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#also I’m sorry if the colors on this are weird?
yauchfilms · 7 hours
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anything with logan and being back in florida ? would appreciate!!! 🫶🏻🫶🏻
sunburn ✢ logan sargeant (18+)
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pairing: logan sargeant x reader (established relationship)
warnings: smut, porn with plot (lots of exposition sorry i got carried away), a few uses of y/n (used sparingly), soft dom!logan, switchy!reader, fingering, edging, unprotected p in v, lots of pet names, begging, lots and lots of praise, body part worship if you squint, cursing, logan’s a simp, reader is implied floridian, implied childhood friends to lovers, sunburns, fluffy intimacy
summary: it’s been too long since y/n has been back in the states and she is NOT used to the florida sun like she used to be, but don’t worry, logan knows how to take care of her.
word count: 3.5k
author's note: sorry i got soooo carried away with this i don’t know what came over me. this was NOT supposed to be smut but im just a florida girl crushing on a florida boy here y’all lmao. i’m down so bad for this man that i just went kinda crazy. also this was my first time writing smut so pls bare with me. this is inspired by my friend (and fellow logan girly) who just acquired a nasty sunburn lmaoooo. enjoy!!!!
it had been quite a while since you and logan had been back home together. well, not really, but the weather was typically a lot nicer in the winter months than in the spring and summer, and you were not used to it. after you and logan moved to london together full-time, you rarely saw the sun anymore, and your matching pale complexions certainly reflected that sentiment. 
obviously, the miami race weekend was a big deal for the whole sargeant camp. aunts, uncles, cousins, childhood friends, and grandparents would be making their short trip down i-95 to see logan race, but it also meant that you and logan could spend a week together at home, in the sun, in each other’s company. a free vacation of sorts. logan’s parents were busy getting the house ready for the hordes of guests that were to soon occupy the space, so you and logan were more than happy to get out of their hair and into the back yard for some relaxation. 
it was sunday, and you found yourself lounging out on the dock, lost in a romance novel that was probably making you lose brain cells, when you heard a familiar voice calling out to you.
“y/n!”, logan yelled from where him and coco were playing on the grass. “have you been applying sunscreen?” 
you put your book down, letting out a small huff at his question. logan often took a rather paternal role over you, not in a weird or demeaning way, but rather in the sense that he always has your best interest at heart. and you loved that about him, loved how he always wanted to take care of you without being asked. 
you looked down over the chaise longue you were laid out on, thinking there was a bottle of SPF next to your drink, but all that was there was the can of sparkling water you had been nursing. 
“don’t have any; i’ll be okay!” you called back, hoping that would be the end of it.
“you want me to bring you some? it’s no problem,” logan replied, positioning himself to get up off the ground.
“don’t worry about it; i’m coming inside soon anyways!” you half-lied, knowing that logan usually respected your wishes when it came to things like that. you knew you weren’t necessarily telling him the truth, but he knew you and your stubbornness, and he knew it was not his business to try to fix it. 
another few hours had passed, and logan and the dog had long gone inside to find something else to do. you had stayed out, vowing to finish your book in one sitting. as you closed it, you stood up from the lounger, grabbing your long-abandoned can from the ground, wrapping yourself in the towel that you had been laying on, making your way back into the comfort of the house – and the air conditioning.
walking in through the kitchen, you pass logan’s mom, who was cooking dinner for the family. 
“oh sweetie, looks like you got some color on you!” she exclaims, chopping up some vegetables. 
“yeah, it’s been a minute since i’ve had time to tan! i missed the florida sunshine too much.”
“well, logan’s in his room, and dinner’s in about an hour if you’d like to freshen up,”  mrs. sargeant said sweetly, motioning towards the hallway towards logan’s room.
upon your arrival, logan moved his laptop out of his lap and onto the bed next to him. you took the towel off your shoulders, leaving you in just your bikini, when logan’s eyes went wide with shock.
“what, it’s not like you haven’t seen me in a bikini before?” you quipped, reacting to his sudden change of expression. 
“y/n, you are bright red, like ferrari red,” logan replied, serious as a heart attack. you make your way to the vanity over his dresser, taking in your current state. logan was right. you were burnt. 
“what the fuck dude, i swear i wasn’t out there that long,” you snapped, poking and prodding yourself in the mirror, letting out a wince when you stumbled over a particularly sensitive area.
logan gets off his spot on the bed, making his way towards you, joining you in front of the mirror. his hands immediately fall to your hips out of instinct, but he makes sure not to grab too tightly due to your new look.
“baby,” he says, placing his chin onto your shoulder. you let out another wince, reacting to his touch. “i told you to wear sunscreen. now look at you, my little lobster…”
“this isn’t funny,” you pout, and he leans forward to place a chaste kiss on your lips. you spin around in his arms, now facing him face-to-face rather than through the mirror. 
“stop pouting baby, and go hop in the shower, please. the sooner you get some cold water on you, the better you’ll feel. i can feel the heat radiating off you from here,” logan said with a giggle. his hands linger around your ass, and he gives a slight smack to send you on your way, which elicits a shrill yelp from you due to the sensitivity of the area. 
“are you at least going to join me?” you question as you make your way to his en suite, stopping in the door frame with your arms crossed across your chest. logan lets out another giggle.
“and listen to you whine the whole time? no thanks, plus i showered like an hour ago,” he replies, which garners a predictable whine from you.  “if you make it quick, i might have something that can help you,” he adds, and you turn on your heel into the bathroom, shutting the door with a slam. 
and he was right; the shower hurt like hell, but you know that had he been there, you wouldn’t have been able to properly soak in the cold water, so you silently curse him for being right. 
you walk back into logan’s room, wrapped in your towel, when you see him sitting on the bed, scrolling mindlessly on his phone. he hears you approach, putting his phone down and grabbing the clear bottle off the bed next to him. 
“i found you aloe; well, my mom did. she said your burn is one of the worst she’s seen,” logan said, presenting the bottle to you like it was a participation trophy. 
