick?
once you figure out how to press your mouth to his ear and say things like—
“my handsome soldier.”
“you’re so good when you listen.”
“let me take care of you, john.”
—he melts.
he can go from snarling dominance to needy, stuttering mess if you ride the edge of his control the right way.
like, he’ll try to stay in control.
he’ll growl that he’s not going to come yet.
he’ll promise he’s in charge—
and then you moan, call him a good boy, and suddenly he’s gasping out, “fuck, baby—please—,” hips bucking like he’s never been fucked before.
and don’t even get him started on oral.
he’ll fist the sheets, groaning with your mouth around him. he can’t decide if he wants to shove your head down or beg you not to stop.
he doesn’t always say it, but he needs to be wanted.
he gets off on your hunger for him.
some nights, he’s the one guiding you by the hips, whispering how much he missed your pussy, how tight you are, how he wants to fill you up till you’re leaking down your thighs.
other nights, he’s sitting back against the headboard, wide-eyed and flushed, letting you straddle him and fuck yourself on his cock like he’s yours.
and that serum-high libido?
it makes him insatiable.
multiple rounds. sometimes he doesn’t even need recovery time.
he’ll be half-hard again just watching his cum drip out of you.
he’ll pant against your chest, still inside you, voice hoarse as he mutters, “one more. just… just one more.”
he has a thing for being teased, too.
edging.
you cupping him through his pants, dragging it out until he’s growling through gritted teeth, fucking into your hand like he’s about to lose it.
he hates it—until you say:
“that’s it, john. just like that. you’re doing so good for me.”
he’s coming in your palm like a virgin, flushed pink to the tips of his ears, thighs twitching under your grip.
he tries to act like it’s just stress relief. just a way to blow off steam.
but the second your hand goes to his hair, your voice softens, your mouth brushes his ear—
he’s begging, not with words. but with his body.
with the way his hips buck up. with the way he follows your every touch like it’s orders.
heavy, heavy breeding kink as well. he's so mean with it too, pinning you down and using you.
and he always—always—asks afterward:
“was that good?”
even when he’s just left you a mess of slick and bite marks and come. he still needs to hear it. needs you to tell him he’s good. because he is.
but he won’t believe it until it’s coming from your mouth—voice raw, eyes half-lidded, wrecked and whispering it into the curve of his neck.
#.ᐟ.ᐟ#switch walker is CANNON#john walker#john walker smut#john walker x reader#i used to be the biggest walker hater#⤷ john walker
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have i found you?
pairing: bucky barnes x reader
summary: you and bucky are in the beginning stages of your relationship and get caught in a rainstorm
word count: 2.1K
The early stages of dating were always the most nerve wracking, and for Bucky who hadn’t done any ounce of it in the last 80 years, it’s even more so. When you came into his life it felt like something had finally clicked into place again, like the world got a bit brighter, the fog that was there was starting to lift.
Now the problem he was having was translating those feelings into words. Sure, you understood that he was more of a shower not a teller, but Bucky wanted to push those boundaries for you. His therapist told him that part of growing is doing things that would make him uncomfortable; he never wanted to switch therapists faster in his life.
But, he knew she was right.
You and Bucky had decided to take things slow, even if there was no formal conversation stating that, both of you knew that it would be better in the long run to not rush into anything. You didn’t need him to open up about his past to get the idea of what had happened, you knew of his time as the Winter Soldier, there was no need to go into details so early on.
So most of your nights together were spent learning the song and dance of this new relationship, or whatever this was.
Despite his quiet nature, Bucky was anything but a homebody. Sitting still didn’t mix well with the instinct to always be on the run, and being alone meant that the thoughts that flooded his brain couldn’t be tuned out. No, Bucky needed some background noise, not overstimulating, but the chatter of the people or the sound of cars passing by him to drown out the thoughts as best he could. For those reasons alone, he tried to take you out as much as possible.
Your favorite thing to do together was to walk over the bridge from Manhattan and into Brooklyn, despite being terrified of how high up you were, Bucky couldn’t imagine a better way to spend time together. It was intimate yet you were still surrounded by people. The views were stunning, and it always gave him an excuse to stop by his old neighborhood. Even if so much had changed in the decades since he had lived there, he loved the warm fuzzy feeling in his chest when he got to show you his home.
“It must be hard to come back,” you said to him one night as the two of you finished crossing the bridge, making the turn toward Bucky’s old building.
His free hand was intertwined with yours, keeping you close to his side, as his metal one came up to rub at the back of his neck. You had a habit of seeing right through him.
“It can be,” he says, honestly. “Everyone I know has passed away, and Steve doesn’t like to visit here anymore, so it can be a little lonely.”
He doesn’t mention that you being there with him makes it feel less terrifying. His heart doesn’t sink as low as it used to, he doesn’t get choked up thinking of all he’s lost. No, instead he just squeezes your hand, needing to know that you’re right there next to him.
Neither of you say anything when you pass his home, his expression is somber as he watches the family that lives there now in the window. It was different, new. He didn’t hate it, how could he hate such happiness? But sometimes he felt envious of the people who were able to continue on with their lives.
“I used to sit on that stoop and wait for Steve to come over,” he said as the two of you started walking again. “I used to tell him that I’d just go to his place because he had asthma, the kid couldn’t run for shit.” Bucky smirked as he thought back on the memory. “But he’d always tell me Buck, I’ll be at your house. 3pm sharp. Not a second later . He’d be wheezing his ass off but he was never late.”
The two of you laugh together at the thought, Steve was once such a fragile being compared to how you knew him. That was the Steve who was a brother to Bucky.
Bucky didn’t know how to explain that he hasn’t felt happiness since then, it was starting to get a little easier to smile and enjoy his life; but true happiness? Jeez, he can’t even remember.
“You two seemed like you probably got into a lot of trouble.” You teased, elbowing him in the ribs playfully.
“Yeah, we did. Steve really was just along for the ride, I was usually the one up to something.” There’s a smirk on his face that he can’t seem to wipe off as the two of you walk, turning onto the block of where his new apartment was. “One time I managed to get the fire hydrant opened when it was the middle of July, they wouldn't come to open the one on our block for some reason. Flooded the whole street within seconds.” He chuckled, shaking his head at the memory. “Steve tried to take the blame, as if anyone would believe that.”
“I bet you guys didn’t care if it was flooded.”
“Not even a bit. I’d never been to a beach before so this was the only water I was around, we’d get a bunch of kids on the block, run around like it was the best damn time of our lives.”
It hits you square in the chest how much had been taken from him over this lifetime, and it was this moment where you made a promise to yourself that wherever this went between the two of you - you’d never let him look back and regret it.
“Hope that wasn’t too sentimental for you.” Bucky teased as his eyes trained over to you.
“No, no,” you reassure him with a smile when you meet his gaze. “I could listen to those stories all day. I like seeing how happy they make you.”
