#i love writing touch starved freaks

[maruyaaya]

need to sleep so bad but i’m literally just thinking about achilles rn

[espinosaurusrexex]

Bad Boys Don't Buy Flowers

CEO!BuckyBarnes x Female!Florist!Reader AU

read Steve's story here

summary: Bucky would have never thought, he’d be chasing after a girl. Not when all of them usually fell at his feet. But when he finds himself entangled in a deal born out of a desperate argument with his assistant, he realizes there is nothing he wouldn't do for you: The independent florist who is adamantly dragging him to the homeless shelter every chance she gets. There is just one problem: Bucky doesn't know how to tell you. And the teasing from his friends is certainly not making things easier for him...

a/n: I should be working instead of writing long ass billionaire love stores, but here we are: you and me both... happy it happened and already regretting the tasks we neglected because of it (please enjoy this wholesome piece of imagination - I know it's long, but I hope you’ll give it a try nonetheless)

word count: 16.4k 😬

warnings: play boy behavior/talk, a reader that knows what she wants, Bucky falls first (and hard 🤭), mentions of war, injuries, and death (all not applying to Bucky for once), just so much fluff, questioning life choices (angst with happy ending!), smut (this is freaking love making okay?!?!? praise and confessions, dry humping, fingering, multiple orgasms, squirting, touch starved Bucky - in a way…, sensual and beautiful, protected p in v, cock warming, and aftercare) !MINORS DNI!

ﾟ✫ 𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 ｡✭･ﾟ✶ 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅 𝒐𝒏 𝐀𝐎𝟑 ✧*･ﾟ𝒄.𝒂𝒊 ｡✭･ﾟ

"Did you place the order?" Bucky leaned back in Steve's office chair and watched as his friend paced the space with a hand in his pocket. 

Steve was grinning like an idiot when the answer on the other side satisfied him and Bucky felt a tiny little spark in his chest at the sight. He'd watched his best friend go through life with a default tension in his shoulders for what seemed like forever. All until he found Bambi - a sweet and incredibly clumsy woman who was formerly his maid. But they found each other and Steve had been a happier man ever since.

Bucky was happy for him, too. He was a lot more fun to be around ever since, but it did remind him that Bucky himself had yet to find the one that would make his heart beat faster. 

It was a ridiculous idea, of course. Bucky was never the one for relationships or long-term commitment in the romantic department. To be honest, he wasn't even sure he was capable of love - not that he needed it, anyway. He had no problem with having a new plaything every other night. It was fun and kept him on his toes. 

"Perfect. Okay. Thanks, Sharon." Bucky sat up straighter in the chair. "Yeah, next Friday. See you later."

Steve sighed as he slumped on the sofa across the room. He watched the ceiling, looking like a love-drunk schoolboy, even though he tried so hard to conceal it. Bucky knew him too well.

"Dinner is booked.”

“You’re really doing it huh?"

“Yup." There was no doubt in Steve’s answer, but rather a special kind of excitement Bucky rarely felt.

The brunette just nodded as he looked to the ground, the chair swaying as he pushed his knees from one side to the other. 

Steve just grinned in response. "So when are you gonna let me help you find the one?"

Bucky perked up, amusement seeping through his gaze when he answered his best friend. ”Me? No no. I’m fine."

Steve shrugged. ”You know, that’s exactly what I said about a year ago."

"No offense, Stevie, but you and I were in vastly different sex universes back then. I’m getting laid - I’m aaaaall good." He leaned back with a smug grin and Steve just frowned in response. "You can be as happy as you want but don’t start trying to get everyone on the girlfriend train. That’s a Rogers and Wilson thing. I don’t need that type of commitment."

Steve remained silent as he watched Bucky stand up and head for the door, a thoughtful look on his face when his friend passed him. 

“Look, I’m happy for you, truly. I just don’t see myself in that type of life.” Bucky’s hand squeezed Steve’s shoulder just as the blonde cocked his head to the side. 

“Never?”

Bucky winked at him. “You know I like to live in the present. But speaking of the future... You’re still up for tomorrow night, right?”

“Tomorrow night?"

"Ironbar."

Steve’s eyes widened. ”Shit. No, I promised Bambi we'd-" Steve stopped when he saw Bucky's eyebrows raise in amusement. “...next time."

Bucky sighed in defeat. "Tell her to leave some Steve time for the rest of us, will ya?" And with a laugh of Steve’s, he shut the office door, walked past Sharon’s desk, then Natasha’s, and then into his own office.

❁ ❁ ❁

The clock hand barely struck 8am when another set of files hit Bucky’s desk. 

Bucky huffed as he watched Natasha stand before him with an amused smile, her hands on her hips that were hugged by a tight pencil skirt. “Looking for something, Boss?”

“No...”

“Something like... the invitation to that business dinner on Thursday?” She mused and carefully pulled a piece of paper from the stack between them. 

Bucky snatched it with a glare. “It would be much more helpful if you sorted this chaos rather than stand here and be a smartass.” He looked at the invite, the familiar company logo printed in the top right corner. “And why are people even sending paper invites anymore? We’re a security firm,” he sat the paper down and tapped on it with his index finger, “just shows how desperately they need consulting.” 

“Don’t blame me for it.” Nat threw her hands in the air. “And stop complaining. I know you’re the cyber guy but a couple papers shouldn’t faze you. I’ve got more important things to do that don’t particularly fall in your area of expertise.” She turned to leave but Bucky stopped her before her heels could reach the threshold. 

“Are you saying your job is harder than mine?” Bucky watched the mess on his desk, then the computer screen with his calendar and the impending meeting with those jackasses from Hydra Enterprises. There was no way sorting a couple of papers could be worse than Alexander Pierce and his nephew Brock Rumlow. One of them barely knew how to send an E-mail and the other kept subtly asking if it was legal to install cameras in the lady’s room. 

“If you’re referring to your inability to sort a couple files, then yes, I assume you wouldn’t last a day with my tasks.” 

“Now that’s bullshit.”

“Is it now?” She raised her left eyebrow with a half-smirk. “I want to see you deal with idiots when scheduling appointments and keeping everyone’s day structured while also organizing the annual fundraiser.”

Bucky huffed, leaning back and crossing his arms before his chest. He averted his eyes from his assistant and the stupid pile of paperwork in front of him. He really did not want to sort through all of that. 

“Call me old fashioned but I believe assistants should sort files.” He shrugged, knowing Natasha wouldn’t let him off that easily. They had been working together for years, he respected her as much as his other friends. And presenting the fierce redhead with a challenge to get out of some annoying tasks was something he would gladly do. 

“I’ll tell you what. I will sort your papers in my assistant duties.” She made a mockery curtsy - as much as her skirt allowed - and then lifted her finger before the smile could spread on Bucky’s face. “If... you plan the charity event.”

Bucky was shocked. He didn’t expect her to play dirty - well to be fair, it wouldn’t be Nat if she weren’t teasing a little bit - but still. “You think you can handle that, boss?” 

Bucky closed his mouth and eyed her suspiciously. It couldn’t be that hard to do. And certainly would be a nice distraction from the impending meeting of doom as well as the following consulting sessions. He let his head fall back and stared at the ceiling. 

Was he really going to trade some papers for a whole Gala? That paperwork really sucked. He loved how easily he could wash through files on his computer. Sadly, his programs didn’t help much in the analog part of the job. 

“Are you backing down, Barnes?” Nat’s teasing voice rang through to him and he snapped back into his attitude. 

“Never.” He stood up, fixed his suit, and then reached his hand toward her. Natasha shook it with an evil smirk. “Always a pleasure doing business with you, Ms. Romanoff.”

And with that, she took the papers from Bucky’s desk and carried them out of his office with a triumphant smile. 

❁ ❁ ❁

It wasn’t long before Bucky regretted his decision. 

What had he been thinking? A Fundraiser... a fucking fundraiser. Bucky couldn’t care less about them. 

Okay, that wasn’t true. He deemed charity to be a very important part of society... and economy. There were times in his life when he was close to needing their help as well. And Bucky swore he’d never let that aspect of his story slip from his mind ever. Still, it didn’t prevent him from living lavishly and making use of the things he had access to now. 

Usually, the organization of the charity gala was stuck on Nat and Sharon. Mainly because they had always done an amazing job. The tabloids had only positive things to write about it and always pushed the number before Christmas even higher. Which urged Bucky even more to do just as good of a job this year. 

There was just one problem. 

He had no idea how to organize events this size. Bucky could program a software from scratch, hack into classified state files on a bad day. Hell, he could track every person’s phone in New York in his sleep. But he never expected to be overwhelmed by a couple invites and color palettes. 

Though as little as he knew about his new task, he liked a challenge, and he would most certainly not give Natasha the satisfaction of asking her for a checklist. 

So, the internet had to do for now. He’d found a blog by a highly motivated suburban mom, that led with step-by-step instructions on how to plan the perfect event. It might not have been on the scale of what Bucky had to do, but considering his lack of knowledge on the topic, he figured this would do until Natasha snatched the task away from him again. 

The first thing on the list was to find a date and venue. But since the gala of Shield Protection Services was always held at the same venue, Bucky figured they had booked it indefinitely for the event. 

Next was to find the perfect florist that ‘is able to put your vision into extravagant floral arrangements’. Yeah... that was another problem. 

Bucky didn’t buy flowers. The only women he deemed important enough in his life to get them were his sister and his mother. And well, both of them had passed away. So, picking the right flowers hadn’t been a problem until now. His mother and sister were always enchanted by the bouquets they received when Bucky was younger. He’d steal them from their neighbor‘s garden. But since he could grow a beard, Bucky hadn’t even touched flowers anymore.

Well, that had to change now. 

Bucky stepped into the elevator just to be greeted by big round eyes and an even wider smile. “Paying Steve a visit?” Bucky teased with a half smile as he hugged Bambi and then faced the doors. 

“I’m actually meeting Natasha for lunch,” she shifted from one foot to the other, “I didn’t realize she was already at the restaurant... so that’s where I’m headed now.”

Bucky chuckled at her slight awkwardness. But it wouldn’t be Bambi if she wouldn’t miss such a detail. 

“Do you need a ride? My driver’s waiting for me anyway.”

“Tha- yes that would be nice, thank you.”