“is that supposed to make me feel better or worse, logie?” you questioned, feigning offence from his comment. 
“well, the comment probably won’t, but hopefully the aloe does,” he replied. “c’mere, baby,” he cooed, his arms outstretched, welcoming you into his arms. you take your spot on his lap, legs draped over his thigh, wrapping your arms around his neck to keep you in place. logan places a kiss to the bridge of your nose, and along your cheeks, leaning in to admire the newly-formed freckles that were threatening to peak out from underneath the harsh redness of your skin. 
“your freckles are back; reminds me of when we were little, trying to catch fish with my dad in the backyard. you were so bad at it; still are to be honest, but it’s okay because you still look cute trying to bait a hook,” he laughs, his breath giving a cooling sensation to your cheeks, and you wish he would keep talking just to feel his breath against your skin. 
“logan, baby, the aloe?” you suggest, knowing that the time he’s wasting is killing you. all you crave is the feeling of the lotion on you, and his hands being the ones to apply it. 
“sorry, didn’t mean to get sentimental on you, just being here with you makes me think about stuff like that. i sometimes wish we could go back…” logan trails off, and you know what he’s thinking about. he often thinks about the memories of you growing up, how much he missed you when he moved away to the uk, and what it meant to get you back. you like to think of those moments too, sometimes, but he often gets in his head about it. 
“i know,” you coo, lifting a hand up to card through the longer hair on the back of his neck, as a way to soothe him.
he lifts the bottle of aloe up towards you. 
“may i?” he asks, cocking an eyebrow up in an inquisitive way.
“of course you may. how do you want me?” you ask, a mischievous look in your eye.
“do not say it like that, you minx,” logan shot back, your innuendo catching him by surprise. 
“keep talking crazy like that, and we might have a problem,” he snapped, although with no actual malice behind it. “you can lay on your tummy first, though, and i’ll go from there, if that’s okay,” he said, his expression softening as he looked at you. 
you climb out of his lap and onto your stomach on the bed next to him, and he straddles your back to get the proper angle. 
“this okay?” he asks, tugging slightly at the towel that is still loosely wrapped around your back. 
“log, you’ve seen me naked countless times; of course it’s okay,” you quip, turning your head so he can see the side of your face. he leans down, planting a sloppy kiss to your cheek, blowing a raspberry there. this elicits a giggle from you, wriggling underneath him. 
logan drags the towel down your body slowly, his fingers barely grazing your warm, sensitive skin, standing up on his knees to pull it out from under you. 
“i know we aren’t having sex or anything, but could you at least take your shirt off or something? this feels too clinical,” you say, causing logan to burst out laughing above you.
“you are not a real person, i swear to god,” he quips, pulling his shirt over his head in one quick motion. “is that better, princess?” he says sarcastically, using the nickname he only gives you when you’re acting like a handful. 
between your fits of giggles, you let out a “mhm” that signals to logan that he is free to proceed. this evokes an eye roll from logan that you catch out of the corner of your eye. 
his attitude doesn’t last long, however, because before you can protest, his lips find your shoulder blade, peppering kisses along the top of your back, feeling his stubble graze across your skin. it burns, but feels so good at the same time.
���so sweet for me, logie,” you groan, melting into his touch. he reaches for your hair, still damp from the shower, to move it out of his way, as he makes his way across the plane of your body.  
all he can manage is a drawn out “hmmmmm” as he feels the warmth of your skin along his cheek. 
he pulls away suddenly, and you whimper at the loss of contact from him. 
“i know, i know,” he cooes, and you hear the bottle of lotion being opened just out of your periphery. 
his hands make contact with your skin again, feeling the sensation of the cool liquid as he massages it in. his strong hands make their way up and down your back, causing you to arch only slightly, if it wasn’t for him sitting squarely on your ass. 
“you’re killing me, logan,” you half-whisper, his actions genuinely taking your ability to speak at a regular volume, the intimacy of it all being just a little too much for you. 
“feels good, huh?” he asks, and although you can’t see it, you can tell that he’s cocked his eyebrow at you, and you’re surprised he’s been able to behave himself this long. 
his hands work swiftly, massaging the liquid in with long, deft fingers, the sensation driving you crazy.
“logan, i want you, please,” you whine, looking up over your shoulder to meet his gaze, your eyes softening in an almost begging manor. 
“i thought you said we weren’t–” 
“i lied. i’m a liar. i need you right now,” you beg, as logan stands back up on his knees to allow you to roll over underneath him, him now settled on your thighs.
“fuck, baby, i can’t say no to you,” he huffs, not sure exactly how to make the next move. he looks down at you splayed out in front of him, taking in the sight before him. a hand reaches down to caress down your chest, fingers grazing slightly over your nipple, causing your breath to hitch. 
“we have to make it quick, okay? can you be good for me?” he asks, his hand lingering on your left breast. 
you let out a whimper, shaking your head slightly.
“words, baby,” he sighs, his fingers massaging into the tissue of your chest. 
“yes, i’ll do whatever you want,” you whisper, unable to find your voice with how turned on you were. 
“that’s my pretty girl,” logan cooes, leaning down to place a kiss on your lips, adjusting himself so he’s slotted between your legs. the kiss deepens, his tongue finding its way into your mouth, as he swallows your muffled moans, trying to avoid the awkward conversation with his mom later. 
“gotta be quiet, baby,” he whispers, his hand running up and down your side, the warmth of his hand searing your sensitive skin.
“god, i feel like we’re in high school again,” you say, rolling your eyes at him.
“except i wasn’t nearly as good then as i am now, though,” he smirks, diving down to leave a trail of kisses from the corner of your mouth to the base of your neck, softly nibbling on your pulse point. 
“are you gonna prove it?” you ask, trying to rile him up.
this question evokes something in him, his breath against your skin coming hot and sudden, and you could feel the deep exhale from his nose.
leaning up to your ear, he whispers, “you are such a brat.”
the sensation from the whisper mixed with the sting of his words sends a shock straight to your core. he’s not always the best at dirty talk, but he still somehow knows exactly what to say and when to say it. 