His chest bloomed with his feelings for you, it was moments like this where his tongue felt heavy in his mouth because he wanted to just spill his guts out to you and tell you everything on his mind. But, he still felt so lost.
As the two of you get closer to his building, you notice the once blue sky starting to turn a dark grey - not the same kind as when the sunset, but when the heavens felt like they were going to open up. The air had shifted to something more still, less humid and with the few splats of drops that started to scatter around you, both you and Bucky knew that you only had a few minutes to get to his place.
“Let’s go,” Bucky said.
His hand tightened around yours as the two of you began to jog, trying to make it back in time. You were only about a block away before it started to come down, really come down. Puddles started to form rapidly, each time you and Bucky stepped into one it exacerbated how your already wet clothes clung to your bodies. A sigh of relief leaving his lips as he saw the door to his building was only a few steps away.
Bucky’s hands were shaking as he reached into his pocket to grab his keys, the water getting into his eyes as he looked down. But, unexpectedly, the moment struck you. It was poetic in a way that this man standing next to you needed to live a new life, he needed to breathe. Really breathe.
You don’t say anything as you turn away from him, walking towards the end of the sidewalk. The rain was coming down too hard for anyone to drive in, so you ran into the middle of the street.
“Wha-?”
Bucky’s eyes were wide as he turned to look over his shoulder, watching you carefully. You stood with your head back tilted towards the sky, letting the rain cover you, cleanse you. Stepping away from the door, Bucky walked towards you, calling your name over the rain falling.
“What the hell are you doing?” He asked, his hand moving to smooth over his wet locks.
“I’m having the best damn time of my life!” You called back, your heart fluttering as you watched him. “Join me!”
If Bucky didn’t want you before, he definitely did now. His heart stammered in his chest as your words hit his ears, registering in his head. There was a moment of hesitation before he moved, not because he didn’t want to join you, but because you looked absolutely ethereal. Angels would weep from the beauty in front of him, maybe that’s why it was raining.
“You’re crazy!” Bucky yells as he steps into the street, only taking a few strides until he’s in front of you.
The smile on your face can’t be wiped off now as you grab his hand and start running up and down the street together, like he used to do when he was a kid. Bucky can’t believe his life had come full circle, and he can’t believe how hard he’s smiling, how much fun he’s having. It’s like you had planted a seed in his heart and it was now blossoming right out of his chest.
“It’s fun!” You called out to him as the two of you let go of each other’s hands, Bucky’s fingers slipping out of yours as you ran ahead of him, leaving him in his place. “I want you to have fun!”
The world was spinning and rain didn’t let up. Bucky was having such a good time watching you he didn’t even care how cold it felt on his skin, or how his metal arm tightened a bit when wet. No, there were no thoughts in his head that didn’t consist of you.
You’re standing right in the middle of the block again, Bucky’s a little ways away from you with his hands on his hips. Is this what it felt like to be free? He watched your frame, the way you weren’t afraid to take up space in this world, to let everyone know you were happy.
Why should he hold back too?
He cupped his hands over the sides of his mouth as he called your name once more, getting your attention as the two of your gazes met. His smile widened and his heart fluttered, the need to tell you everything flooding him the way this rain flooded the streets. Bucky had jogged over to you in an instant, his hands moving to cup your cheeks as he looked down at you.
“I like you,” He says loudly so you can hear it.
“What?” You call out to him; you heard him the first time, you just wanted to hear him say it again.
“I said I like you!” He calls back out. “I like you so much. I think about you all the time. I don’t think I knew what living was before I met you.”
Bucky doesn’t care that your hair is wet and swept over your face, he doesn’t care that both of you are slightly shivering now. He doesn’t care that he feels lighter now that he’s vocalized his feelings to you. All he cares about is that damn smile on your face, the way you grab the front of his wet shirt to pull him in closer, and the way your hearts seem to beat in sync.
The world seemed to stop as he brought his lips down to yours. Your arms snake up to wrap around his neck, and he keeps a firm grasp on your cheek as the two of you let your lips take control of the moment. It’s soft yet deeply intimate, feeling him nip at your bottom lip a few times. Bucky Barnes was completely intoxicated by you.
And as the rain began to slow down, the world seemed to come back to life after the shower, and all you could do was slightly pull away from him, your lips still brushing against one anothers. Bucky couldn’t help but chase your lips, needing a few more kisses from you at that moment.
“I like you too, Buck,” You whispered against his lips. “More than you know.”
Your hands slide up to wipe his hair off his damp forehead, your eyes now catching his bright blues. He chuckled quietly, the hair on the back of his neck standing up as goosebumps ran down his flesh arm.
“Yeah?” He asked, his voice hoarse. “Is that a promise?”
“Yeah.” You grabbed the side of his neck as you pulled him in for a few more sweet kisses. “That’s a promise.”
And as the two of you moved inside to finally dry off, Bucky knew his life had truly just begun.
#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes reader#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes x you#bucky x reader#bucky barnes fluff#there is nothing i love more than a sweet bucky moment#listen to iris by the goo goo dolls while you read this#for maximum payoff lol#100#200#500
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hey 😏
just wondering if you have anymore mer reader in the works 😏
also! i hope that your doing well!!
and can i be 🌕 anon? :)
You can absolutely be 🌕 anon! And, I do! Here's the final installment of:
Human!Damian x Mer!Reader
Part 9
Masterlist is Here!
"I'll need everyone's attention before we continue into the next exhibit, please."
Damian's voice is clear but firm, no room for argument in his tone, and his tour group all quickly quiet down to watch him. He rewards them with his well-practiced Customer Service Smile, nodding once.
"Thank you," he says. "This final exhibit is the pride and joy of Gotham Aquarium: the Mer tank. I can already see hands raised, and I'll open the floor up to questions in a minute. We're going to cover the rules first."
He holds up one hand, raising a finger as he goes.
"Rule number one: absolutely no flash photography. Take as many pictures and videos you want, but you have to leave the flash off. Our mer's eyes are sensitive to highly-focused levels of light, and you could temporarily blind them. Rule number two: do not knock or beat on the glass. It is several inches thick and reinforced, but you can still startle and disturb the mer. Rule number three: please...please stop flipping off our mer. They've learned to mimic their handlers and some of the guests, and it took weeks to make them quit it. If I see a bird, notice a flash, or catch you banging on the glass, everyone will be asked to leave."
He drops his hand, looking at every guest expectantly.
"Got it? Everyone say yes, Damian."
"Yes, Damian," the crowd echoes back, a mixture of amusement from the adults and excitement from the children reaching his ears. He gives them another practiced smile and reaches for the door.
"Great. Then step right in. Fan out and look around as much as you want. You can ask any questions now."
"How long has Gotham Aquarium had the mer?" One adult immediately asks, examining the seaweed on the bottom of your tank.