Bucky just nodded and gestured for her to lead the way when they reached the ground floor. 

“Where are you going?” Bambi asked as he stared out the window of the car. They had told the driver where they needed to go. And Since Bucky had no particular destination in mind, it worked out well. 

“I’m on the hunt for the perfect flower shop to cater to my vision of our charity event.” He chuckled and shook his head at his own words. He’s never thought he’d say this.  

Her eyes peered at him with intrigue, a glimmer washing over them when she asked: “Are you taking suggestions?”

Bucky sat up straighter now. “Uh, yes. Gladly.” This was easier than he thought. 

“There is this wonderful shop in Brooklyn. It’s called AsGarden on 18th Avenue. You can’t miss it, it’s like a breath of fresh air between all those ugly beige buildings. The woman owning it has great taste, she managed to make the perfect bouquet for me without ever seeing me.” She turned forward, a little flustered, “Steve gets me flowers from there sometimes, they’re my favorite.”

“Did you hear that, Stan?” A victorious smile spread on Bucky’s face as he squeezed Bambi’s shoulder. “Next stop is Brooklyn.”

“Alright, Sir.”

“You don’t know how much easier you just made my life.” Bucky leaned forward and kissed her cheek before the car came to a stop and he bid her goodbye. 

“I’m glad I could help.” She waved back and then headed into the restaurant. 

Maybe the event wasn’t so difficult after all, Bucky thought as he leaned back in his seat, his legs spreading in satisfaction.

❁ ❁ ❁

The cool air snook through your shop when the familiar bell of a customer chimed above the door. You’d seen many people frequent your shop daily. Women, men, teenagers, elderly. All came from different backgrounds and varying stories in their repertoire. Your store was in the heart of Brooklyn - a bunch of people mixed in this town. And you’d made it your mission to find the perfect flower arrangement for each and every one of them. 

The man who had set off your little bell this afternoon was different though. A perfectly tailored coat adorned his broad shoulders. The way his hands were tucked in his pockets revealed the expensive-looking suit beneath as well as the toned chest that hid beneath the button-up in vain. His presence oozed money as he sashayed through your shop, carefully grazing delicate pedals with the aura he brought in. 

He seemed to own the world, but something about him just didn’t fit between the colorful flowers surrounding him. If you didn’t know any better, he looked a little lost, eyes glassy as they swayed through the sea of colors and shapes soaking in fresh water. 

“Good afternoon, sir. Can I help you?”

He ripped around, fixed his posture, and approached the cash desk. When his eyes landed on you, he froze. Just for a second, however, and then his jaw snapped into a handsome smile as he leaned forward. 

“I sure hope so.” His white teeth flashed between his lips before his tongue stroked over them. It was capturing. “This flower shop has been recommended to me. You wouldn’t happen to be the owner?”

“Well actually, I am,” you smiled hiding the pride swelling in your chest from the comment.

“Great. What is your capacity when it comes to event arrangements?”

“That depends...” You smiled as the handsome stranger raised his eyebrows in intrigue. “I reckon we have vastly different understandings of what is small and... big.” Your eyes wandered over his expensive coat again. The innuendo was accidental, really, but he seemed to be amused nevertheless. 

“My company is hosting its annual charity event in November... at The Glasshouse.”

“So just as I suspected...” You nodded and strode past him towards the fall flowers.

“Pardon me?”

You turned your head towards him and winked. “Bigger than I thought.”

“So?” He approached you with his hands still in his coat pockets and peeked over your shoulder. “Can you do it?”

“Totally.” Then you gestured to the flowers. “Do you have any preferences? I don’t have all the flowers in yet, but I recommend going with some soft orange and sage tones... to cater to the season.”

“Forgive me, sweetheart, but I am useless when it comes to this kind of stuff. My qualities lie more in the technical aspect of things.” A hand ran through his thick dark hair and the gesture made him look boyish.

“Alright let me rephrase my question then: Do you trust me?” A sly smile sneaked on his face, matching yours. 

He tipped his head. “My life is in your hands.” 

“Good. Then please write down your details here.” You pushed a form over the counter once you reached it again, and the man just followed you around like a lost dog. You watched as his hand swiftly filled out the free spaces on the paper, curious which company he had been referring to. 

“Wait you’re working for SPS?” 

“I own it, sweetheart.” The man adjusted his coat as you tried to look unimpressed. “My name is James Barnes, but you can call me Bucky.” His hand extended over the shiny countertop until it encased your smaller fingers and his warmth seeped through your body. 

Bucky’s smile brightened when you revealed your name to him, telling you how beautiful it was, and you began to struggle not to show the effects it had on you. Then he resumed filling out the order and slid it over to you again. 

“What cause are you raising money for this year?” You asked as you sorted the paper into your books, only to be surprised when Bucky seemed a little nervous all of a sudden. 

You knew Shield Protection Services was a pristine company with reach to people whose powers you could barely comprehend. Whatever they were choosing, it would have a big impact on the change their chosen organization was advocating. 

“Well, to be honest... we haven’t decided yet.” A silly idea hushed through your head at that, but you dismissed it. A company such as Bucky’s would raise sums only big fish could handle. There wasn’t space for the things you had in mind. 

“I hope you’ll do so soon, then.” You nodded thoughtfully and ended with a tight-lipped smile. 

Bucky nodded and smiled, then turned around and headed for the door. But before he could open it, he came back again. You looked up to see a black card held before you. 

“I’d be happy for suggestions... if you have any in mind.” He shrugged with that cheeky look of his and then left. And you just stood there, dumbfounded, and toying with the ridiculous idea that Bucky Barnes might actually be able to read minds. 

❁ ❁ ❁

“Rogers really couldn’t make it?” Tony asked as he leaned back in the leather booth of his very own establishment. He tipped his emptied whiskey glass towards the slender redhead at the bar and smiled as she rushed to get his refill ready. 

“He promised Bambi to be home...” Bucky trailed off as he watched a customer hit on the waitress - Tiffany he remembered - A pretty thing, but unfortunately incredibly hollow when it came to conversation... not that Bucky looked for anything like it.  

Tony huffed. “That woman has him wrapped around her finger!” He liked Bambi, everyone did, he just missed hanging out with his guys. 

“Just wait until you find the one, Tony,” Sam chimed in with a sly smirk on his face - a hopeful, yet cautious hint as Sam secretly loved the idea of all his friends finally finding the one. He was a romantic, Bucky knew it, even if Sam never actually said it. 

“Me? I would never give up my glorious bachelor life for one woman. There are way too many things to explore...”

“Mark my words, Stark. We’ll look back to this day and laugh about this incredibly jackassy statement. You, too will be finding the one. I just know it.”

Bucky chuckled and tipped his glass on the Table as the bickering of his friends faded into background noise. For some reason, he didn’t feel like adding to the conversation. He blamed it on the banality of a conversation both he and Tony had long decided on, but perhaps, it was because for once in his life, he considered taking Sam’s side on the topic. 

It was ridiculous, really, how fast you’d occupied his mind when it came to Sam’s comment about finding ‘the one’. He didn’t even know you aside from the ‘background check’ he conducted after his visit to your shop. That might have covered your personal details, but he still didn’t know if you were a dog person or preferred cats, or if you were vegan or vegetarian, or if you considered kids in your future. 

Bucky cleared his throat and sat up straighter when he felt the fluster creep up his neck. What the hell was happening to him? He wasn’t like this at all. Women occupied his mind for about as long as it took for him to make them come undone in his hands. When he was with them, his full attention was on them - he loved them - but he’d never let them control his life. James “Bucky” Barnes never even considered seeing them twice, let alone thinking about a future with them. 

Though, to Bucky’s displeasure - or pleasure (he hadn’t decided yet) - the thought of seeing you again wasn’t uncomfortable to him. On the contrary, he got a weird tingly feeling in his stomach when he remembered the smell of the flowers in your shop and how your delicate fingers carefully picked out the prettiest ones. Bucky sat his drink down with a clink. Maybe he’d had enough alcohol for tonight.

“Barnes, how come you’re not defending me here? Have you grown soft or something? Do you have a girl we don’t know about?” Tony’s nagging broke through to Bucky and the whole bar reached back into his consciousness.

“Sorry, what?” He stuttered, shaking his thought and trying to find a good answer to his friend’s remark. “I was distracted by Betty.” Bucky smiled sheepishly as he received a clap on his shoulder. 

“That’s my man.” Tony grinned and Sam huffed into his whiskey. And Bucky? He just sunk into his seat, feeling somehow shameful for the white lie he had made up.

❁ ❁ ❁

The SPS office was impressive. Amongst the old New York brick building surrounding it, it reached up into the sky with its glass front everything. But you wouldn’t be fooled by its fragile looks. This was one of the most secure buildings in the city. You’d read about it in an article some time back - the whole hype about the company was their way of making fragile-looking things indestructible. You couldn’t see through the “windows” from the outside. And you wouldn’t be able to launch a rocket through it either. SPS had patented their stronger-than-steel-glass years ago, making them the leading security company in the world. 

To say you had been a little surprised to see the very owner of said company on your side of town would be an understatement. But besides his incredibly adamant way of flirting, he was quite normal to talk to. He’d even asked you for advice on the cause they should donate to this year. And after having thought about it for the better part of what should have been your sleep time, you had decided to just try and pitch your idea. 

“Do you have an appointment Ms.?” A stunning redhead peered up at you from her desk, her nails clicked on the keyboard of her computer as she waited for your answer. You didn’t really know why you thought getting to Bucky was going to be easy. The security guard had already eyed you suspiciously at the front desk in the lobby. After you’d smiled at him as charmingly as you could, he’d decided to let you be someone else’s problem today - or maybe he just didn’t see you as a threat - whatever it was, it had gotten you this far. But what were you gonna say now?

Actually, I don’t have an appointment, but Mr Barnes met me yesterday and after thinking about him all night, I decided to pay him a visit today.

Yeah, that wouldn’t cut it. Not in this office. The redhead - N. Romanoff - was what her sign said, made that fairly clear with the way her lips pursed at the opened calendar on the screen. 

“You don’t happen to have to discuss something not suited for work with Mr. Barnes, do you? I know he tends to leave some of his meetings... open-ended.” 