“touch me, logan,” you manage to squeak out, your breath growing heavier the more you took in his words, and he was eager to oblige.
with that, the hand that found comfort on your hip trailed its way down between your bodies, grazing the softness of your stomach, fingers oh-so-gently teasing your folds. 
“so wet, huh? so worked up for me? you drive me so fucking crazy, you know that?” he growls, his voice rasping as he begins rubbing small circles against your clit with his thumb. “one or two, baby?” he asks, and you know exactly what he means. 
“two, please”, you whine into his mouth, body arching up into him before he even has the chance to touch you properly. 
“good girl, take it so well,” he groans, sliding two fingers into your cunt, almost too slowly. his voice is almost unrecognizable, the threat of being too loud taking over. his thumb continues its pattern on your clit.
you feel the tension building as he fucks his hand in and out of you, but not before you feel him slowing his pace down.
“i know you wanna come now baby, but we don’t have long. i’m gonna stop, and we can come together, okay?”, he half-whispers. 
his hand moves from its spot between your thighs back up toward your lips, as he rests his fingers on your bottom lip, cocking his eyebrow at you. 
“o-okay,” you squeak out, and with that, his fingers push past your lips, urging you to suck them clean, and you oblige, swirling your tongue around his digits, tasting yourself on his fingers. 
your hands trail down between you two, your fingers dipping underneath his shorts and boxers, toying with the waistband. 
logan removes his fingers from your mouth, opting to move back to your jawline, planting lingering kisses along the bone.
“quit teasing, baby, want you on top. let me see those pretty tits of yours, yeah?”, he smirks, knowing that him complimenting your body drives you crazy in the best way. 
you oblige with a searing kiss to his lips, opting to pull his shorts down in one motion, cock bobbing free and slapping across his stomach. he reaches down to finish taking them off, throwing them on the floor with your long-abandoned towel. 
he rolls you both over with ease, you now on top. your fingertips graze his chest, down to his abs, grabbing his cock and giving it a few quick pumps to make sure he’s ready. 
“ready, log?” you ask, your hands now on either side of his head, his blue eyes sparkling back up at you, your hips and ass now up in the air waiting for his cue. 
he leans up to chase your lips, trying to kiss you, just out of his reach. 
“please, baby, i can’t take it much more,” he begs, using his arms to pull you down to him, sinking down on him, and meeting his lips with yours. now it’s his turn to moan into your mouth. 
“fuuuuuck,” is all he’s able to get out, his hands finding their way to your hips, trying to help you relieve the lack of sensation. Your hips roll for the first time over him, and his hips immediately buck up into you.
“patience, baby. i thought i was the desperate one?” your words go right to his cock, making him buck up once again, making you speed up your motions. you feel the effects of his desperation on your body, the coil in your stomach winding tighter with every bounce on his cock.
“fuck, you’re close, baby; so am i,” logan pants, the physicality of it all catching up to him. he knows your body so well; he can always tell when you’re about to come. 
with his observation, you lean back with your hands behind you on his thighs, your hips continuing to roll against his body, eliciting a low, grumbling moan from logan. he loved you like that, all cock-drunk and lazy on top of him. it also meant that he had a perfect view of your tits, both his hands reaching to grab at them as he continued fucking up into you. 
“these are so fucking perfect. all mine. i can’t believe you’re all mine, baby,” logan pants, both of your movements becoming lazier, as he rolls your nipples in between his fingers, feeling your already-tight walls close in on his cock.
you can feel your orgasm quickly approaching with his presence on your tits, and you know that he isn’t going to last long, either. you lean forward, diminishing the space between you two, giving logan the opportunity to bear hug you. his thrusts up into you send you over the edge, your orgasm ripping through you, causing you to let out a muffled moan onto his right pec. your vision goes slightly blurry for a second until you hear a grunted “fuck, baby”, followed by the feeling of logan’s hips sputtering underneath you. he comes shortly after you, spilling into you. 
You collapse onto his chest, your highs riding out together. he doesn’t loosen his grip around your back, planting a sweet kiss to the top of your forehead, pulling out as you lay pitifully on his chest.
“so good for me, baby, so sweet. fuck, i’m so lucky,” he whispers, rubbing your back where, just a few minutes earlier, he was applying aloe lotion. he rolls you both over so that you’re now facing each other on your sides. 
you reach a hand up to caress his face, feeling the stubble from a week’s worth of no races, the hair rough against your smooth palm. 
“logie, you fucked me so good i almost forgot about this damn sunburn,” you giggled, “but now we’re done and it just hurts again!”
“guess that means i’ll just have to fuck you again,” logan smirked, burying his head into the crook of your neck, eliciting more giggles from you. you begin to hook your leg over his thigh, bringing you even closer, pulling him in for a passionate kiss. you almost begin the cycle over again until you hear a knock on the door that has you both frozen in your tracks. 
“dinner!” you hear his mom cheer from the other side of the door, and then her footsteps clearly walking back down the hall towards the kitchen. 
“guess not,” you teased, eliciting an eye roll from logan, who quickly gets up to pull you into the bathroom to get cleaned up. 
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carpisuns · 1 year
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Flapjack flutters from the head of the wolf to perch on Hunter's shoulder, nuzzling against his cheek one last time, twittering a gentle Hunter is loved by Flapjack always, before flying back over to land on Caleb's shoulder.
"I'm very happy to have met you, Hunter," Caleb tells him, genuine pride shining in his eyes. "Live a long and happy life for all of us, would you?"
—“A New Familiar”
This fic was so warm and emotional and it has stuck with me since I read it! Thank you @fairytales-and-folklore for writing it💕
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o-cinnamonstickz · 11 months
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A while back @naffeclipse answered a question from @boxofcreampuffs’s asking: “what would the boys do if they lost their vessel?” (This post)
@pure-plum came up with the adorable idea of the hunter sewing up a rag doll for the boys to settle in while they searched for a more suitable vessel for both the boys and their little hunter to enjoy.