"Almost two years," Damian replies. "The anniversary of their arrival is in a month. We've got a small party planned to celebrate."
"What's the mer's favorite color?" A child asks him, gently tugging on Damian's pant leg to get his attention. His smile becomes more genuine.
"Green," he replies. "They love green things. I see your hair clip is green. They'll probably stare at you when they come out."
The little girl gasps, eyes wide. "Really!?" She turns and runs to her dad. "Hey daddy! The mer likes green, and my hair clip is green! The mer will like me!"
More questions come that Damian answers with ease. He paces along the floor and casts his gaze upward, examining all the little ways your tank has been changing overtime.
Your rock collection has grown substantially since Damian started painting more for you. He gives you a new one every day, and you have them proudly scattered all along the floor to decorate your enclosure. You've also taken to moving your seaweed around; instead of one, big stretch of it to hide and sleep in, you've uprooted it and made it into a series of little hiding places. He can also see some weighted toys lying around that one visitor asks about, happy to explain how you use them for enrichment.
"When's the mer come out?" Another one asks, leaning against the glass. His eyes are practically glazed over from disinterest. "Is it sleeping or something? These tickets were like forty bucks and I'm just staring at rocks and water."
There's a loud thud against the glass behind him. The man yelps and whips around to find you with your hands pressed against the wall, eyes wide and teeth bared as you stare right at him.
"Oh, shit!"
Damian sighs, but he's smirking. You love startling unsuspecting guests; it's your second favorite activity. He watches the others flock to you once they realize what happened, and you perk up and examine them all with a much more pleasant smile.
"Daddy, I can't see," the girl from before complains. Her father gently hoists her up onto his shoulders, and you immediately take notice.
You push off from the glass and swim around the edge of the tunnel to examine her as closely as possible. You tap one claw on the glass, then gesture to your head, and the little girl gasps and beams.
"They see it!!! They see my hair clip daddy!!" She chirps. She tugs it off of her head and holds it up for you to see better. Your pupils widen and your tail swishes gently back and forth, deeply intrigued.
"Obviously, this is our mer," Damian speaks up, and he tells them your name. "Their breed is found in shallow, fresh water. They thrive in warmer temperatures, and they're very rarely alone. You can typically expect them to travel in pods of at least three, though more commonly up to six or seven."
"But Gotham Aquarium only has one mer?" A guest asks, while you make playful grabs for the clip to no avail. "Aren't they lonely, then?"
"There was a big adjustment period for them when we first acquired our mer," Damian nods, "but they have a dedicated team of caregivers that ensure they aren't lonely or bored. They've bonded with several of us very well. Even though they recognize that we don't live underwater, they still see us as pod-mates."
"How long did it take to bond with them?"
"Great question," Damian says. He watches you give up on snatching the clip and start swimming around the tunnel to examine the other visitors. "It took them about ten months after arriving to learn to trust me. We started off slow: I would use a remote-controlled robot to deliver their buckets of food and then dump it into the water. Then I would enter the room where the top of the tank is, and hand it to them with a long pole. Then I got rid of the pole and set the bucket on the lip of the tank, and stood back while they retrieved it. When they got used to me being around, we started working on small tricks."
Damian lifts his hands, wiggling his fingers to catch your attention. You lock eyes with him and give a knowing nod, swimming up until you're positioned directly above him. He waves his left hand clockwise, and you swim in slow, clockwise circles. He waves his right arm next, and you switch and start spinning counter-clockwise.
"This is all done humanely and voluntarily, of course," Damian explains while the guests watch on with rapt attention. "If there's a trick they don't want to perform, they simply won't do it. We don't force them into doing anything, including coming out during tours if that's not what they want. Some days they just aren't up to saying hello, and that's fine."
He drops one arm and uses the other to make a broad waving motion. You mimic the action. He points at one of your toys, gesturing for you to grab it and bring it over. You glance at the one he wants, then ignore him and decide to go back over to the little girl and admire her hair clip some more.
"As you can see, they like shiny objects, especially if they're green. They've got a small collection of aquatic-safe objects in their hideaway. All breeds of mer tend to have hoarding tendencies, and ours is no different."
Damian gives the group a few more facts about you and your general behaviors, answers some more questions, and then inevitably has to call it when the same guy complaining about ticket prices decides to photograph you with the flash on. You flinch and rub your eyes, then dart away out of sight.
"All right, everyone, please come this way," he calls, in that cordial but no-nonsense tone again, and holds open the door. "This concludes your tour of Gotham Aquarium. Please exit this way in an orderly fashion."
"Aww.."
"Nice job, jackass. We were supposed to be in here for at least twenty more minutes."
"I didn't think he was serious! I forgot to turn the flash off, so what!"
"That was kinda cool. Sucks we couldn't stay, though."
There's a tug on his pants again. Damian looks down at the little girl, who fidgets nervously.
"Um...is the mer gonna be okay? Are their eyes hurting a lot?" She asks. Damian knees down to her height and offers her another smile.
"They'll be fine," he promises. "I personally check on them every day. What's your name? I'll tell them you said hi."
"Um!" The girl blushes, eyes wide. "It's Rosie! Thank you mister!"
"You're welcome, Rosie. I hope you had fun today."
"So much fun!" She agrees, then turns to her dad and reaches up to take his hand, walking out of the tunnel. "Daddy, daddy! When I grow up I wanna take care of mers, too!"
"Okay, honey," her dad chuckles, "but you're gonna have to do your homework if that dream is gonna come true."
"Aw, man!....okay. I'll do my math sheets for the mers..."
Once the room is cleared, Damian closes and locks the doors. He hangs around just long enough to ensure no stragglers try to swing back around, then drops the Polite Tour Guide persona and heads for the staff elevators with a scowl. It's a matter of minutes before he's in the locker room, swapping out the Aquarium polo and khakis for his wetsuit and then trudging into your tank entrance.
"Rule one!" He complains to Jon, who is already sitting on the lip of the tank and filling a puzzle cube with treats for you. "No flash! It's the first rule, and someone breaks it almost every single day we're open! One day I'm going to hit my limit for these witless miscreants and start punching people."
"So, tours didn't go super well I take it," Jon says, not even sparing him a glance. He's heard different versions of this rant at least five times and doesn't react to it anymore, having quickly come to understand that Damian is just Like That. "You gonna go do the eye exam already or should I call my dad? Y'know, the actual vet?"
"He's never as thorough as I prefer. You know that. Also: shut up, who asked you?"
"You're a joy and a delight to work with, Wayne."
Damian ignores him and grabs a rebreather and situates it over his mouth, ties the bag of eye equipment around his waist, steps up onto the edge of the tank, then dives. The water swirls around him, an all-encompassing and welcoming pressure. He starts pedaling his arms and legs, headed for the direction you sped off at the end of the tour.