Your eyes got wide. “God, no. I’m not-“ Your hands made a swishing motion between you two and then you took a breath. “I’m here to discuss business. Purely business. Mr. Barnes has made an order at my shop for the company fundraiser and I just want to discuss some details.” 

Her eyes glimmered when her lips pulled into a smile. “Did he now?” She peered over to catch the look of the blonde assistant a few feet next to her and then back to you. “Well if that is the case, please have a seat, I’ll tell him you’re here.” And with that, she got up, winked, and wrapped at the large wooden door presumably leading to Bucky’s office. 

She came back a minute later and gestured for you to enter. “Lucky for you, his meeting just got canceled, so you should have enough time.”

“Thank you.” And then Ms. Romanoff went back to her desk and started whispering to the blonde assistant. 

Bucky sat behind his desk, a sleek glass surface lightly cluttered with papers. Other than that, the room felt cool, the large rug by the seating area did little to cover the marbled floors. You stepped inside just as Bucky called out your name. You almost didn't see the wide smile on his face as the rising sun hung low on the horizon behind him, casting a halo-like glow around his silhouette. What a freaking entrance. Though Bucky surely couldn’t control the sun, you thought with a small smile, you really had to stop imagining this man was extraordinary. 

“You’re here.” He got up and walked towards you, his sleek back shoes echoing on the ground. And then he was next to you, leading you to the seat in front of his desk with his hand on the small of your back. “What brings me the honor of your visit, darling.”

He leaned on his desk with his arms crossed, a pleasant smile on his lips. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s nice that you came by, but you do have my number, don’t you?”

“I do.” You cleared your throat, trying to sound as convincing as possible. “I was hoping you had some time to spare, actually. I find the phone to be a little... impersonal.”

Bucky’s eyes shined with intrigue as he leaned forward, pinning you to the chair with his gaze. He licked his lips. “Show me what exactly?”

“You’ll see.” You smirked. “I happen to know that your next meeting just got canceled.”

Bucky got even closer, his breath hitting your neck with every word he spoke. “And I’ll gladly cancel the rest, too.” A shiver shot over your arms, his cologne seemingly intoxicating you. But before you could respond, he backed up, grabbing his coat and gesturing towards the door. “Lead the way.” 

And so you did. 

❁ ❁ ❁

Bucky was suspicious when you pulled him into the subway, but he decided against saying something. He had told you he trusted you after all, and though Bucky considered himself a lot of things, a flake was not one of them. So he let it happen. 

It wasn’t half bad, either. Somewhere between his office door and the train, you had taken his hand in yours to pull him along faster. Bucky had noticed his lips spreading into a smile. It didn't last long, unfortunately. Because as he had made eye contact with an elderly lady who had then proceeded to tell you what a beautiful couple you were, you had pulled your hand away with an awkward laugh. 

‘Oh, God, no, we’re not together, ma’am.’ 

Admittedly, Bucky felt a little sting in his chest ever since. In fact, he was rubbing his hand over his shirt at this very moment. You were walking along a street in Brooklyn, not too far from your shop. The neighborhood was a little more run-down than he was used to, certainly nothing like the part of town he lived in. But he kept quiet still. Maybe he was a little butthurt from your earlier aversion about the couple comment, but to be fair, Bucky wasn’t used to women denying him - except Nat. 

You suddenly stopped, making Bucky almost run into you and then stare at you in question. But when you gestured towards the sign above the two-story building, his gaze softened. 

There, above the blue-painted metal doors, hung a faded sign. Bucky could make out the orange and yellow stripes on the board, a big Sunflower painted in the middle of it all. ‘Sunflower -Shelter & Food’.

“Hey, are you coming or are you glued to the ground?” Your voice rang from the entrance, he hadn’t even noticed that you already moved inside. 

Bucky gulped when his eyes swayed back to you and then down his own body. If he was going to step in there in the outfit he was currently wearing, he would look like the biggest asshole on the planet. 

“I can’t go in there.”

“Why not?”

He just gestured towards his clothes, his Rolex glinting in the sunlight for good measure. But there was no reaction from you. You stood in the doorway, pursing your lips seemingly in thought, and then shrugged your shoulders nonchalantly. “I guess you’ll just have to deal with it then.”

“What?” He called your name. But when he realized you weren’t joking, he caught up to you as fast as possible. Because the only thing worse than showing up there looking like he did was doing it alone, he decided swiftly. 

“‘Think now might be a good time to mention that this is not a very good place for a date,” Bucky mumbled next to you before closing his coat, trying to hide the even more expensive suit beneath. 

“How would you know?” You turned to him. “This isn’t a date, is it?”

Bucky just smirked and then he watched you greet a young boy with a warm hug, and man he imagined what it would be like to have you hug him like that. 

“Peter this is Bucky, Bucky, Peter.” You pulled him towards you by his hand again. “I brought him along to help today, thought we always need an extra pair of hands around here.”

“Pleasure to meet you, sir.” Peter reached his hand out, slightly frowning when he took in his appearance but did not say anything. “Any help is always welcome here. Come, I’ll show you what we’re doing today.” 

Within ten minutes, Bucky had an apron and gloves on and was ordered to cut the biggest stack of potatoes he’d ever seen. You were happily chatting away with the other helpers and Bucky, for the first time in a long time, felt ...normal. 

Nobody was recognizing him in the crowd, there was no talk about business and investments, and there were no fucking cameras. Here, people recognized him for what he came to do, help. And it felt weird. Bucky wasn’t quiet about his lavish lifestyle around his crowds. He knew the privilege he had, and he had worked for it enough to be proud of it. But it was like he had entered a different universe in this part of town. All the things he deemed normal, were things so far from imagination here, they were left out of conversations entirely. So, he tried to remember this whenever he was offered a conversation. 

“You do this every day?” He asked into the kitchen while struggling to peel his 5th potato. 

“Whenever we can.” An older woman answered with a smile. She was the one who had shown him how to use the peeler faster. “They are people just like you and me. They have to eat every day, too, Bucky.”

Bucky just nodded in silence at the humbling answer, his cheeks felt hot with embarrassment at how naive he had been. 

Two hours later, he was standing by your side at the serving station, plating mashed potatoes and the accommodating ‘you’re welcome’ every once in a while. He rarely was out of his comfort zone, like today. But he also knew that, whenever he felt unsure, he’d look at you and you’d gift him an encouraging gesture that kept him going a little while longer. 

After everyone had their food, you gave Bucky a tour of the premises. 

There was a small courtyard, a couple rooms with telephones and a computer, some sofas and pillows. Nothing fancy but functional nonetheless. You led him through every room, explaining curtly what it was for and then you led him up the stairs.

On your way up, you passed Peter, who was helping a child find its toy and Bucky felt a lump form in his throat at all the new impressions he was fed today.

He cleared his throat. “Peter... is he?”

You shook your head. “Not exactly. His parents died when he was quite young. Lucky for him, though, he has always been a bright kid. He got a scholarship for every school he ever went to. But he spends most of his free time here. He has this urge to help wherever he can. Took me a couple months to keep him from skipping his lectures.” You chuckled and led him through the next door. 

Bucky nodded with adoration. Not many people dedicated their time to something that would not benefit them directly. And while Bucky knew what a dedicated mind was capable of, he had to admit that his efforts were always motivated by personal gain. 

“He’s very admirable for that.” 

You just hummed in response. “I don’t think he chose it himself. Not that I think he wouldn’t. But this shelter belonged to his uncle and aunt. They died when he was in high school. He’s working hard to keep this place alive. As do we all.”

The next room you entered was resembling a classroom. “What happens here?”

“Most of the children are registered for the public school of this district. But they don’t always make it there. This room gives them the opportunity to catch up on missed work. We also have adult classes here, preparing for job interviews and such.”

The next hallway presented doors, all leading to bedrooms, as you explained to Bucky when you walked through the corridor. The last door was larger than the others - a double swing leading to a big sanitary area. Showers, toilets, and sinks lined the walls - all run down but functional. 

“This place could use some serious renovating,” Bucky mumbled, but he was sure you had heard him. Because you looked up at him now, a sad smile decorating your beautiful face. 

“We try to make it as clean and cozy as possible here, but we just don’t have the necessary financial means for it. It works for now. The people coming here need very little. But it’s only a matter of time until the roof needs redoing or the pipes or the windows, or the-“

“Yeah...” Bucky trailed off, making you stop and giving him a break to breathe. He usually wasn’t surrounded by people unable to get out of unfortunate situations. The clients he spent his time with ordered his services to protect the material things they’d bought for status and fun. It was something entirely different when you were robbed of your place to sleep. 

“Well, this completes my humble tour.” You clasped your hands together and proceeded to look at your watch. “I think it’s time to go home.”

You descended the stairs in silence, Peter hugged Bucky goodbye and when he stepped foot back on the sidewalk, Bucky turned around to the sign once more. You stood beneath it, leaning against the doorframe and smiling at him. It was dark out now. 

“Are you not coming?” He asked watching as you shook your head. 

“Peter has an exam tomorrow. I offered to stay the night.”

“Here? Alone?”

“Yes.” 

Bucky stepped towards you again. “Then I’m go-“

“Stop.” Your hand reached for his shoulder, the touch sending him straight back to a haze. “Don’t do this. I know how you feel. There’s this sadness inside you now. You saw this for the first time. It feels awful - I know.” You retracted your hand and pushed yourself off the doorframe. “But until you don’t see anything other than pity for these people, you can’t be here without breaking.”

“Doll...”

“Bucky, I'm serious. Go home. Sleep on it. Try to understand the situation.” 

Bucky couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this helpless. He just stared at you, unable to move or say anything. He didn’t like the idea of you staying here alone at night. And though the feeling of caring for someone he’d only known for two days so much scared him, he pushed it aside. 

You leaned forward and hugged him goodbye and then the cold night surrounded him again. “Thank you for trusting me today.” And then you turned around and left him standing outside alone. 

❁ ❁ ❁

Your purple-inked pen marked the date in your calendar. 

“That’s an unusually big order, Steve...” You looked up at the blonde frequenting your shop every so often. He’d always get the pink carnations for his girlfriend. Apparently, she loved them after you bound them in the first bouquet you ever sold to Steve. He was a simple man, you could tell, so his usual orders were just as such. But not today. “Are you planning anything special?”