Needless to say I fell in love with the concept and jumped to draw it immediately XD
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cowardlykrow · 2 months
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“I let him die / Taking your advice”
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honeydewtual · 1 month
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YUTAxLOUISVUITTON FOR COMMON&SENSE MAN
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ballpointpensuperfan · 5 months
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More Ace Attorney Shuichi!!! These Ace Attorney style animations are fun, definitely want to do more.
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lavender-temult · 3 months
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movie night in their box!
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wundrousarts · 11 months
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if you're still taking requests, maybe archan, mahir, or francis? i love them all so much and they're very underrated. only if you want to! your art is the best part of the fandom.
I like doing requests as warmups or chances to experiment or etc. so you are always free to send them in and there’s a good chance I’ll get around to it eventually! Anyways, I just went ahead and drew them all lol 👍
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I still need to figure out their designs further, but I think this is a good start… I don’t think I’ve ever properly drawn any of them. Every year around 9/19 I set out to draw a 919 lineup and it never ever happens, so I’m glad I could still share how I see them this way :)
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swordfright · 1 year
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i am enjoying the rabbit fic by @simplepotatofarmer
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randomrandy · 10 months
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Random post: “reblog if you *thing I agree with”
My brain: if you reblog this you’re a virtue sighing whore who just wants internet clout. If you don’t reblog this you’re a heartless monster who should be shot in the street. Kys
Me: wtf
#originally I had this big long post explaining my complex feelings about posts like these#cause they do cause me a not constructive or reasonable amount of stress#but I’m very much aware that my reaction to them is not normal and very much colored by my ocd#the person who made it and the people who rebloged it probably did not intend for me to be reacting this way#there isn’t any malicious intent. most people don’t want or expect stranger on the internet to have panic attacks over tumblr posts#I don’t blame anyone for making or rebloging them.#I also don’t know if it’s even right for me to ask people not too? it’s not they’re responsibility to cater to my weird needs#so I just block and filter as much stuff as I can to try and avoid it#cause if I didn’t my entire blog would be them and I’d have to delete tumblr cause it would be actively detrimental to my mental health#but every once in a while one sneaks through. cause people will censor words or not tag stuff#or make posts that don’t follow the standard format#so I’ll see if and probably reblog it cause I don’t want to deal with the overwhelming guilt and subsequent panic attack#(this is not a good thing and will only make stuff worse btw)#and it’ll suck#but I don’t think it’s fair to hold a stranger responsible for that#but it still sucks#and I don’t know what to do about or how to feel about them#okay so the whole post ended up in the tags anyways sorry#there’s no conclusion or lesson to this I’m just ruminating#which is also not good sooo#moral ocd#ocd#actually ocd#vent#ramble#kind of both I guess?#might delete this later#if I remember
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rosicheeks · 1 year
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From the fun asks - 1, 31, 46, 71?
1: when you have cereal, do you have more milk than cereal or more cereal than milk?
more cereal 🥰
31: what is your opinion of socks? do you like wearing weird socks? do you sleep with socks? do you confine yourself to white sock hell? really, just talk about socks.
Ohhhhhhhh I’ll go off in the tags about socks 🥰
46: tell us the worst pun you can think of.
Gee-I’m-a-tree 🤦🏽‍♀️😂
71: what’s your favorite kind of tea?
Honestly I’m not a huge tea person. Mainly cause I haven’t tried many and I want to try them but they expensive and I’m scared I won’t like it hahaha
#honestly I’m not 100% if I do more cereal I think it depends on what kind I’m having#if I’m really craving it I fill my cup all the way up#and yes I said cup cause I like to eat my cereal out of a cup or mug 🥰#ok ok ok SOCKS where do I begin I guess I’ll start with the original questions and if I have anything to add haha#I loooooove socks 🥰 my feet are very particular hahaha and I need to wear a very specific type of sock#like i don’t necessarily mean a specific brand but like sometimes I put my feet into socks and I instantly take them out cause the texture -#is bad or it’s too tight or idk#my ex always made fun of me for my specific sock *things*#I used to be a looooot worse#like I would have to wear the same brand BUT not the same sock cause obviously young rosie thought that was bad luck#so I would refuse to wear the same sock buuut I’d have to wear the same brand or kind of that makes sense???#and then I would want to try and match up pretty colors that worked together hahahaha I’m really weird shhh#also I LOVE fuzzy socks#but uhm I have to wear my normal socks under them cause I can’t stand the texture on my feetsys#but I love how warm and fuzzy they are!#I do sleep with socks if you couldn’t guess from my previous tags hahaha idk when I became so obsessed with socks#I refuse to wear white socks nope sorry#I remember my geometry teacher telling me this pun in like freshman year of high school???#I would LOVE to be a tea person omg#I have a collection of mugs and when I move I want to start collecting more cause cute mugs are 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰#I remember when I was more into vocal training I would drink tea and lemon water#ahhhh the days#I should go back to that I miss it#thank you for the questions lovely!!!#wishing you a lovely day/night 🥰#ask#lovely mutuals
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attourney-at-lycan · 1 year
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a remake of my aphverse ocs in pdh w/ the gacha app but modded!
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these are the older ones btw just for a comparison
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1-ufo · 1 month
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I feel like I can understand the way Matt Bellamy’s brain works in terms of music creation.
It wouldn’t shock me at all if he ever came out and said that he just hears music in his head like almost all of the time or hears it if he closes his eyes.
Because as an artist I can close my eyes and see color combinations a lot. I close my eyes as I’m going to sleep and ideas just float across my proverbial vision so clearly. I can look at things irl and overlay or imagination “enhance” the colors of it. Make that blue a little more purple. Give that tan a pinkish tinge. Beautify the ordinary right in my head and almost nearly before my eyes.
And I think, had I been better at music, had I been able to learn to count music to have a more innate rhythmic understanding of the stuff that I’d be able to do the same thing with music because every once in awhile, I DO do that with music.