He finds you in the middle level of your tank, about a floor down, curled around an underwater tree limb and rubbing your eyes. You squint at him when you notice his presence and trill, the water vibrating slightly around you.
Damian quickly goes to work, pulling out one tool at a time to check on your eyes and how well you can see. You're perfectly fine, just annoyed, but he considers having his father enact a total ban on any cameras in the tunnel when tours come by. Just because you're fine now doesn't mean it'll stay that way every time.
He points upwards, to the surface, and you nod. You take his hand and pull him along, your powerful tail carrying him faster than he ever could on his own, and soon you're both above the water and treading it calmly.
"Welcome back!" Jon grins, waving your puzzle toy at you. "Refilled this for ya. Your record for getting all the treats out is six minutes. Think you can break that today?"
Your eyes narrow and you reach for it eagerly. You can smell the squid and shrimp tucked into each compartment, which are your favorites; absolutely you will be getting those out in six minutes or less.
Damian pulls himself up to the lip of the tank and both boys watch you poke, pull, and prod at the components of the puzzle box. It's not long before you're collecting your spoils and eating them triumphantly. Jon checks his timer and notes that you beat your previous record by over a minute and a half.
"Are you surprised?" Damian huffs. "They're brilliant. They could learn to do just about anything with enough time and practice."
You preen, chittering your agreement. That's why Damian is your favorite caretaker; he's never doubted you since getting to know you, not ever.
He did forget something, though. You toss the puzzle box back at Jon and make grabby hands, face expectant.
Damian immediately clears his throat and looks at Jon, cheeks turning the barest shade of pink. "I need you to go and fetch the shears. The vine growth on the middle level of the tank is beginning to obscure vision and easy travel."
"You didn't bring them with you?" Jon frowns. "Dude. They're all the way on the bottom floor in the maintenance closet. It's gonna take me like twenty minutes to get back here."
"Then you'd better make haste."
"Why can't you do it?"
Damian scowls at him. Jon throws his hands up and climbs to his feet.
"Fine! Haven't gotten my ten thousand steps yet anyway," he grumbles, heading for the door. "Don't play hide and seek without me! I've just gotten good at finding spots I can fit in!"
You chitter and chirp, amused, then focus on Damian again once the doors go your enclosure snap shut.
Damian faces you, the pink in his cheeks worsening. He fiddles with the bag tied to his waist and avoids your gaze.
"I, ah..." He starts, working his jaw in thought. "The girl whose clip you liked. She says hello. Her name is Rosie."
You blink, waiting patiently for him to get to the point.
"I was asked about how you've adjusted to life here without pod-mates. I told them you have a pod in us. That you're not alone here despite being the only one of your kind in Gotham Aquarium." Damian swishes his feet slowly in the water, following the same rhythm as your tail. You drift a little closer.
"And you've adjusted very well, Princess," he continues, voice turning soft. "I can't thank you enough for giving me a second chance to care for you. I want you to know that it means everything to me."
Damian meets your gaze again, and there it is. There's that pair of gorgeous, emerald eyes you adore. You drift even closer, resting your palms on the backs of his calves, and smile up at him. He smiles right back.
"You noticed I don't have another rock for you," he says. You nod. "It's because I didn't bring you a rock this time."
You frown, huffing. Damian chuckles.
"You know I kept the scales you gave me," he admits, recapturing your attention. Your eyes widen, heart starting to pound in your chest. Was he about to give them back? You didn't want them back. "They're beautiful, Princess. I keep them in a jar in my bedroom, and I look at them all the time. They make me happy every time I see them. I wanted to give you something like that in return."
Your heart pounds faster. It sounds like he's about to do what you've wanted from him for what feels like forever. Your grip on his calves tightens, wide eyes searching his own.
"I don't ever want you to doubt how much I care about you again," Damian says, pulling your gift out of the pouch on his waist.
It's a beautiful, emerald pendant on a gold chain, the jewel the same shade as his eyes. You're immediately captivated, reaching up with a trembling hand to cradle the necklace to your chest and admire it more closely. The gentle, rippling water of your tank reflects against the surface and makes the shine of it seem to undulate all around you. It's the most wonderful gift you've ever gotten.
"I hope... I hope that you'll accept this token of courtship," Damian finishes quietly.
You look up at him with tears in your eyes and trill loudly enough to make his ears ring. You tug frantically at his legs and he obediently slips back into the water, letting you wrap your arms around him and squeeze tight, tight, tight. He squeezes you right back, resting his chin on top of your head.
"I love you," he mumbles into your hair. You warble it back as best as you can, nuzzling into him, then lean up and gently press your lips against his. He presses right back, shivering but not from the chill of the water.
Jon finds the two of you like that when he returns with the shears twenty minutes later. He just sighs and rolls his eyes.
"First of all, finally. The will-they-won't-they drama was killing me. Second of all, you could have just said you wanted a moment alone, dude. It took me forever to find these! Do the vines even need trimmed down?"
Damian just smiles and hides his face in your shoulder. They don't.
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Even the Tallest Pines

Pairing: Lumberjack!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Warnings: 18+ only. Fluff. Slight Angst.
Summary: Bucky is used to pushing through, working until the ache fades, going on until his body just starts functioning as it should again. But when illness knocks him down this time, he learns that even the tallest pines need someone to lean on.
Word Count: 5k.
note: Part of the Roots and Branches AU
Bucky barely had time to turn away before the sneeze hit him like a damn freight train.
“Fuck!” He braced a hand on the workbench, sniffling hard as a shiver made his body tremble.
“Jesus, man.” Sam’s voice came from across the workshop, charged with equal concern and disgust. “That was violent.”
Bucky grumbled something unintelligible, rubbing a rough hand down his face. His head felt stuffed with cotton, his throat was raw, and his joints ached like he’d been thrown off a roof. He ignored it. There was still work to be done.
But five minutes later, another sneeze ripped through his body, and it was so forceful it made him stumble.
“Alright, hell no.” Sam dropped the plank of wood he was carrying, pointing at him. “Get your plague-ridden ass outta here.”
“M’fine,” Bucky muttered, grabbing a rag to wipe his nose.
Sam stared at him like he had finally lost his damn mind. “Man, look at you. You’re dripping. Ain’t nobody tryin’ to catch whatever biohazard you got.”
Bucky sniffed hard, straightening. “I can still work.”
Sam let out a sharp, disbelieving laugh. “You sneezed so hard just now I thought you were about to bust a damn lung.” He crossed his arms. “Go home, Buck. Before I make you.”
Bucky scowled, tensing his shoulders. He hated being benched, hated feeling useless. But the fact that his knees were actually wobbly was probably a bad sign. He exhaled sharply, mumbling, “Fine,” before turning and grabbing his things.
As he trudged toward the door, Sam called after him, “And text somebody when you get home, man. Let ‘em know you’re still alive.”