The handsome customer blushed with an innocent smile. “Actually...” He scratched the back of his neck. “I’m planning to propose.” He looked so sheepish when you clasped your hands in excitement.

“Oh, that’s amazing. Congratulations!”

“Well not yet.” He cleared his throat, visibly trying to compose himself. But this giant pretty man in front of you was adorably nervous. 

“I just know she’ll say yes,” you mused and made a note to reserve some more carnations for his order - a couple simple arrangements that held so much meaning.

“How do you know?”

You watched Steve peer over to you with hopeful eyes. “It’s not every day a man puts so much effort and thought into what bouquet to get his girlfriend on a casual Monday evening each week.” You winked and Steve nodded lost in thought. 

“To be honest, I haven’t even thought about her saying no. I wouldn’t know what to do with myself.”

“You shouldn’t worry too much. You are a good man, everyone can see that. And just to be sure, I’ll make the most perfect flowers ever. Paired with your charming ways, there will be no other option but to say yes.”

He relaxed a little. “Great. Thank you.” And then he turned to leave your shop. 

“I’ll have them ready by Friday.” You smiled. 

“Thank you... so much.” Steve smiled and you knew there was so much more hidden in his gesture.

❁ ❁ ❁

It had become a habit that Bucky visited the shelter with you once a week. Admittedly, you were surprised he even cared enough to free his schedule so religiously. But as of the past four weeks, he had shown up at your shop, walked with you to Sunflower shelters, mingled with the people, and then even walked you home. 

It was actually kind of refreshing, seeing him so invested and kind of protective. There weren’t many guys in the city that cared enough to get you home safely. Peter offered more times than often, but you rather knew him safe at the shelter than try to fight a gangster double his size out of the kindness of his heart and the deep wish to somehow become a superhero one day.

So Bucky had to do it for now. Not that you were complaining. He was handsome and charming and interesting to converse with given the vastly different lives you lived. But he tried to adapt. Ever since the incident on the first day, he had even tried to wear less wealth-telling clothing, though he seemed to not always hit the mark just right. 

In a way, bucky was a little fashion icon. You’d noticed it in his colorful waistcoats, the intricate details on his shoes, or the fancy cufflinks adorning his oxford-cotton shirts. He tried to dress down. But to your surprise, the color remained. Instead of waistcoats and dress shirts, he wore regular t-shirts. His confidence never wavered.  

A little smile hushed across your face every time you looked at him. The pink shirt he wore combined with the green apron he had been given, made him look like a lollipop. A Beautiful one, that was. With a dashing smile and an adorable frown as he tried to separate the peas from the pod. 

“So... how is the gala coming along?” You teased him a little having noticed how unusual this task was for him. Throughout your few meetings, you had gotten to know Bucky quite well. And apart from his statement the very day he stepped foot into your shop, he revealed to you more and more how difficult the project was for him.

“Let’s just say I’m glad I can count on the flower arrangements,” he grumbles as a pea slipped from his fingers and across the table. 

“That bad, huh?”

His hands stopped working. “The Band canceled on me again and I seem to run after every other arrangement I have made so far. If I had known how much work-“ he huffed and then shook his head with an even deeper frown. 

“Hey, it’s okay to not be good at everything.” You encouraged him, your elbow nudging his side as you smiled lightly. “There has got to be something humbling you. Makes you seem more human.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“I meant to ask you...” You picked up your task to avoid his eyes that were suddenly on you again. “How come you’re the one organizing the gala?”

Bucky chuckled, his head shaking for what seemed like the hundredth time today. “I made a deal with my assistant.” 

“What was in it for you?” You threw a couple peas in the strainer and Bucky did the same.

He shrugged. “I got to hand off some paperwork.”

Wow. “Seriously? A bit of paperwork seems like a poor trade for months of organizing something so important.”

Bucky laughed, the sound warming your stomach from the inside out and finally making you look at him again. It was little moments like this in which he felt so careless and relaxed. You liked to believe the shelter did it to him, or maybe even you. But primarily, you were glad he laid off his work self just then. “Yeah it might have not been my smartest move... but I don’t mind it really.”

“Why’s that?” Your eyes locked and you suddenly became very aware of how close the two of you were standing. 

“If it weren’t for the deal, I would have never met you.” There was something so honest and pure about the way he had stated this so plainly. And for a moment, you liked to forget that he might have just meant your suggestion to donate to Sunflower. That maybe, the funny fluttery feeling in your stomach wasn’t one-sided, and that you too meant something greater to him than the coincidences that led him into your shop that day. 

A wide smile spread on Bucky’s face and then he winked. He freaking winked at you. And while you turned back to your peas, desperate to hide the fluster on your face, you had to remind yourself that this was Bucky fucking Barnes and that he knew what he was doing.

About two hours later, you sat amongst the people currently living at the shelter, sharing the meal you had prepared for them with the hopes of getting them through another day. You and Bucky were sitting with Gabe Jones, a veteran whose post-traumatic stress disorder had cost him everything after the Vietnam War. He was always telling stories of his time on the front - a way to cope with his horrible past. By now, you and Peter had probably heard every single one of his stories twice. But Bucky was on the edge of his seat. Listening with intrigue as the food on his plate remained untouched. 

“It was ’68 when I was sent out. There were soldiers who done already survived a year or so at the front. And, son, I am sayin’ survived ‘cause you couldn’t call that livin’.” Gabe shook his head before pointing his fork to his shoulder. “Caught a grenade in ’69 and on our way to camp, they shot at the helicopter. Lost my right arm and comrade that day. The damn arm’s gone but I’m gon’ have the memory forever.”

The words didn’t seem to affect the veteran anymore, but they never failed to leave their recipients shocked and wondering. It was always the same question: How can someone fight for a country, leave their life for a country, and end up here?

And honestly? You didn’t know. 

“I’m so sorry, sir.” Bucky swallowed as his eyes fled over to yours. “Thank you for your service.”

“Notin’ to be sorry ‘bout.” Gabe waved his hand and then pointed at Bucky’s plate. “You eatin’ that?” 

Bucky just shook his head and pushed his plate towards Gabe, a somber state overtaking his body. You did feel a little bad. But you also knew that Gabe wasn’t affected by sympathies and that he was happy at Sunflower - though he preferred the street over the beds here. While he had spent just another day existing, he had simultaneously opened Bucky’s eyes to the severity of making stories like his more known. 

By now you were pretty confident, Bucky would choose the homeless as recipients for his company’s fundraiser sum. But he surprised you by getting involved with the people here over and over again, willing to learn and to understand. 

The walk to your apartment building that evening was awfully quiet. Bucky had insisted he walk on the street side of the sidewalk, buried his hands in his coat pockets, and shut up ever since.

You knew he was contemplating, letting the day play on repeat in his mind. He probably had a lot of questions, a lot of frustration, and worry. Nothing unfamiliar to you, but something you’d learned to deal with ever since helping out at Sunflower. 

“Don’t feel bad,” you said when you stopped in front of the familiar brick building you called home. 

“How?”

“Feeling bad isn’t helping them. You have the power to change things.” It was an awfully dry response, but the truth hurt sometimes. 

Bucky just looked at you through hooded eyes, a knowing nod shaking his features as he watched slowly take a step back toward your front door. 

“Thank you,” he suddenly released - steady and calm. “For taking me. For helping me see...” 

You couldn’t help yourself. The confession overwhelmed you. Knowing you had succeeded in showing him what was so important to you overwhelmed you. You leaped forward and slung your arms around him, pressing tightly into his chest. 

Bucky’s arms found their way around you in an instant, the hug conveying so much more than just a goodbye. It was a ‘thank you’ a ‘this means the world to me’.

After about a minute, you leaned up to him and placed a kiss to his cheek. “I’m also glad you took the deal, Bucky.” You whispered into his ear, feeling the smile on his face on your cheek. 

When he finally released you, it seemed like the spell was gone. Bucky was back to burying his hands in his pockets, only the faint remnants of a smile hinting towards your earlier interaction. You hadn’t realized how much this would affect him. You had forgotten how long you fought with yourself until you could act normal around the people at Sunflower yourself. 

“Do you want to come up?” You threw your thumb over your shoulder at the entrance of the building with a lopsided smile. “Don’t want that cheap bottle of merlot to go bad.”

Bucky’s eyes brightened underneath the street lights and the wide boyish grin returned to his face. “We can’t have that, can we?”

❁ ❁ ❁

To say Bucky’s heart had skipped a beat at your invitation would have been an understatement. It did somersaults and ended with an impressive backflip. He’d not expected a move from your side. Especially, since the last time he had picked you up, the universe had flipped him the bird by sending two of his former one-night-stands your way. He had been able to shake them off before they were able to yell at him or reveal more of what their connection to him was. But that marked the first time he was a little embarrassed by his late endeavors. You had acted like nothing happened, but since that night, Bucky hadn’t stopped wondering what you thought of him. 

You lead him up the narrow staircase to a red wooden door, the color chipping by the floor as an indicator of having to kick it to open sometimes. Beyond the door, it was cozy and warm. Every corner of your place had a memory placed in it - a self-made quilt or a photograph. When you walked through it, Bucky could feel the love and time this place had seen. 

It was nothing like his own apartment: a penthouse standing high above the city, with sleek black surfaces and cold marble wherever you reached. Here, he felt the need to take his shoes off, to feel the fuzzy carpets on the scratched-up wooden floors. Your place wasn’t sterile like his, it felt... like a good hug. 

Bucky snorted as the result of a breath he released. Never before had he cared about what his place lacked. It was expensive and pristine, clean and big. And even though your apartment was about the size of his living room, it had so much more to offer. 

“The living room is right through there, you can choose a movie if you like.” Your voice called out from somewhere Bucky assumed to be the kitchen as he kicked off his shoes and made himself comfortable on the rust-colored sofa that had more pillows than necessary. It was super comfortable, though. And the lack of space due to the pillows forced you to sit a little closer to him, so he wasn’t complaining.

“Your place is... cute.” He stated as you handed him a glass of wine and laughed. 

“It’s a shoebox but I do love it very much. Probably nothing compared to what you’re used to.”