It’s rare. Really really rare. But every once in awhile I will wake up from a dream in which my brain magically composed a song out of nothing. A song that does not exist in the real world. And almost always slips away as I wake up but it’s there long enough for me to realize exactly what happened and it always astounds me because I certainly spent many years in music. Learning piano and playing in an orchestra, but I’ve always felt there’s something in me that is blocked in that department by just the way that my body, my being, IS. I’ve radically accepted that when numbers get involved in anything even in the simplest of ways, which to be sure, is an absolute when it comes to music even in an instinctual way, I am slightly disabled in the brain by it.
I practiced music a lot. I picked almost all of it up by ear, similar to the way he also learned. I can read music but I can’t really sight read. I can read the notes but I can’t read the rhythm until I hear it first. Rhythmic clapping exercises don’t tend to help me very much. And in playing in groups I do tend to come in a fraction of a second late, which is unnoticeable to almost anyone when you’re playing in groups.
Yet despite this disability I still chaired quite high in the upper level orchestra at our school. I qualified for the regional orchestra that had the best of the best in region (though in that department my disabilities placed me where I truly belonged. The back of second violin lol. I was simply too busy between school, dance practice and work to put in the practice needed to get up to that level with only four practice sessions before the performance which we played at the intended pace as the music was written. I was truly an imposter in my orchestra class that got away with a lot from my by ear talent. Fully admitted that.)
But knowing that my brain is, on a rare occasion, capable of creating full compositions like that- I feel like it MUST come as easily to someone like Matt Bellamy as colors come to me. Right?
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navybrat817 · 5 months
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I wish I had a smitten Bucky. Just sees me and wants me. 🥺
I know the feeling, nonnie.
Check Yes or No
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Summary: Bucky instantly falls for you, but waits to ask you out.
Word Count: Over 2.1k
Warnings: Fluff, could be seen as instalove on Bucky's side, attraction, slight insecurities, minor time jump, Alpine being the best, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).
A/N: I can't send Bucky your way, lovelies, so I hope you enjoy this short, surprise fic! ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
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Bucky wasn't looking for love the day he met you, but it found him anyway.
“Hey, Buck,” Steve greeted from his seat when he walked into the conference rooms and nodded to the spot beside him that you occupied. “I’d like you to meet our newest transfer. She’s also moving into the Tower.”
He was a changed man the moment your eyes met. Breathtaking was a word to describe you given how he had forgotten to breathe. He had witnessed many sunrises and sunsets in his life, a kaleidoscope of colors painted in the sky to both soothe and awaken the soul. They paled in comparison to the beauty before him.
One glance and he belonged to you completely.
“Hi, Bucky. It’s nice to meet you.”
While he wasn't sure if Heaven existed, you speaking his name was like hearing the voice of an angel.
“I’m Bucky.”
Of all the things he could've said, reiterating his name was what his mouth went with.
Instead of giving him a weird look or brushing him off when he scowled at himself, you smiled. “I look forward to us working together.”
Bucky couldn't tell you what the meeting was about that day, but he remembered the details about you. The way you leaned forward in your seat to pay extra attention when someone else spoke, also giving him an ample view of your chest before he reminded himself not to stare. The slight crease in your forehead when you jotted down an important note. And the soft giggle you let out when Steve cracked a joke.
He suddenly wished he was funnier.
“Have a good rest of the day, Bucky,” you said when the meeting ended.
Bucky didn't have to try to smile with you. It just came naturally. When you smiled back, it was easy to imagine what it would be like if you were his girl.
“You, too,” he replied, giving himself a mental victory for not screwing up his words this time. “Wait!”
You paused and looked at him expectantly. “Yeah?”
Bucky realized he had no reason to keep you from leaving. He just didn't want you to go. “Do you need help moving your stuff in?”
“I actually got my things moved in late last night, but thanks for the offer,” you replied, checking the time with wide eyes. “I'm so sorry. I have to go. I’m in 2L if you need anything!”
“Bye,” he called after you, turning in his chair to watch you go.
How did he miss you already?
Though Steve had a knowing look in his eyes, he graciously kept his mouth shut as he left the room. He reminded him an hour later that he wouldn't break any bylaws by asking you out. The punk somehow knew that you weren't seeing anyone.
Which made him happy.
While he appreciated Steve looking out for happiness, he still had to get his head on straight.
“Once I completely trust my own mind, maybe I will,” Bucky said, even though the stuff was already out of his head. He owed it to himself to take his time. And you.
Imagine his surprise when he found a note from you on his door the next day.
Hey, Bucky! Lunch on me today? Check YES or NO.
The lopsided grin on his face wouldn't go away when he read it again. You must've been interested in him enough to ask about him. How else did you know his apartment number? Why else would you ask him to lunch?
He nearly shouted “YES” in the hall before he came to his senses and simply checked the option before he returned the note to your apartment door.
When he met up with you later, he told himself it wasn't a date. It couldn't be, right? It didn't keep his heart from stopping when you answered your door. Dressed down and casual, you looked like an angel went to Earth just for him.
“Hey, Bucky,” you smiled. “Ready to go?”
He hadn't said much on the way to the cafe since he was too busy hanging on to your every word, but it was like he had known you for ages as you carried on the conversation. Your questions weren't invasive and you didn't seem to mind the occasional short answers. It was also the shortest meal of his life, over too soon for his liking, and he also refused to let you pay for his meal.
He wanted to show you that gentlemen still existed.
“Lunch again next week?” You offered.
“Sure,” he answered, his head spinning from giddiness.
But it wasn't a date.
It was time to change that.
Today was the day. Six months from the day he met you. Six months of chatting with you between missions and slowly getting to know you over weekly lunches. Six months of falling for you more and more each day and he finally worked up the courage to ask you out.
But falling was the easy part. Confessing was an entirely different story. He would either crash to the ground and hope his wounds would later heal or you’d catch him as he fell. No matter what, he wouldn't let his nerves get the better of him.
“Just like we practiced, okay?” Bucky asked.
“Meow.”
Alpine nuzzled her head against Bucky’s with a gentle purr when he huffed. She was his little partner-in-crime through and through. Like you, even though you didn't realize it, the little white ball of fur helped save him. He was fairly certain he wasn't supposed to bring her to this floor, but any reprimand would be worth it.