Bucky just lifted a hand in half-assed acknowledgment, pushing the door open and stepping into the cold. The wind hit him like a slap to the face, and he bit back a shiver.
He wasn’t telling anyone shit.
With heavy steps, he made his way to his truck, already planning his next move, go home, take a scalding shower, pour a generous glass of whiskey with lemon and honey, and then sleep the damn flu off.
No need to make a big deal out of it.
-----
He slumped onto the couch the second he got home, his body throbbed with exhaustion. His muscles ached, his joints felt stiff and useless, and his head pounded in time with his pulse. But the worst part -the absolute worst- was his arm.
It always acted up when he was sick, a cruel reminder that no matter how much time passed, it still was going to give him trouble, and always will. The ache ran deep, seeping into the tendons mingled with metal, an uncomfortable weight that pulled at his shoulder, making everything feel wrong. He rolled it absently, wincing when the dull throb sharpened and radiated up to his neck.
He sighed, dragging a hand over his face, trying to muster the energy to move. He still had to shower and still had to set up near the fireplace since his bed would feel like an icebox tonight. But first-
He pulled out his phone and sent her a text.
Doing alright?
Simple. Normal. No reason for her to suspect anything. He knew if she heard him, she’d know immediately that something was off. His voice was half-gone already, scratchy and hoarse, and he wasn’t about to deal with her fussing.
A second later, his phone vibrated with her reply.
Yeah, all good! You?
Bucky smirked faintly, already knowing what she’d say if he did tell her the truth. Come over. I’ll make you soup. You need medicine, Bucky. Have you even taken anything?
He exhaled through his nose, typing back:
Mhm. Just sitting by the fire.
Not a lie, technically.
She sent a heart emoji in response, and Bucky huffed a small laugh before mirroring the action and setting the phone aside. He pushed himself to his feet, groaning when his back protested, and forced himself into the bathroom.
The shower helped, but only a little. The scalding heat loosened his stiff muscles, and let some of the aches drain away, but the fever still burned beneath his skin, making him feel both too hot and too cold all at once. He stood under the spray longer than necessary, pressing his forehead against the tiles, letting the steam work on his stuffed nose.
Eventually, he shut off the water, wrapping a towel around his waist as he padded into the kitchen. His body craved sleep, but first, the whiskey.
He grabbed the bottle from the cabinet, pouring a generous amount into a glass before adding a squeeze of lemon and a spoonful of honey. It was an old habit, something he’d done back in the war when there weren’t fancy medicines to knock out a cold. The honey soothed his throat, the lemon cut through the congestion, and the whiskey? Well, the whiskey made sure he wouldn’t be awake long enough to care about how miserable he felt.
Drink in hand, he moved to the fireplace, tossing another log onto the dwindling embers before settling onto the floor. His mattress would feel too big tonight, too cold, too empty. The fire would keep him warm enough, and the heat might help with the damn chills.
He downed half the glass in one go, and the burn spread down his throat and settled deep in his stomach. His body thanked him for it moments later, as the tension eased just enough to let his muscles relax.
The last thing he remembered before the sleep took him was the way the fire crackled softly, and how its warmth flickered over his skin, lulling him into heavy, dreamless oblivion.
Somewhere in the night, his phone vibrated from the coffee table, once, twice, three times. Then, his battery went dead.
----
She was finishing her morning coffee when her phone rang. She glanced at the screen, Sam.
“Hey, Sam,” she greeted, tucking the phone between her ear and shoulder as she grabbed a slice of toast.
“What’s up?” Sam replied. “Hey, is Bucky with you?”
She frowned. “No, why?”
“Because he left his wallet at the shop yesterday. I’ve been calling him, but he’s not answering.”
She straightened in her chair. She thought back to the night before, he had texted her like he normally did if he was tired, and nothing seemed off… but now that she thought about it, he never responded when she sent a goodnight message.
“What?” she asked, her voice sharper now. “He didn’t go to work today?”
Sam let out a short huff. “Nah, I sent his ass home yesterday. He looked like hell, sneezing all over the damn place. Told him to rest up.”
Bucky hadn’t told her.
Of course, he hadn’t.
“I’ll go check on him,” she said, already pushing back her chair and reaching for her jacket.
“Yeah, do that,” Sam replied. “And if he gives you any attitude, knock some sense into him for me.”
But she barely heard him as she shoved on her boots and grabbed her keys.
Bucky was sick. His phone was off.
And she knew damn well he wasn’t taking care of himself.
---
Before driving to Bucky’s place, She made a quick stop in town to gather supplies. Vegetables for soup, jelly powder in case his throat was too sore for real food, and a few non-prescription meds to help with the symptoms.
Stubborn man.
Still reluctant to show vulnerability, still keeping things to himself, using his own damn words, don’t wanna be a bother. Like he hadn’t spent his entire life carrying burdens that were never meant to be his alone.
She suspected it had everything to do with what happened after he was discharged. The arm, the way people looked at him, the other things he never talked about. Being abandoned, discarded, and left to figure it all out on his own. No wonder he still acted like needing help was some kind of failure.
Her grip strengthened on the steering wheel as she pulled onto the winding road leading to his cabin. She exhaled slowly, shaking off the frustration. No use being mad at him for something so deeply ingrained in his brain. She’d just have to remind him, again, that he didn’t have to all alone.
When she finally reached the cabin, she pulled into the driveway and immediately noticed the curtains were drawn, but his truck was parked there. So, he was home.
She knocked first, out of courtesy.
No answer. Not that she expected one.
With a sigh, she pulled out her spare key and let herself in.
The moment she stepped inside, she was hit with the heavy warmth of the fire, the thick scent of whiskey in the air. Her stomach twisted as her eyes landed on him.
Bucky was sprawled out on the floor near the fireplace, tangled in a mess of damp sheets, his bare body slick with sweat. His face was flushed and his brow was furrowed even in sleep. And beside him, within arm’s reach, was an almost empty bottle of scotch.
She exhaled through her nose, setting the bags down before crouching beside him. “Jesus, Buck…” she muttered, brushing her fingers over his burning forehead.
His skin was scorching, his breathing deep and heavy, completely dead to the world.
She sighed, shaking her head, but there was no real anger behind the gesture, just worry.
Stubborn idiot.
She took a moment to think about her next move, rubbing a hand over her face as she glanced between Bucky’s fever-flushed body and the mess of his living room floor.
First things first, his bed.
She made her way to the bedroom, flipping on the lamp. As expected, the sheets were still mostly untouched, a little rumpled but nowhere near as messy as they should’ve been if he’d actually been using them. A few pieces of clothing were scattered over the mattress, along with some clutter, proof that he’d been avoiding the space -again-.