Bucky shook his head and took a sip. The wine did taste cheap, but he did not care. “Bigger isn’t always better.” His arm was spread on the backrest but your whole body was turned to him. “It has a lot of character.”

“Oh god, please stop, you’re just making it sound worse.” Your hand came up to hide your face but your smile peeked through the gesture. 

Bucky laughed. “I didn’t mean it condescendingly. I really do like it. Reminds me of my childhood home.”

“Are you close with your family?” Bucky was surprised by the question. Maybe it was because his friends never talked about his family, or because the peers he hung out with tended to discuss business rather than sentimental. But he realized that nobody had asked him about it for a long time.

And so he began talking. Bucky talked about his parents and how both of them died early in his life. He told you how close he was with his sister until she got adopted into another family. He spoke about his childhood with Steve and how they’d met Sam and Tony in college, about the night they had the idea for Shield Protective Services, and finally the day he was told his sister had passed away. 

Throughout his story, you had leaned into him closer, hanging onto his every word until your hand had to support your body on his thigh and Bucky suddenly stopped talking. 

Your glasses were emptied, the bottle as well, and Bucky gulped when he felt the heat from your hand travel throughout his entire body. 

“So... that’s my story.” He had to clear his throat to gain his usual timber back, his hands becoming sweaty when you blinked next to him. “What about you, dove?”

“Dove?” You smiled, yet intrigued by the name that had slipped past his lips in the trance of the moment. He’d only ever called you that in his thoughts. Attributed the nickname to you the second he realized it was the most fitting one of them all. 

“You don’t like it?” He asked, his arm slipping towards your shoulder ever so slightly. 

“I like it.” You smiled. “I just want to know... why this one?”

A hush of giddiness crawled up his throat when he thought about his answer. It was the way you had welcomed him so easily into this world of yours. How you were willing to show him the things precious to you. That you trusted him with this very opportunity to help. Every day he spent with you he felt it, found that between coding his new security program and meeting with Hydra enterprises, its somber reality sent him into a feeling of breathing fresh air. You created a button that turned off the noise in his head. “Because you bring me peace.”

Your eyes stared at him in wonder when he tilted your chin with his thumb and index finger. There was appreciation and happiness, he could see it, feel it. 

Bucky was entranced by your stare when your voice whispered a response to him: “That’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever been told.”

You leaned forward and Bucky’s heart threatened to jump out of his chest, and then your face fell into his chest, your arms encasing him in the warmest hug he’d ever received. He willed his pulse to slow and wrapped his arms around you tightly. A little humbled and a little confused, but appreciative of the situation nonetheless. 

You stayed like this when you chose a movie to watch. Even after an hour, Bucky’s grip didn’t loosen. He peered down at you on his chest and watched as you fell asleep. And when he was sure you were far away in your slumber, he pressed a warm kiss to your head, lingering in the scent of your shampoo.  

❁ ❁ ❁

Bucky stared at his computer screen as the pen in his hand clicked on his glass desk in perfect rhythm. The Shelter website displayed on the surface, portraying a brighter version of the sign you had dragged him to that very first day. 

But it wasn’t the heartfelt story behind the building or the way his pen clicked slightly more hollow every other tap because he turned it too much that had him zoned out at work. It was - as unbelievable as it sounded - a woman. Not just any, no. You. 

“Hey, I need a signature from you for this design draft.” Steve dropped his notepad on the desk, then rounded it and settled behind Bucky who had yet to recognize his presence. 

“This your charity suggestion?” He questioned with his hands on his friend’s office chair. 

Bucky nodded absentmindedly. Perhaps it was because he had decided to support your suggestion the second you had taken his hand on his way to the subway. Or maybe he was just letting his mind roam freely again. Mainly because it was a safe bet to call you into memory and he liked the feeling it provided. 

A pale hand waved in front of his face. “Earth to Bucky.” Steve snapped his fingers, making the brunette jump. “You seem oddly distracted.”

He had been thinking about you. Of course, he had. There seemed to be nothing else he could do lately. Every time Bucky read through his reports, he imagined what your voice would sound like reading them to him. Whenever he went down to IT, he envisioned the room decorated with your flowers and how much happier they would make the place. When he sat in a meeting with HR and watched their burnt-out faces stare back at him through their coffee haze, he wondered if you could make them as lively as you made him. 

Bucky could - so he realized after weeks of denial - not escape you. 

That was one thing. But the more chilling revelation was that he did not mind. He enjoyed the little admonitions his mind set out in his environment. He appreciated the quickening thumb in his chest, whenever he saw his calendar entries stating another meeting with you - so much so that he almost forgot how unusual it was for him. 

It was crazy. A month ago, if someone had dared to tell him he’d be finding something more than his regular flings, he would have laughed in their face. In fact, he actually did a few days before he met you. 

Bucky didn’t know what kind of magical spell you’d put on him, but within a few weeks, he’d started to become a different man. A better version of his thought-to-be-marvelous self. Now he realized what he was missing: a counterpart, someone who made life seem dull without them by his side. He wasn’t going to admit it to Sam or Steve immediately, but the idea of you being that very someone became more attractive each day. 

“Just a lot to do with the gala and all...” Bucky trailed off and spun around to Steve. 

“You know, I never took you for an event manager...” The blonde grinned and his eyes lit up in the office light. “Don’t take this the wrong way, I like seeing you try something new, but this feels very... out of place.”

“But you also know I never back down from a challenge. And I’ll be damned if Nat has something to hold against me for life.”

Steve’s head tipped forward. “We both know that woman has blackmail material for two lifetimes on us. 

“She really does.” Bucky sighed and then slumped back in his chair, the little issue he had been hiding from his best friend gnawing on his mind. 

He thought about Steve and Bambi and how he had just asked her to marry him. She’d said yes, of course, nobody expected otherwise. Steve - of all people - was living a magical fairytale life with the woman of his dreams. And here Bucky was, thinking he had figured it all out with women and relationships - or rather that he never wanted one - yet he found himself wondering why that decision bugged him so much when you came into the picture. 

“Can I ask you something?” Bucky squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep breath, not believing he was really going to ask Steve for dating advice.

“Always.”

“How did you know that Bambi was the one?” A stupid question, really. Bucky already knew there was nobody like you. But it was best to start this conversation off lightly.

Steve smiled widely again, his cheeks tinted pink. “Well, I couldn’t stop thinking about her. And not in an I haven’t touched a woman in years kind of way... I couldn’t stop. Every second of every day, I imagined her with me. The thought of her made me happier even before she knew how I felt about her. And, well, it also hurt like hell when I thought she didn’t return my feelings... when she refused to talk to me for a day...” He cleared his throat and then eyed Bucky again. “Why do you want to know?”

“Nothing in particular. I was just wondering and I needed material for my best man speech.” But the blonde didn’t buy it. He caught Bucky’s chair when he attempted to turn away, pulling him right back in front of him. “Are you dating someone? Is it that woman from the flower shop?”

How did he know about you? “No??” Bucky squinted at Steve. 

“You know if you wanted advice, I do consider myself an expert to some extent now.” Bucky wanted to wipe the smug grin right off his friend’s face. 

“You’re an idiot.” He stood up and paced to the window.

“Oh come on, Buck.” Steve followed suit, the playful grin ever present. “You teased me for years about my love life, can’t be mad now.”

“I’m not mad.” He was annoyed. 

They stood by the glass front for a while, watching the busy city unfold beneath them in the glow of the rising sun. Bucky could feel his friend’s eyes stare at him though. And after another moment of silence, the blonde finally spoke. “You should ask her out.”

“What?” He faced him again. 

“You like her. I can tell. And you’ve never acted like this about a woman, let alone put so much effort into a relationship. I know it’s not your style, but I think it would do you good to at least try.”

“The effort is for the gala.” Bucky corrected. 

“Right. Because that’s your thing... charity galas.” Steve squeezed Bucky’s shoulder and then tapped it and then he made his way to the door. “I’m not going to tell you what to do, but I really wish you would listen to your heart and not be a stubborn dickhead for once. This could be something life-changing - something great. And it’s your choice whether you welcome it or not.”

Life changing. Bucky didn’t like the sound of that. He liked to be in control of the situation and rule over his own life. However that aspect seemed to have left the building when you entered. 

He huffed. There you were back on his mind again, and he felt the tingle creep up his throat. There was no denying it. What Steve had described with Bambi was what Bucky had with you. 

With a shake of his head, he grabbed his coat, told Nat he’d be back in an hour, and then pressed the button for the elevator. He would deny it if Steve ever dared to take pride in convincing him to do so, but he’d also be damned if he didn’t at least try to find out if you felt the same. 

❁ ❁ ❁

There was a burly-looking stranger standing at the counter when Bucky entered your shop. He had willed the traitorous voice in his head to silence all the way here. But now that he saw the handsome older man taking all your attention to the point you hadn’t even noticed him stepping in over the customer's broad shoulders, the heat began to bubble up again. 

Bucky wanted to tell himself you wouldn’t prefer the salt-and-pepper-bearded man over him. But to be honest, he didn’t even know what your type was. Yes, you had cuddled on your sofa just the other night, but since Bucky wouldn’t consider himself an expert in anything other than one-night stands, it could have been a friendly gesture for all he knew. 

“Would that be all for you?” You asked the man and handed him his chance. Bucky watched as his thumb grazed over your hand, feeling a tinge of anger starting to consume him.  

“That’s all. Thank you, sweetheart.”

“I hope to see you again soon, sir.”

“Oh, you can bet on it.” He winked then turned, nodded to Bucky in a brief greeting, and then exited the shop. Bucky’s eyes lingered on the door for a while longer. He took deep breaths as his jaw clenched and the bell above the entrance fell silent. 

“Hey.” A warm hand touched his arm, pulling him right back to your eyes. And just like that, the anger washed away a little. There were just you and him in your tiny oasis amid Brooklyn. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine.” He forced a smile, but the frown on his face probably betrayed him. “Just thought that man was a little inappropriate.” 

“He’s just a sweet man buying flowers for his wife.” Your eyes glimmered with mischief when you bit your lip. “Bucky... are you jealous?”

Oh, hell no.