Besides, the Tower, office, anywhere they operated should allow them to have their pets with them, especially for emotional support.
“I'm counting on you,” he teased, placing the folded up piece of paper in her mouth. “Go.”
He peeked around the corner when he set Alpine down. The sun illuminated you from where you sat in the lounge, curled up in your normal spot on the sofa. You liked to relax there occasionally to read. He wondered what book you had with you today.
Thankfully, no one was around to disturb you.
Except for him.
“Alpine, is that you?” You asked when you looked up, closing the book as the cat approached you. While the feline was cautious of some, she warmed up to you immediately when you met and solidified that you were the one for him. “Whatcha got there? Where’s Bucky?”
His name spilling from your lips was still one of his favorite sounds.
He held his breath when Alpine jumped up beside you, opened her mouth, and dropped the paper in your lap. He immediately began to second guess himself when you unfolded it with a furrowed brow. Why did he think this was a good idea? Why didn't he just ask you like a normal guy?
To be fair, he hadn't been normal for some time.
“Will you go out with me? Check YES or NO. Love, Bucky,” you read out loud with a huge smile, which was enough to make his heart race. You giggled a moment later when Alpine bumped your hand, the soft noise making his stomach do a funny sort of flip. “Okay, okay. Let me get my pen out of my bag.”
Bucky exhaled a little as he moved to stand in the doorway. You didn't toss the paper away, so that had to be a good sign. He carefully kept himself from showing any outward emotion when you met his gaze, but his knees nearly gave out. His palms also began to sweat when you gave him a half smile.
Just when he thought you couldn't look more beautiful than you had the day before, you proved him wrong.
He ran a hand through his hair and hoped he looked halfway decent since he hadn't brushed it. But you commented a few weeks back that you liked it long when you saw an old photo, so he wanted to grow it out. He lost count of how many times he imagined your fingers in his hair
Maybe one day.
Watching you grab your pen, it was like he was drowning. The tide pulled him under as you made a mark on the sheet. His lungs burned when you handed it back to Alpine. He couldn't come up for air. He couldn't breathe.
Until you smiled again.
“Thanks, Alpine,” you said.
His cat gracefully walked back to Bucky and he swore he caught you trying not to giggle as she climbed up his leg. His heart hammered in his chest when he took the slip of paper from her mouth. Meeting your tender gaze, he couldn't bring himself to open it though.
After he told himself he wouldn't let his nerves get the better of him.
“Not going to see what my answer is?” You asked as he carried Alpine into the lounge.
“I want to,” he replied, sighing as he took a seat beside you. His cat was perfectly content to lay in his lap. “But I’m questioning if I did this the right way.”
The note you gave him for a simple lunch request may have been a small gesture in your eyes, but it meant the world to him. He thought by asking you out this way that he could give you something meaningful in return. Something that only the two of you shared.
That was all he wanted.
You turned toward him, your knee touching his. The small touch sent heat down his spine. “Open it and you’ll find out.”
He nodded, thankful that his vibranium hand didn't shake as he lifted the sheet. “Wait, let me say something before I do.”
The corner of your lip tugged as you tried not to smile. “Bucky-”
“I like you. I really like you. I have since the day we met. And I'm going to like you tomorrow. And the day after that and the day after that,” he admitted in a rush, catching your sharp inhale as he looked into your eyes. “But I know my past isn't easy to deal with. If you just want to be a teammate or colleague, that’s okay. Just. Being a part of your life in some way is more than enough.”
Alpine lifted her head and looked between the two of you, as if she was waiting with baited breath to see what would happen next.
Bucky felt a crack in his heart when you didn't speak or react, his body slumping slightly into the couch. It was okay. He took a chance and told you how he felt. He wouldn't force you to reciprocate.
“Bucky?” You asked above a whisper, reaching over to help him unfold the paper. He gasped when he saw the checkmark beside “YES”, blinking rapidly to make sure you picked that box. “I really like you, too.”
“You do?” He exhaled, grasping your hand with renewed joy. He was careful not to squeeze too hard. Hurting you was the last thing he ever wanted to do.
“Yeah. Pretty much since the day I met you,” you admitted, glancing in your lap before you met his gaze again. He saw stars in your eyes. “And your past isn't your fault, Bucky. You aren't something to ‘deal with’, okay? You’re a good man. I can give you a whole list of reasons if you need it.”
Physically, Bucky’s body was in peak condition. Your confession, however, caused all of the air to leave his lungs and made him weak in the best possible way. A familiar warmth moved through Bucky’s veins as he breathed again and it dawned on him at that moment that he hadn't felt cold since you walked into his life.
Not once.
Your faith in him gave him strength. Your mere existence gave him the courage to try. And he didn't have to go it alone.
“Wow,” he breathed, relieved and elated as he gave you a small smile. “How about tomorrow night?”
“It’s a date,” you smiled.
“Great,” he smiled back. A date. He couldn't wait to see the look on Steve's face when he told him that he finally asked you out.
“And I think the note was purrfect,” you teased at Alpine before you scrunched up your face. “I ruined the moment, didn't I?”
Bucky brought your hand to his mouth, kissing it as gently as he possibly could. He could hear your heart race. So was his. “Not at all.”
He knew it was too soon to say he loved you and it was likely too soon for you to feel that way about him, but he felt hope in your smile that you would one day.
For now, he had a date to plan all because you checked “yes”.
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We know it'll be the best date ever, right? Love and thanks for reading! 💙
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
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helluvapoison · 3 months
Note
Saw your preening hcs!!! They're so cute, I love the way you write!!!
How about the same characters helping a reader preen their wings? That would be so awesome :3333
Lend A Helping Hand
Lucifer, Adam, Lute, Vaggie and Husk help reader with preening
warnings: possible innacurate bird knowledge, heaven headcanons (also probably innacurate) illusions to sexual behavior but it’s not
[i]
ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ
˚✧₊⁎ Lucifer ⁎⁺˳✧༚
• Seeing you uncomfortable physically hurts him, he has a knee jerk reaction to clutch his heart
• Lucifer’s preemptive when it comes to you, checking your wings around the same time he feels his wings molt
• Dramatically smacks a hand to his forehead, “I can’t believe I didn’t notice! Shit! Oh, duckie, I’m so sorry.”