With a sigh, she got to work. She stripped the bed, shaking out clean sheets and pulling up fresh blankets, making sure the space was comfortable enough for when she dragged his stubborn ass in here. Once that was done, she grabbed a glass of water, filled it to the brim, and placed it on the nightstand along with the medicine she bought. At least that would be ready when he finally woke up.
And now, for the hardest part, getting him up.
She stepped back into the living room, crossing her arms as she stared down at him. He hadn’t moved, still deeply asleep, with sweat clinging to his skin, breathing slow and heavy.
Alright, big guy, she thought. Time to move.
Crouching down beside him, she reached for his shoulder, giving it a firm shake.
“Bucky,” she called, keeping her voice gentle. No response.
She shook him again, a little harder this time. “Come on, Buck. You can’t sleep on the floor like that.”
A low, irritated grumble escaped his lips, but he didn’t open his eyes.
She sighed, pressing her lips together. She patted his cheek lightly, and her voice took on that patient but no-nonsense tone. “Bucky. Wake up.”
Another grumble, and this time, he shifted slightly, furrowing his brows even deeper. His lips parted as he let out a hoarse, barely coherent, “Wha’?”
She huffed. “You need to get up and go to bed. Come on, I’ll help.”
He cracked one eye open, bleary and unfocused, before immediately shutting it again. “M’fine.”
She let out a sharp laugh. “Oh, sure. You look fine,” she deadpanned. “Come on, darling. Work with me here.”
Bucky groaned, clearly not interested in cooperating, but when she tugged at his arm, he didn’t resist. Slowly, sluggishly, he let her pull him upright, and his body swayed slightly as he fought to keep his balance.
She gritted her teeth, wrapping an arm around his waist to steady him. “Jesus, you’re burning up.”
He let out something between a grunt and a sigh, leaning into her more than he probably realized. “Jus’ lemme… stay here,” he muttered, his voice scratchy, heavy with sleep.
Y/N rolled her eyes, adjusting her grip. “Yeah, no chance, love. We’re moving.”
And with that, she began the slow, grueling process of getting a fevered, half-conscious Bucky Barnes to the damn bedroom.
After the titanic effort of getting him into the room -half-dragging, half-guiding his deadweight frame down the hall- she finally managed to shove him onto the bed with one last push. He landed with a tired grunt, barely making the effort to adjust himself before his body sank into the mattress.
She wasted no time pulling the blankets over him, making sure he was tucked in
She didn’t question him. Instead, she exhaled softly and said the only thing that mattered.
“You should have told me, Bucky.”
His brows pinched slightly, and his lips parted like he was going to argue, but before he could get a word out, she pressed an ibuprofen pill into his palm and handed him the glass of water.
“Only water for now,” she said, firmly but gently.
He hesitated for a second, then averted his gaze, clearly catching the meaning behind her words. She didn’t have to spell it out. He swallowed the pill with a slow sip of water, then rested the glass on his chest, staring up at the ceiling. A beat of silence passed before he muttered, “You should go.”
She arched a brow. “Oh?”
“You’ll get sick,” he rasped, his voice was barely above a mumble. “No point in both of us feeling like shit.”
She let out a small, knowing huff. Typical. Even half-dead, he was still trying to push her away, still convinced he was protecting her from something.
“Oh, we can be miserable together,” she said smiling, as she smoothed the blankets over him. “It’s kind of romantic.”
Bucky barely opened his mouth to argue before a violent sneeze tore through his body, making his whole body jolt. He groaned, sniffling, then cursed under his breath when he felt the dampness sticking in his beard.
She handed him a box of tissues and then smoothed a hand over his burning forehead, brushing damp hair away from his face. “I’m gonna make you some soup,” she said softly.
“Jus’ leave it in a tupper or somethin’ and go,” he muttered with exhaustion.
She exhaled through her nose, leveling him with a look. “You know, the more you try to play the lone wolf, the more I want to stick around. So, you won’t convince me.”
She felt his chest rise with a deep inhale, like he was about to protest, but he didn’t. Whether it was the fever, the exhaustion, or maybe the smallest part of him that liked having her here, he just let out a rough, wordless hum instead.
Satisfied, she gave his arm a gentle squeeze and stood. “I’ll be in the kitchen.”
----
As she chopped the vegetables, she let out a low chuckle, shaking her head at the ridiculous thought that had crept into her mind.
All those soapy romance novels and cheesy TV dramas always had that moment, the fevered guy, burning up and vulnerable, somehow managing to get miraculously horny while the female lead doted on him. It always led to a heated, unhinged sex scene, full of fever-induced desperation and raw passion.
She snorted, slicing through a carrot. Yeah, right.
Her gaze flickered toward the bedroom, and her thoughts drifted to the bear of a man she had as a boyfriend. Bucky, miserable and feverish, half-buried under blankets, sweaty and grumbling like the world had personally wronged him.
Meanwhile, he was in the bedroom, barely clinging to consciousness. He hated being stuck in bed, hated the way his limbs felt like lead, the way his head swam every time he moved.
But maybe -maybe- if the ibuprofen kicked in soon, he could get up, stand on his own two damn feet, and make it to the main area. He wasn’t about to let her see him as some bedridden pussy. He’d take that damn soup at the table like a normal person, even if it killed him.
And that was the origin of the predicament he was facing now.
The moment the scent of the soup hit his nose -warm, rich, comforting- something in him refused to stay in bed. His body ached, his fever still burned, but the thought of being stuck under those damn blankets while she took care of everything? No fucking way. Because if he let it happen, if he let himself indulge in such fussing, eventually she…
So, he forced himself upright.
The first step was shaky, but he gritted his teeth and kept moving, dragging himself toward the main area like a man on a mission. His vision swam slightly, and his balance was off, but he ignored it.
Until he couldn’t.
The dizziness hit hard and fast, and his stomach lurched as his knees buckled. Instinctively, he threw out his left arm, pressing his palm against the nearest wall to catch himself-
And fuck.
White-hot pain traveled through his shoulder, down to the metal joints of his arm, making his grip faltered. His breath hitched, his muscles locked up, and before he could stabilize himself, his weight slipped out from under him.
The next thing he knew, he was on the damn floor. The loud thud echoed through the cabin, sharp and jarring against the crackle of the fire.
From the kitchen, she startled, nearly dropping the spoon she was holding. “Bucky?” she called, alarmed.
No answer.
Just a sharp inhale, followed by a muttered curse.
He was on the floor, with one knee bent awkwardly beneath him, and his right hand gripping his bad arm, his face was tight with pain. His breathing was uneven, and for a moment, he just sat there, blinking sluggishly, like his body was still trying to process what the hell had just happened.
She dropped to her knees beside him, her hands already reaching out to him. “Jesus, Buck,” she breathed, scanning him quickly. “What the hell were you thinking?”
He clenched his jaw, shifting slightly as he tried -and failed- to push himself upright. “Was tryin’ to get to the table,” he muttered. “Didn’t wanna be-”
She cut him off with a sharp look. “Don’t even finish that sentence.”