“Jealous?” Bucky wasn’t jealous. He couldn’t be. There was nothing to be jealous of. He had no claim to you. Even if he really wished he did. And yet that man had angered him with only the touch of his hand. That was the only thing he’d ever get. Bucky knew what it felt like to have you in his arms, how your body lotion settled in his nose, how your head fit perfectly in the crook of his neck. “No.”

“But you should not be so naïve, dove. Married men are also flirting... and cheating.”

A short laugh escaped your throat before you caught yourself again and Bucky’s heart began doing that funny somersault thing. “Not to burst your bubble or anything, but I do know how the real world works.” You crossed your arms before your chest. “Besides, what do you care if he did ask me out? Maybe it has been a lifelong dream of mine to be a mistress.”

“It’s not. And I don’t. I just think you deserve someone better than a cheater.”

“Oh, like who? The percentage of good guys in this city is disappointingly low.”

Bucky snorted, guided by the excitement in his chest he opened his arms. “Please, I could name at least five guys off the top of my head who are better than whatever that was.” His left hand flailed in the direction of the door, referring to the previous customer. 

“Name one.”

“Me.”

The surprise sprung onto your features faster than Bucky realized what he had said. “What?” 

Well, this was certainly not the way he had planned to ask you out today. Damn jealousy. The only way for this to not be embarrassing was to own up to it now. It was what he had come here for after all, right?

Bucky looked directly into your eyes, his expression sincere and determined. "Yes, me. I may not have everything figured out, but I do know one thing: I care about you. I've seen the way you light up a room, the kindness you show to everyone around you. You deserve someone who sees that, who appreciates it.”

Your eyes softened when you shook your head, averting your gaze to the ground. “I don’t know, Bucky.”

He bit the insides of his cheeks, instantly hoping you’d say something else. Anything that would show him there was a chance you would change your mind. The silence was all-consuming, but he kept his mouth shut, careful not to fuck it up once again. 

“Bucky, I appreciate your honesty, I really do. But I don't think it's a good idea.”

Bucky's brows furrowed, his confidence wavering as your soft refusal hit him. "What do you mean, you don't know?" he asked, his tone tinged with a hint of frustration. He struggled to keep his composure, the unfamiliar feeling of rejection gnawing at him. He swallowed the lump in his throat as he searched for the right thing to say. His jaw tensed, betraying the hurt he felt deep down. "Forget it," he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. With a curt nod, he turned on his heel, his disappointment palpable in the air as he made his exit, leaving you to contemplate his unexpected confession.

❁ ❁ ❁

“Why, don’t you just look precious!” You bent down and picked up Sam’s daughter, Darla, who had eagerly stormed through the door as soon as he’d opened it because she wasn’t quite tall enough to reach the handle yet. 

“You... I’ve missed you soooo much.” You nuzzled her into your chest and pretended to squeeze real tight. 

“Come play dragons with me!” The little one squirmed and then hopped off in her tiny knight costume.

“Nothing I would rather do,” you singsonged and then mouthed a ‘she’s grown so much’ to Sam before he closed the door with a shake of his head. 

“I know... she just does it without my permission. Unbelievable.”

About ten minutes later, you sat on the living room floor with a bunch of stuffed dragons, you had been instructed to play. Sam’s daughter was happily fighting the stuffies with her wooden sword and his husband handed you a cup of coffee with a smile. 

“So how have things been?” Matt sat down on the sofa and Sam instantly wrapped his arm around him. Your eyes lingered on the interaction for a second before your gaze wandered back to Darla. 

“Oh, you know, business as usual. The shop is doing very well... the shelters are holding up.” You smiled at her and then made a dragon fall backward in defeat. 

“Hm...” He frowned. “That’s weird... I had a feeling it was getting better soon.”

You smiled tight-lipped and wondered if you had butchered it all with your stubbornness. Matt wasn’t clairvoyant or anything crazy like it. But the joke of his other senses being heightened due to his impaired vision had carried on forever. And even though you never believed in supernatural magical things, you couldn’t help but wonder if maybe, there was a hunch of truth to it nonetheless. He had been right about many other things after all. 

“I don’t know,” you sighed and Darla excused herself to her room to ‘get more toys’. “Except for the shop, everything else seems to go a little downhill right now.”

“But you have been seeing someone, no?” Matt tilted his head and Sam squeezed his shoulder in an attempt to make him stop. 

“Babe, do we need to talk about appropriate prying again?” 

“Sorry,” Matt blushed, “Occupational hazard.”

You laughed and then turned serious again. “I have... but to be honest, I doubt it will have a future. It’s - I don’t know - it just seems a little too good to be true.”

“It’s been Bucky you’ve been seeing, hasn’t it?” Sam chimed in with a calm deep voice, making your attention snap to him. Your heart began to race at the mention of Bucky’s name. 

“How did you know?”

His fingers lifted in air quotes “A gorgeous girl with a flower shop in Brooklyn that somehow tries to convince him to donate to Sunflower shelters? You did not make it hard, honey.”

“He... he talks to you about me?” Well, that changes things, you thought as you watched Sam reassure you with a small smile. 

"More like a little birdy told me...." Sam shrugged. “What happened?” He leaned forward slightly, his eyes holding concern.

“Isn’t it obvious? I don’t want to be one of his many trophies. And I’m scared, I just made the chase attractive by not putting out immediately.” Your eyes turned glassy. “What if he will lose interest when I do.” Your voice broke, making you almost whisper the last part into the living room. “Because I really really want to...”

Matt cleared his throat. “If it helps anything... I have a feeling you are not going to be just another one-night stand.”

“And why is that?”

“I’ve never seen him like this.” Sam chimed in. “So butthurt about a girl or even put effort in a relationship that would only become a one night stand - which it is not - he wants more, he needs more. He sees a future with you. And as much as his bad-boy demeanor has made that pretty unbelievable in the past, he is changing. I just know, and it’s about time that he aims for peace and quiet and love and comfort.”

Turning your head with a suspicious grin, you answered: “Is Matt contagious? Because that sounded one hell of a lot like a prediction to me.”

Sam just shook his head with a smile, scooted forward on the sofa, and then took your hands in his. “Believe me when I say this: You are so amazing. And not even a douchebag like Bucky could deny it. Yes, he has had his fair share of women in the past, and he can be the most stubborn dickhead in all of New York City, but he’s not stupid. He knows something valuable when he sees it. And you, love, have given him the most precious thing he’s ever had.”

You held eye contact for a short moment, letting your friend’s words sink in and warm you from the inside until the butterflies in your stomach began to tingle. As much as you wanted to refuse, you had shown him love and acceptance every step of the way. And Bucky? Bucky had tried so hard to impress you. He had done so many things just for you, to spend time with you.

You just wrote it off as a means to get you to sleep with him. But at this point, that argument was farfetched. Because throughout the time you spent together, his presence was pleasant, casual, and... wanted. 

“So what do I do now?” You said with determination, making a smile spark on both Sam’s and Matt’s faces.

❁ ❁ ❁

“So, Barnes is unusually grumpy tonight.” Bucky heard Tony say when he came back from the bathroom, jamming his glas on the table to announce he was listening. “Did you get cockblocked or what?”

“Shut it, Stark, or I’ll personally demonstrate your very own cockblock.” Bucky pressed through his teeth. 

“Damn, Buck. What the hell could possibly throw you off this much?” Tony signaled for two more drinks to the bar as Bucky took a seat again. 

Sam looked at him with a raised brow - the fucker knew what was going on. But Bucky refused to get dragged into talking about his feelings. 

“I thought it was going good?” Steve chimed in, a question in his features. Steve, you punk. Shut up!

Bucky knew he was referring to the bouquets of flowers that subtly decorated the office now. First his own desk, then the kitchen. And when Nat had grown suspicious, he proceeded to place them on her desk to have her stop asking questions. 

It wasn’t his doing - not this time. You had just given him a bouquet of the flowers you couldn’t sell anymore every time you met. And Bucky couldn’t bring himself to throw them out. They also reminded him of you and were a nice little distraction from work. ...Not that it mattered anymore.

“Going good? What is going on? What are you talking about, Rogers?”

“Bucky met a- ouch goddamnit!” A kick was heard from beneath the table. And when Steve’s eyes snapped over to Sam, the man just tipped his head with a warning stare. “What the hell, man?”

“Okay, that’s it. I feel like you guys don’t tell me anything. I need details. Now.”

“No.”

Bucky didn’t need Tony to know. In fact, Bucky didn’t need anyone to know he had trouble talking to a woman. He, of all people, who never had any difficulties getting even the married ones - yeah he wasn’t too proud of that... But Tony would just make everything worse. And with his patience hanging by a thread right about now, he was not willing to play with fire. 

“Buck, we- they’re your friends. They deserve to know, especially if things are as serious as you told me.” Bucky just stared at Steve in silence, his gaze trained on the crystal class in front of him with the amber liquid untouched. Steve always had a need to calm the storm. And maybe, Bucky would let him do it this time. 

Truthfully, Bucky couldn’t imagine a life without you anymore. His friends would sooner or later hear about you - if he had not fucked it up entirely. So, it was better to rip the band-aid off now than peel it back painfully slow in the future. 

He crossed his arms and exchanged a brief glance with the blonde, and Steve understood that he was allowed to proceed. 

“Bucky met someone. He’s organizing the charity gala this year and she’s the florist doing the flower arrangements.” He had never noticed it before, but ever since Bambi had entered Steve’s life, his best friend’s fable for romance became more and more apparent to Bucky. 

“She’s also helped him find a cause to donate to. She’s been taking him to the Shelter she has worked at for years,” Sam chimed in and Bucky didn’t even question where he got his information from anymore. Steve and he had always been close, and though Bucky didn’t believe Steve would tell Sam his most private conversations, Sam always had a way of finding out. 

“Event planning? Florist? Who are you and what have you done to Bucky?” Tony looked seriously stunned, But Bucky didn’t expect anything less than incomprehension. He had always been the only one in the group Tony could relate to and talk to when it came to women and lifestyles. Now, that very thing was slipping away. 

Bucky just shrugged, uncertain how to answer. It was true: He had changed quite a bit ever since meeting you. But they weren't bad changes. He actually liked them. 

Steve cleared his throat. “I thought things were going great, just the other day he talked about asking her out. And there were all these flowers in the office, I just assumed...”