• Praises you the whole way through, like you’re undergoing a dangerous surgery while wide awake
• Obscenely gentle when handling your wings
• You’ll receive only the utmost care from him!
• That being said, he gets distracted towards the end. Petting your feathers, admiring their color
• “You’re so prett—pretty feathers! You have pretty feathers! Aha.” Lucifer’s nervous chuckle fades as he focuses once more
• He’s more than thorough, quadruple checking his work and asking if you feel better yet
• (Tell him he did a good— no, a great job)
• “A thousand times better, thank you,”
• “Just a thousand?” Lucifer grins cheekily
• “Alright, alright, a million. And here I was worried you’d get a big head over it.”
˚✧₊⁎ Adam ⁎⁺˳✧༚
• “Sucks, amiright?” His voice lacks any sympathy.
You’re sure if you looked, he’d be wearing that punchable smirk
“Go. Away.”
“Yikes, tense much?”
Normally you had more patience than this. Today you were in no mood, whipping around and shooting him a deadly glare
“Adam!”
• Surrendering his hands, Adam turns and leaves, swearing that would be the end of it until your bitchiness subsided
• It’s not like it bothers him to see your nose scrunch in pain or dragging your hands down your face in irritation
• He blames you for turning him into a liar
• “If you make it weird—!”
“Yeah, yeah, you’ll hit me or something. Try being original next time. Now shut up so I can help you. Fuck, you’re just as bad as Lute.”
• Adam is eerily silent. In the mirror you can see his tongue poking out in concentration
• He’s uncharacteristically soft when handling your feathers
• “There,” He dusts his hands together, “Now you can’t say Adam never did nothin’ for you.”
• Fucking flabbergasted when you thank him. Outloud. Oh, you’re never living this down
˚✧₊⁎ Lute ⁎⁺˳✧༚
• Treats the matter like an inconvenience, a chore that just has to be done
• “If I don’t help you, we’ll never get back on schedule,” Lute’s tone leaves no room for arguments
• Her hands shoving into your shoulders and forcing you to sit before her
• Despite this, her touch alone is mercy on your wings
• You didn’t know she knew the meaning of the word gentle until now
• Lute is diligent in all she does
• For the briefest, most minuscule of moments she thinks she has a grasp on sin. As innocent as it is, she’s not supposed to be helping you
• She won’t let you ruin her reputation
• She doesn’t dare let her fingertips linger on your feathers (no matter how loudly they sing to her)
• Lute acts as if you’ve burned her when she’s done
• “Thank—“ She’s already storming away, cheeks glowing red. From anger, embarrassment or other, you’ll not find out today, “—you.”
˚✧₊⁎ Vaggie ⁎⁺˳✧༚
• Honestly, she wasn’t going to offer at first
• Vaggie would prefer to forget about her time in Heaven altogether and helping you with your wings proves triggering, though not so terrible she can’t
• Not when the need to help outweighs her guilt
• You look so damn pitiful!
• “Here, hold still,” Vaggie sighs softly as she approaches
• She waits for you to go relax and accept the offer hanging in the air before touching your wings
• Vaggie’s touch is sweet and hesitant, almost treating your feathers like you’re made of porcelain
• “You ok?” She asks as she twists her fingers around the hardened shell, breaking the pin feather
• You smile at her over your shoulder, “Yeah. You’re much better at this than me.”
• Vaggie breathes out a light laugh, “I’ve had more practice. It’s… easier with someone else too, I guess.”
• Significantly less nervous when she’s done
•Next time, she’ll definitely offer her assistance sooner
˚✧₊⁎ Husk ⁎⁺˳✧༚
• He startles you, making you jump when you thought you were alone
• Husk, although he’ll deny it to his double death, made it his job to pay attention to people he cares about
• Watching you walk around uncomfortable, teetering the edge of all too familiar pain was hard to ignore
• “I know those things can be a real bitch.” He points with the bottle he’s holding
• “Are you trying to be sympathetic or stating a fact?”
• “I’ve been around the block a few times,” Husk shrugs, “And I might be offering my services if you need ‘em. Not just good for listening.”
• He almost regrets it when you immediately accept. He looks at his claws, tainted by alcohol and who knows what else, then your wings
• Washes his hands before. Which strikes you as odd because you’ve seen him use a dirty rag to clean glasses at the bar
• He might be qualified but surely you have someone more deserving willing to help you? Someome nicer, someone cleaner, someone better than him?
• Husk isn’t complaining! It’s just his inner thoughts making his hands tremble
• “I owe you a drink for this,” You say sweetly
• Husk hums out a laugh, “Nah. It’s my pleasure,”
~
╰(*´︶`*)╯♡ thank you so mochi, friend! i’m glad you liked them, you read my mind too and gave me an excuse to write these hehe
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ferrstappen · 1 month
Text
SLUT! l MV1 imagine
a/n: hey! I’m alive, I hope some of you are alive as well and willing to read something 💘 this is short and just a random idea I had before diving into writing some longer pieces with more plot, but I really hope you like it and as you know, feedback is very very welcome!!! Also I’m sorry if it’s weird or any mistakes bc I wrote this on my phone 💘
Summary: this isn’t your first time being a WAG, but people don’t seem to like the idea of you ending your relationship with Joe Burrow and falling in love with Max.
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Looking around, you could tell that this wasn't an ordinary place. The sound of engines revving, the vivid colors of various vehicles, and the hustle and bustle of multiple teams, engineers, sponsors, drivers, and fans walking around the paddock all added to the excitement. It was a truly remarkable sight to behold. The energy was palpable, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of awe taking it all in.