His lips pressed into a stubborn line, but he didn’t argue. Mostly because he was too damn exhausted to fight her on it.
She sighed, brushing a hand over his damp forehead before gripping his good arm. “Come on, big guy,” she murmured. “Let’s get you back to bed.”
It took effort -more than she’d admit- but eventually, she got him standing, letting him lean into her body as she guided him down the hall. He was heavy with fever, and his movements sluggish, and by the time she finally got him onto the bed, he all but collapsed into it, as his muscles gave out completely.
His tired eyes flickered open just a little, hazy and unfocused. His lips parted like he wanted to say something, but all that came out was a rough exhale.
She folded her arms, fixing him with a look that left zero room for argument.
“Listen here, James,” she said, her voice calm but firm. “You are going to remain in that bed and will only leave it to go to the bathroom. You got it?”
Bucky scowled. “But it’s-”
“No.” She cut him off before he could even try. “You’re going to stay right there, I’m going to bring you the soup, and I’m going to feed you. And you’re going to eat all of it without protest. Do you understand?”
His tired brain lagged for a second. Then his brows furrowed, and his fever-flushed face twisted in disbelief. “Feed- what?”
“Yes, feed,” she said, matter-of-factly. “You’re going to open your mouth and let me feed you that soup like a little bird.”
His jaw dropped slightly, and indignation flashed across his exhausted features. “Dammit, woman, I-”
“Do you want me to call Dr. Roberts?” she asked sweetly, tilting her head. “Hm?”
Bucky froze.
She could see the war happening inside his fevered brain. On one hand, his pride was taking a massive hit. On the other, the last thing he wanted was for the town doctor to come poking around, fussing over him worse than she was, to surely stab in his rear with an injection.
With a long, suffering sigh, he dropped his head back against the pillow.
“Fine,” he grumbled.
She sighed slowly. “Baby, I know that because of reasons you have a hard time letting yourself be seen vulnerable, but I thought we had passed the stage where you hide that from me. Why is it so bad to let yourself take a break and let me take care of you?”
She reached for one of his hands and squeezed it softly. He averted his gaze, and tensed his jaw, clearly wrestling with something. He was tired of hiding things, things he knew he should have told her but still didn’t know how to address.
She was right.
He was dragging ghosts from the past into their relationship, letting old wounds dictate how much of himself he allowed her to see. And it wasn’t fair to her. So, he forced himself to open up.
“I was engaged once,” he said, still not looking at her.
She blinked, taken aback by the sudden confession. Well, she hadn’t expected that.
Bucky kept his gaze fixed on the ceiling, and his fingers twitched slightly in her grasp, but he didn’t pull away.
“For about a year,” he continued, and his voice was hoarse, whether from the fever or the weight of the memory, she wasn’t sure. “Back when I got out. Thought… I thought I was doin’ the right thing. Settling down. Moving on.” He let out a humorless chuckle. “Didn’t exactly work out.”
She stayed quiet, letting him talk at his own pace.
“She stuck around through the first couple of surgeries,” he said, finally glancing at her, but only briefly. “But the pain, the therapy, the… the way I was back then…" He shook his head. "She didn’t sign up for that.”
“She left?” she asked softly, gently squeezing his hand.
Bucky swallowed, and his eyes went dark with something old, something raw. “Didn’t even say it to my face. Just a note on the counter when I got home from PT one day.” His fingers curled slightly around hers. “Said she couldn’t watch me waste away. That I wasn’t the man she fell for. That… that was hard for her.”
She felt something twist uglily in her chest.
“And… ever since then,” he went on, voice quieter now, “bein’ sick, bein’ hurt, feelin’ weak, it all just… reminds me of that. Of how easy it was for someone who supposedly wanted to spend the rest of her life with me to walk away when I wasn’t at my best.” His breath was shallow like he’d just finished a fight. But he didn’t let go of her hand.
She exhaled slowly and deliberately, trying to rein in the sharp flare of anger on his behalf. “Bucky,” she murmured, shaking her head. “You know I’m not her.”
His gaze finally met hers, and she could see wariness there, the part of him that wanted to believe her but was still bracing for something else.
She reached up, brushing a few damp strands of hair away from his forehead.
“You don’t have to prove anything to me,” she said. “Not your strength, not your worth, nothing.” She leaned in, pressing a kiss to his temple. “I’m here because I love you. Not just the good days. All of you.”
Bucky closed his eyes for a moment, exhaling a breath he must’ve been holding onto for years. When he finally opened his eyes again and met hers, some of the resistance had faded. “I- I know. Objectively, I know. But my mind doesn’t seem to care about that, and… I just shut down.” His throat worked around the words, and his jaw tightened before continuing. “And it’s not just-” He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “I keep thinking… If I’m not strong, if I’m not useful, people leave. And maybe that’s fair.” His fingers curled into his free palm, and his knuckles paled. “After everything I’ve done -after all the good men who never made it home- why should I get to be taken care of?” His voice went quiet, rough. “They deserved to come back. Not me.”
“Never say that, Bucky.” Her fingers clenched around his hand. “You carry so much weight on your shoulders, and you are such a kindhearted man. We haven’t talked about… certain aspects of your past, but I know you. I know that even if it pains and haunts you, you did what you had to. Not because you wanted to, but because there was no other choice. And I refuse to believe that anything you did was out of anything but survival.”
Bucky swallowed hard with an unreadable expression, but his fingers tightened around hers this time, like he was afraid to let go. “I’ll try to remember that,” he finally said, finding her gaze with a tired smile.
She pressed a soft kiss to his knuckles. “Will you let me feed you like a little bird, then?”
He huffed, drifting his gaze to the side. “…If you wanna.”
“Oh, I want to,” she murmured, with a teasing lilt in her voice. “I want to feed you, maybe help you shower, tuck you into bed…”
He let out a dry chuckle. “What’s next? Powder my ass? Stick a pacifier into my mouth?”
She smirked. “Well, smart mouth, I happen to have two pacifiers you seem to enjoy a lot.” With that, she guided his hand to her chest, letting him cup her breast from underneath it.
Despite the exhaustion weighing his body down, his eyes darkened with interest. “Fuck, if I could move, I’d show you not to tease like that, sweetheart.”
She smiled, giving his hand a little squeeze where it rested, making him press his fingers harder against her flesh. “Too bad you can’t,” she teased, to gently pull away, standing up with a stretch.
Bucky let out a grumble but didn’t argue, only watching as she disappeared into the kitchen. He could hear the clatter of dishes, the faint bubbling of the soup as she stirred it. The warmth of the cabin, the scent of vegetables and broth, and the sound of her moving around the kitchen settled something nice inside him, soothing him.
When she returned, she was carrying a steaming bowl of soup, and a spoon in her other hand. He was still propped up against the pillows, looking a little more awake but no less exhausted. His fever-flushed face softened when he saw her.