“Yeah well, they weren’t.” Bucky interrupted as he felt the frustration creep back up. There were so many new feelings mixing within him that he didn’t know what to do with them. 

“Well it’s good to have you back, I guess. Can’t imagine how that would’ve turned out.” Tony’s hand landed on Bucky’s shoulder, who immediately brushed it off. 

“What do you mean ‘turned out’?”

His head swayed from left to right and his hands turned outward. “Well, we all agree it would have never worked out right? You’re not the one for relationships and she was clearly using you for that charity money.”

What the actual fuck?

“You don’t know her. So don’t you dare assume anything about her.” Bucky sprung up, his hands hitting the table with a thump. “Dove has the kindest, most beautiful soul on this earth.” He wouldn’t let Tony, of all people, insult you. Not you. Not his dove. And, yes, maybe it also hurt a little that his friend did not believe Bucky could change for something truly important. And maybe it scratched his ego that this might have been the reason for your rejection the other day. But all of that seemed unimportant now. 

“Look at you growing all protective.”

“Tony.” Steve’s condescending tone rumbled over the booth. 

A look at Tony and Bucky wanted to smack the smirk off his face. Another look at Sam, whose eyes had grown soft with empathy. And one last look at Steve, who’d only wanted him to be as happy as him. Damn it. 

“You wouldn’t fucking know what I’m talking about, Stark.”

And then he stormed out of the Ironbar and into the night, head fuming, heart racing, and only one thing on his mind. 

❁ ❁ ❁

You were pretty sure Bucky would have kicked your door down had you not opened it the second time he wrapped his fist against it. Now he was standing in front of you, cheeks reddened from the cool night air, chest rising with deep breaths, but still devilishly handsome. 

“Hey, Bucky!” You smiled until you noticed the irritated look in his eyes. “What are you doing here?”

He seemingly ignored you, stepping into your home and then turning once you closed the door. “Do you think I can change?”

“What?”

“Do you believe I could change? That I could become the person you would date?” His eyes were pleasing, his head cocked to the side - fidgedy.

“Is... is this about the other day?”

Bucky looked nervous, vulnerable even. “Just answer my question, please.”

“I believe everyone has the ability to change. But I also know not everyone wants to.” You looked at your hands, suddenly feeling a bit awkward.

“Then why... why do you think I haven’t. Through all the times we’ve gone to the shelter, through all the conversations. I’ve never had that with someone before... what I have with you.”

There it was. You knew you had to talk to him about it sooner or later. Sam and Matt had suggested as much. You just didn't know it would be this soon.

“Bucky, I just don’t want to end up as one of the women passing you on the street, throwing side eyes at the newest one you’re having on your arm.” Yeah... that encounter had been a rather awkard one. Not to mention how nervous you were that night, hopig Bucky had only played it cool in order to protect you.

“See, but that wouldn’t happen to you, dove. It wouldn’t. Because I realized that you are the reason that makes me want to change.” Bucky's gaze softened as he spoke, his tone gentle yet resolute he stepped closer. “I'm not perfect, but I promise you this: I'll always try my best for you. So, yeah, maybe it's a long shot, but I think I could be good for you. And if you'd give me the chance, I'd love to show you.” He took your hands in his, then closed his eyes and came even closer. “I know I'd treat you right.”

Throughout his confession, your gaze never faltered from his face. You could feel the desperate honesty in his tone, in the way his hands lightly trembled. He was scared, and he lay that emotion in your hands - for you to do whatever you needed with it. 

Your voice was shaky when you answered, a light hue of shame fogging the question on the tip of your tongue. “But how do I know...?” That this is not what you’re telling every woman in this godforsaken city? 

But Bucky understood. Because apparently that pull you'd had toward him had been there for a reason. “Because the things you make me feel scare me.” His face was mere inches from yours now, you could see every speck of color in his irises. “They scare me because I’ve never felt them before. Every time I’m not with you, I think of you. In every situation I am in alone, I imagine how much more exciting it would be with you in it. I’m going crazy. I’m lost without you, dove.”

A single tear ran down your face at his confession. This moment felt so raw, his words so sincere. But most importantly, it made your heart pound with excitement. 

“Will you be mine?” His forehead leaned against yours, his hands moving up your arms and to your neck. “Please say yes,” he whispered and his breath tickled your nose. 

He just felt so right. Bucky felt right in your home, in your arms, in your life. “Yes.” You finally answered and as soon as the syllable left your mouth, his lips came crashing onto yours. 

Within seconds, Bucky had you pressed against the door. His hands held your face lovingly, his hands warm and big on your skin. The kiss was deep and so unbelievably pure, it punched the breath from your lunges the second your lips connected. And suddenly you knew that Bucky’s words held far less emptiness than you had feared. Nobody could kiss like this and not be sincere. At least you hoped it to be true because once you’d gotten a taste, you knew you would never want to try anything else. You could get drunk off him. Forever.

Your hands wandered beneath Bucky’s coat, settling in the warmth of his back beneath the thick wool and feeling the muscles ripple when he pulled you even closer. 

You sighed into him because the moment felt so right, so perfect, so tailored to the two of you and Bucky brushed his tongue over your bottom lip. The tingle from the gesture traveled down your spine. Before you could hold yourself back, you let his touch swallow you whole. 

❁ ❁ ❁

Bucky moaned, a feeling so warm and enjoyable taking over his body with every breath you stole from him. He had wanted for this to happen for weeks. And the real thing did not disappoint. 

Your hands roamed his back until they hooked onto his shoulders and began shrugging off his coat. He tried hard to keep your lips on his during the action, not wanting to miss a single moment without them anymore. You were here, you were his, and it was perfect. 

“Bucky,” you whimpered when his thigh made its way between your legs. A move so instinctually feeling for him. But all the other women he’d been with before only seemed like practice now. Preparation to be the best lover you’ve ever had and ever will have. Because you were the real thing, the grand prize, the best person to ever happen to him. 

You ground down on his legs in rhythmic motions, Bucky could feel the heat seeping through his expensive dress pants and it made him feel even hotter. He pushed his leg higher, reveling in the sounds that came from your lips and the very knowledge he was the one providing this pleasure. There was nothing more exhilarating. 

But still, it wasn’t enough. “There are too many layers of clothes between us, dove,” his wet breath brushed against your cheek as he pulled his thigh back for you to take off your jeans. 

“You’re so right.” You grinned and then pulled them down in one swift motion only to reveal a pink pear of panties underneath. 

In an instant, his body was pressed to yours again, his lips attaching to yours like magnets - he couldn’t get enough of the taste of you. But instead of placing his leg right back to get you that delicious friction, his hand began traveling down your front until it disappeared in your underwear. 

If you were any other woman, Bucky would’ve gone down on you. He would have dropped to his knees and eaten you out because he knew it was the fastest way he’d make you come. And he took pride in the fact that the women he was with always had at least one orgasm more than him. But he didn’t do so with you. 

Why?

Because Bucky Barnes got high off of your lips, and he couldn’t possibly imagine not seeing your face, feeling your mouth shape in a silent scream when he would make you come for the first time. 

So his hand had to do for now. His fingers slipped past the thin pink cotton and over your mound to gather your slickness. He gasped when he reached your heated core. “You’re so wet for me, love. So ready.” He pecked the corner of your lips. “So perfect.”

“Yes!” You whined and pressed your pussy into his touch. Bucky immediately started to trace circles on your clit. He took his time to find the motions with which your breath staggered, or your fists clenched in his shirt. With every whimper, every stroke of his hand, he felt his dick strain his pants a little more - the aching exciting him for when he could finally sink into you. 

“Shit, don’t stop. I’m so close.”

“I don’t plan on ever stopping.” He growled into your mouth, his hand movements becoming more frantic, the wet noises filling your apartment. Frankly, Bucky didn’t believe he could ever stop giving you pleasure and having you writhe in his arms with deep sighs. Not until he knew how you sounded cumming on his hand, on his face, on his dick, on the sofa, on the bed, and every other surface he could possibly imagine. Your body was like ecstasy.

Your walls began to clench around his fingers, every drag becoming harder as he imagined his cock being squeezed by you instead. “There you go, Baby. That’s it.”

“OH MY GOD!” You screamed as your hand pulled on his hair, your body growing rigid with pleasure and Bucky kissed every curse word from your lips. 

After a minute, he slowly pulled his hand back, the other caressing the skin on your cheek. “Are you okay?” He whispered, his eyes boring into yours in genuine concern. 

“Are you kidding? I’m more than okay. That was incredible.” Bucky couldn’t help the small chuckle from leaving his lips at your praise. 

“You look really fucking pretty when you come.”

“I’m glad. Because I want you to make me do it again.” You kissed his cheek. “And again.” And then you gently stroked his cock through his pants. “And again.”

And the second you said that Bucky pulled you onto the floor with him. He took his time removing your clothes, kissed the trial of your bra strap all the way down your shoulder, licked and bit at your hips all the way down to your ankles where he finally pulled off your underwear and pressed his lips to the soft skin of your leg. And when you were fully naked, he paused. Bucky’s eyes roamed your body, taking in every divot, every mark and curve of yours.

He sat back on his haunches, his head getting dizzy when the butterflies took over. “God, you’re so beautiful,” Bucky softly wheezed, his hand slowly stroking your leg as you lay spread out in front of him. 

“Come here.” You gestured with your arms open, welcoming him in your embrace with a wide smile. Bucky supported his weight with his arms on either side of your head and let your hands bury in his hair. He closed his eyes letting the warmth of your touch overtake him. Your thumbs stroked over his brows before you whispered: “Look at me.”

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry I doubted you. I feel the appreciation in the way you talk to me and touch me. It was unfair of me to assume you are your reputation.”

“No, it’s okay. It’s not like I made it easy for you to believe me.”

You chuckled and pressed a kiss to his lips. “Well, I do now.” Your eyes locked with his and a new fire lit within them. 

“Good.” He smirked and then rolled you over so that you were straddling his waist. The cool wooden floor hit his bare back as you had bunched his shirt up on the way, now pulling it over his head and revealing your satisfied stare when your hands traced over his abs.

You shook your head and released a breath. “Shame on me for refusing this for so long.” Your fingers passed his happy trail and began working on his belt. Bucky’s thumbs stroked your thighs as he watched you undress him, the tent in his pants ever so present and growing with every brush of your fingers. 