In your previous relationship, your boyfriend would make grand entrances at the stadium, sporting his fancy Cartier sunglasses and jamming to his favorite tunes. He wouldn't pay much attention to the photographers snapping away as he strolled past them, and you'd catch a glimpse of him from afar in a lavish suite. That was quite a contrast to your current situation, which you're still adjusting to.
You were greeted by a well-dressed individual who was sporting the logos of Red Bull, Oracle, and Honda all over their outfit. They handed you a VIP all-access paddock pass which had your name and headshot printed on it, along with details of whose guest you were. To top it off, they also put a Red Bull credential on your wrist. The assistant then guided you towards the power station, where you were hopping to finally catch Max after weeks of not seeing each other.
You never meant to be in this position. You were in a happy, stable, loving relationship, truly. But last year one night in Las Vegas, your boyfriend, Joe, was invited to the Las Vegas Grand Prix, and of course, you both attended, curious and excited about the event. Neither of you knew it would be the beginning of the end.
Your first meeting with Max was captured on camera.
Max and Joe, the reigning Formula 1 champion and the Cincinnati Bengals quarterback together was gold content for the Red Bull socials, and there you were in the back, knowing your place smiling at the interaction, but when you were least expecting it, the champion stretched his hand and introduced himself, catching you and your boyfriend off guard.
As soon as he spoke, I noticed his friendly yet polite tone. "Hi, I'm Max," he introduced himself with a warm smile. His simple gesture of introducing himself made him instantly likable and set him apart from the others in the crowd.
“Hi Max, I’m (y/n). Thanks for the invitation,” you shook the hand that wasn’t holding a can of Red Bull.
“Right. Max, this is my girlfriend. She’s the happiest here because she’s a Red Bull addict,” Joe added, earning a soft laugh from you and a smile from Max.
“Then you came to the right place, (y/n). The mini fridges are all yours, and I’m pretty sure the ones on the second floor have limited editions,”
You thought that was all you were going to see of him, barely catching him after his win to congratulate him, but oh were you wrong, seeing him with a warm gray pull-up hoodie and styled blond hair, sipping gin and tonic and waving his hand as people chanted his name to the tune of a song.
Tu Tu Du Du, Max Verstappen
Or something along those lines.
The moment he recognized you, a sudden rush of excitement and anticipation sent a buzz through your stomach that was impossible to ignore. You felt a mixture of nervousness and elation as he leaned in for a short cheek kiss, the scent of gin lingering on your nose as you briefly noticed the small mole on his upper lip. Despite the presence of your boyfriend standing behind you, you couldn't help but feel a flutter of emotions inside.
“I heard you ransacked the energy station,” A drunk Max Verstappen told you.
“What do you mean?” Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, and at the same time you felt Joe’s arms tight around your waist.
“There weren't any Red Bulls left on the building after you left, maybe I'll have to send a PR package your way,” Max slurred, taking a new sip from his gin and tonic glass.
You couldn’t answer because Joe was faster: “we’ll sure enjoy that, thank you. Wanna go mingle, babe?”
That was almost five months ago as you made your way in sunny Melbourne, doing your best to avoid prying eyes who were aware of the events that took place last November and how you left Joe Burrow the quarterback for Max Verstappen the racing driver.
But it’s not like you wanted to.
After the first box full of sugar free Red Bull arrived with a note, you left a message on his Instagram before posting a story, tagging him and the team.
The he started sending silly memes, followed by the description of the Red Bull ingredients written in Arabic while on Abu Dhabi.
In February, things had reached a point where it was impossible to ignore any longer. You knew it was time to end things with Joe, and when you did, it felt like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders. Suddenly, you were free to do as you pleased, to go where you wanted to go. And so, when Max invited you to go to Bahrain for testing, you jumped at the opportunity.
It was on this trip that you experienced your first date with Max. You both had such a great time together, laughing until your stomachs hurt. You tried your best to hold back your wandering eyes, but you couldn't help noticing the adorable mole on his lip. And then, when the night sky had blanketed the Middle East, he leaned in and kissed you, sending shivers down your spine. It was a magical moment that you would never forget.
But the next day, your first day on the track, a random person recognized you and rumors went crazy, name-calling, attacks, fans carrying signs “What happened with #9”, grown men calling you a bitch, a whore, a gold digger, jumping from one dick to another. It was so much that Max decided to send you to his home in Monaco, not even caring if you were there for the first Grand Prix of the season, he just needed you to be okay.
As you walked towards the energy station, the ground beneath your feet felt firm, yet your steps were hesitant and shy. You were not alone, though, as someone from the team was following your every move, as per Max's orders. The team wanted to ensure that you were safe and secure as you made your way towards the Red Bull hospitality. Once you arrived, a collective sigh of relief was released, and you waited patiently for Max to arrive. The anticipation in the air was palpable as everyone eagerly awaited his arrival.
You vividly remember that moment when he finally arrived at the paddock, dressed in his Red Bull shirt, shorts, and cap, looking so handsome and sporty. You couldn't help but rush towards him, feeling a surge of excitement and joy. As you hugged him tightly, he smiled and hummed softly, clearly enjoying your touch and warmth. You noticed that he was trying to register your scent, perhaps to make the moment even more intimate and memorable.
You knew he was about to lean in for a cheek kiss, but something inside you urged you to do something bolder and more passionate. So, without hesitating, you turned around, making sure his larger frame was facing the outside, away from prying eyes. Then, you carefully grabbed his face with both hands, feeling his strong jawline and stubble under your fingers. You looked deeply into his eyes, savoring the moment, before leaning in and kissing his full lips.
The kiss was electrifying and unexpected, taking him by surprise, but he quickly responded with equal passion and tenderness. You felt his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you closer, as you lost yourself in the blissful moment. It was a moment of pure connection and love, one that you would always treasure in your heart.
Despite being called all sorts of names by people, you refused to let it get to you. You were determined to continue showing your deep admiration and affection for Max, no matter what others thought or said. You believed that your feelings were genuine and authentic, and you were not going to let anyone else's opinion sway you. Despite the challenges and obstacles you faced, your love for Max remained unwavering and waiting to grow bigger.
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