She sat down beside him, shifting closer until her thigh pressed lightly against his. Without a word, she dipped the spoon into the soup, blowing on it before bringing it to his lips. He opened his mouth without hesitation, letting her feed him.
“There we go,” she murmured, pleased. “See? Not so bad.”
He hummed in response, swallowing slowly. The warmth of the broth must have felt good because some of the tension in his shoulders eased a little. She scooped another spoonful, repeating the same slow, careful process, and he let her. The action of feeding him, tucking the blankets closer around him between bites, brushing his hair back when it stuck to his damp forehead, it was intimate in a way that went beyond anything physical, and he had to admit he liked it. A lot.
By the time the bowl was nearly empty, his eyelids were starting to droop. The fever was still there, but the soup, the warmth, and maybe even the comfort of letting someone care for him were doing their job.
She set the bowl aside and brushed her fingers lightly over his cheek. “Get some rest, Buck,” she whispered.
His hand found hers on top of the blankets, giving it the smallest squeeze. “Would you stay, darlin’?”
She smiled gently at him. "Alright, just... let me change into something more comfortable, hm?" She didn’t wait for a response, already making her way to his closet. Pulling out one of his old flannels, she quickly slipped out of her clothes and into the worn fabric, relishing his lingering scent on the soft material.
By the time she climbed into bed, he had already shifted toward her instinctively. The moment she settled, he let his head rest against her chest, half-draping himself over her like she was his personal pillow. She knew this position well, when he was overwhelmed, when the weight of his mind pressed too hard, this was how he found peace. But tonight, it felt different. Less about fighting distress and more about simply wanting closeness.
She adjusted against the mattress, lacing her arms around him as her fingers traced slow, soothing circles along his broad back. His long, damp hair clung to his scalp, and she combed through it gently, and pressed a light kiss to the top of his head. “Comfortable now?” she murmured.
He hummed in response, nuzzling just a little closer. “Mhm.” A beat passed before he mumbled, “You always smell nice.” His voice was thick with exhaustion.
Her hand kept caressing his head, threading her fingers through the strands of hair in slow, gentle strokes. He let out a long exhale, loosening his grip on her waist as the sleep started claiming him.
“Sleep, handsome,” she whispered. “I’ve got you.”
And this time, he didn’t fight it.
Permanent taglist: @civilbucky
Dividers by: @/strangergraphics
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes fic#bucky x reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes x curvy!reader#bucky x curvy!reader#Lumberjack!Bucky
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College!Jason x Nerdy!Reader ⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚ mdni (18+)˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆
Part 1
Warnings: vaginal sex, fingering, unprotected sex.
a/n: The anon who requested part one is a genius and the love of my life, love you all mwahhh
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After your English project with Jason, the two of you got closer. You ended up making a deal: he would help you go out to parties more often and break out of your shell, in return for tutoring.
Jason wasn't dumb; he just got easily distracted in class and needed someone to push him. You needed to go out more and meet new people. It was an easy exchange; both of you won—technically, you won more than he did, since you'd watch him flex his arms above his head in concentration during study sessions. You'd watch his shirt ride up, revealing his toned abdomen when he stretched and groaned out of boredom. You’d feel him wrap an arm around you when you got too drunk at a party, carrying you back to your dorm.
Day by day, the two of you got closer. You learned why he rolled his eyes during literature classes: he was passionate about it, albeit troublesome. You learned his hockey schedule and attended his practices, games, and parties. You hung out with his team and met his friends.
Soon enough, you realized he was less broody and playboy-like than people had portrayed him. He was attractive and knew it, but he wasn't arrogant about it, so the friendship bloomed quickly, and naturally, so did the benefits.
Both of you liked each other, so it was really just a matter of time—how much you could take without folding. So, Jason took it upon himself to get you to hook up.
The first time you thought it a kind of impulsive incident, something that should not—would not— happen again; the second time he fucked you so good you hoped it would happen again. It did, several times.
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Jason had been grunting and huffing throughout your weekly hour of tutoring. He seemed more interested in making jokes and peeking down your blouse. He'd moved from his desk to his bed and so had you. You were beginning to lose your patience (and your resolve), so when he proposed that you take a break, you were quick to agree.
So, there you were, perched in his lap, arms around his neck and skirt bunched over your thighs as you straddled him. Your blouse and bra had been discarded the second you'd given Jason the go and his lips were latched onto your chest, nipping, sucking and kissing everywhere he could reach. You knew there was going to be dark purple splotches all over your neck and chest when you left his room that evening, but at that moment you couldn't bring yourself to mind.
"Fuck—sweetheart," He breathed out when you rolled your hips, his cock getting deeper inside you, hitting at that gummy spot that made you scream that much louder.
His thighs were coated in your slick, a creamy white ring at the base of his cock. The sound of his hips hitting your ass and your soft moans and whines rang loudly in the tiny room. You were sure someone on his floor would complain about the noise.
His grip on your hips tightened and he rolled you over onto your back, his hips never moving away from yours. He grabbed your leg and put it over his shoulder, allowing himself to hit that much deeper. Tears brimmed at your eyes as he filled you up. His movements didn't falter when an orgasm came over you, your legs shaking, giving up beneath you. He just smirked, let out a breathy groan, and pounded you that much harder.
"Jay, I—" You cut yourself off with a moan when his hand snaked down to your clit.
"You what baby?"
"'m close, Jay—" You furrowed your brows in concentration, hips bucking against him harshly.
He knew you were close even before you told him, he'd felt you clench around him, tight and warm, unrelenting. His hand on your clit rubbed faster figure eights and your hips bucked against him. His pace unwavering, his teal eyes holding your dazed gaze when you tightened around him, spasming and moaning his name.
You could hear the loud squelching noise you made, the skin slapping skin; you could feel the sweat and stickiness. His breathing quickened and his thrusts became messier, hurried, more like ruts than thrusts as he came inside you with a grunt.
You fell limp against the bed and allowed him to clean the mess in between your shaky legs. He rubbed a damp cloth over your sensitive skin, pressing kisses in it's wake. You could hear him muttering praise against your skin, but in your sex dazed state you couldn't make out the half of what he was saying.
He helped you get dressed in one of his hockey t-shirts and let you take a nap while he revised some notes. He'd let you quiz him later, and scold him for having sex with you instead of studying, because how could he know nothing of the entire unit? The exam was next friday!
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@prettywritergirl2 edited this w me!! (my bae)
requests are open!!
masterlist
#dc comics#batman#dc universe#jason todd#dc jason todd#jason todd x reader#jason todd smut#jason todd drabble#jason todd x fem reader#jason todd x fem!reader#jason todd x you#jason todd x y/n#red hood x reader#red hood imagine#red hood#red hood x you#red hood smut#jason todd imagine
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