“Don’t worry, dove. We have all the time in the world to make up for it.” When his pants were off he pulled you forward again, kissing you ferociously. “‘Cause I’m not planning on leaving.”

You smirked and ground down on his cock, interrupting his speech and ripping a guttural sound from his chest. 

He had been holding back. Ever since you'd dragged him into that shelter, he had not touched a woman, because you had him hooked the second you had taken his hand on the way. And now he had to bite his tongue to keep himself from coming in his boxers like a school boy. 

“Are you getting nervous, Bucky?” You grinned and moved again to tease him a little more.

“Can you blame me?” He clenched his jaw when you rocked forward again, his hand stilling your hips with a near-bruising grip. “I’ve wanted you ever since I stepped foot in your shop.”

“You did?” Your head cocked to the side, surprise washing over your face and his dick twitched making Bucky’s cheeks heat up. 

“Yes...” He confessed only to be attacked with your kisses again. He groaned and bucked his hips up until you were a moaning mess on top of him. His hands reached around you, settling on your ass and giving it a small clap. 

“Hand me my walled, baby. It’s in my pants.”

“Why?”

“We need a condom if you don’t want to keep dry-humping me.” He smirked, knowing, feeling there was nothing dry about this anymore. Your arousal was already drenching his boxers. The slick pushing him close to losing it. 

“It’s okay. We don’t have to, I have an IUD.” 

“As much as I want to, we should be safe...” Bucky swallowed and averted his eyes in regret. “Have to get tested again.”

“Oh, ok.” You were disappointed, he could tell. And Bucky was too. It was the first time he ever regretted all his one-night stands because he would kill to fuck you raw and feel all of you. And as hazy as your body made him, he could not ignore the fact that he did have several different sex partners before. It would have to wait a few weeks. And when he would come back clean, he would keep you in the bedroom for a week straight.

You must have noticed his misery because you leaned forward and kissed his cheek. Then you scooched back and retrieved the condom from his wallet. Bucky held his breath when your fingers hooked into his waistband. And when you pulled them down, his cock stood proud and thick with precum already pearling from his tip. 

He reached for the shiny packet in your hand but you pulled your arm up, your eyes stuck on his cock. “Let me.”

“Okay,” he breathed out as he watched you rip the packet. His shaft twitched when your careful hands rolled the condom over him, another bead of precum dripping into the condom and before he could collect himself, you rubbed your pussy all over him, coating him in your arousal. 

Bucky’s hands turned into fists at your sides as he watched you finally sink down on him - inch by inch, your heat welcomed him, his body sparking with pleasure all over. You moaned in unison when he was fully seated inside you, his cock being hugged tightly in your warmth - he’d barely held it together then. 

You planted your hands on his abdomen and rocked forward, sending the both of you reeling. It took a second for Bucky to collect himself. His eyes closed and his nose huffing, he reminded himself of what he had promised you and what he wanted his first time with you to be. When he opened his eyes again, his hands moved over your body with determination. One setting over your breast, rolling your nipple between his fingers, the other began tracing tight circles on your clit. 

Your head fell back, a vision of ecstasy and pleasure unfolding before him when he sent you over the edge a second time. He slowed your hips on his and rubbed your pussy with his thumb. He needed you to come again. And then again, and he had to hold out for that long. But the way your chest heaved, the light sheen of sweat forming on your skin, made his plan more than difficult. 

It took all of Bucky’s willpower to pull you off his cock and push you to his legs. He sat up and kissed up your neck until he reached your lips. “What are you doing?”

“Giving you what you asked for.” He mumbled against your skin and then licked over your nipple, the other being caressed by his fingers. His free hand found its place right between your legs again and when you moaned lowly, he slipped two fingers inside you. 

Your pussy was squelching, the lewd sound traveling across the living room as Bucky worked you towards another release. You were already squirming in his hands again. Your fists pulled at his roots, sending a shiver straight to his cock when you leaned his head back. “You’re amazing.” Your breath was hot, fanning over his lips only to be replaced by them again. His tongue slipped inside and mimicking the movement of his fingers in your pussy. 

“Right back at ya, dove. I can't wait to be inside you again.”

“Then what are you waiting for?”

“For you to come again.” He bit your lip and sped up his fingers already feeling you squeeze him tightly. “So you’re satiated when I come deep inside you, feeling you squeeze me with that perfect pussy of yours until you see stars.”

“Shitshitshit. I’m coming!” A series of curses flew past him when you pulsed around his fingers, gushing all over his hand and lap until he finished rocking you through your third orgasm. 

“Fuck,” Bucky licked your juices off his fingers and his eyes rolled back into his head. 

“I don’t think I have another in me, Bucky.”

“Don’t worry, love. I got you.” And with that he hooked your legs around his waist, falling forward until you were with your back to the floor, Bucky hovering over you and aligning his length with your entrance. 

He couldn’t wait anymore, in one swift motion, Bucky fully bottomed out until his balls hit your ass. And when he was confident you were comfortable, he set a relentless pace. He had been on the edge this entire time. You had almost made him come just having him watch you let go. But there was nothing like the feeling of your pussy hugging him tightly, your body writhing beneath his, eyes squeezed shut in pleasure and nails raking down his back. 

“You feel so good,” he grunted and you just moaned in response.

“Look at me, please.” His hand turned your face. “I need to see you.” 

Bucky snapped his hips into yours even faster, your walls already clenching tightly around him and he threatened to burst. Your eyes opened and fell to his and Bucky couldn’t stop his orgasm from ripping through him anymore. His strokes stuttered, his balls tightened, but he held eye contact with you, searching your hand behind his back to lock your fingers with his. 

The white pleasure exploded within him, elevated by your own peak hitting with full force. He kissed you then, feeling like he was somewhere between heaven and your living room floor. His mind was consumed by you, his body tingling in aftershocks as he rocked you through your highs. 

His damp chest fell into yours when you came down. He rolled on his back, taking you with him, pressed deeply into his body, his cock still buried inside you. Bucky’s chest was heaving, the last remnants of pleasure sparkling in his nerves. He kissed your hand and cuddled you closer. 

This was what he was made for. To be with you, to be consumed by your affection and warmth. 

He smoothed over your head and felt your lashes flutter on his skin. His heart was blooming with contentment - all the fear he’d felt to commit was miles away, lost somewhere between the Ironbar and your doorstep. There was nothing he was more sure of. 

“Let me do this right. Let me take you out.” He whispered into your hair with a smile, trying to remember a time he’d ever been this happy. 

You snorted as your hand gently stroked over his chest. “Bucky, you’re literally ballsdeep inside of me right now.”

Bucky chuckled as well, his hand rubbed down your bare back in a soothing motion when he kissed your head. “Nothing like a convincing argument, huh.”

🫵 You cant get enough of this character? Go check out the chatbot I made for him! This way you can explore different endlings, plotlines, or just enjoy his company for a while longer 💕

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Woooow, you've made it this far! Thank you so much 💕 If you have some time to spare, I would reaaaally appreciate some feedback from you. A comment or a reblog can help so much to reach more people and improve writing. Talk to you soon ~Meg 💞

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Love you better- H.JS

So, LATAM Jisung did something to my heart and I had to write something for him 🫠 I was supposed to also post uno and chill part 2 today but I accidentally fell asleep during the afternoon and since it's already late, I won't be able to finish it. Good thing I have a long holiday and only come back to uni on Thursday so wait for a lot of updates during the following days (including an Easter special fic 🤭). Nari, if you see this, please don't freak out 😚

Word count: 1.9k

Warnings: smut, bros code breaking

Alexa, play Friends With Your Ex by Landon Barker

It all started the night you left Chan.

Not in a dramatic, Hollywoodian explosion. No screaming, no shattered plates, just silence. A final, tired “okay”, and the soft click of a door that didn’t reopen.

You didn’t know where to go, so you walked. It didn’t take long for your phone to buzz.

Hannie: you okay?

That was all it took.

He met you at that 24 hour diner which served bad coffee and greasy bacon slices. Han slid the booth across from you like it wasn’t the middle of the night, like you hadn’t just broken up with his best friend.

He didn’t pry, didn’t ask you why it ended, or if you were okay. He just sat there, gave you his hoodie when you started shivering and let you cry into a plate of pancakes.

And since then, he kept showing up.

You’d text each other more. Stupid jokes bloomed into real conversations. He helped you move boxes out of Chan’s place without asking questions. He made you laugh when no one else could. He gave you rides home late at night because ‘it’s not safe for you to walk'. But he never pushed or crossed a line— he just was there for you, in case you needed it.

Until the night everything changed.

You were sitting in his car parked in some random parking lot. Raindrops tapped against the windows, music playing low. You were wearing his hoodie again and this time, your knees were pulled up in the seat, chin resting on top of them.

“I don’t get it”, you murmured, staring at the blur of city lights outside, “How he just… stopped loving me”

Chan had always been a good man. A kind man. But he was never there. Always at the studio, always putting your relationship last. You didn’t break up with him because you stopped loving him— you did it because he forgot how to love you back.

Han exhaled softly, glancing at you from the driver’s seat, “I don’t think he stopped loving you”, he said quietly, “I think… he just didn’t know how to love you the way you needed”.

That made your chest tighten. You turned toward him, realizing there’s something heavy in his gaze— something he’d been trying not to say for weeks.

“Han…”

He leaned in just a little. Not enough to kiss you, just enough for you to feel the heat.

“I shouldn’t want this”, he said quietly, eyes flicking to your mouth.

“Yeah… you shouldn’t”

“But I do”

You don’t remember who leaned in first. Maybe it was him, maybe it was you. But suddenly, your mouths met like you’ve been starving, like every night he held back, rushed to the surface all at once. His hand cupped your jaw, thumb gently brushing your cheek and suddenly you were kissing him hard.

Messy. Desperate. The car windows started to fog with your breath, your bodies twisting in the cramped front seat. Your legs slid over his lap and his hands grabbed your waist as he tried to stop himself— but he couldn't.

“He never touched you like this, did he?”, he murmured against your neck, teeth grazing your sensitive skin.

“That’s so wrong”, you whispered, but you were already pulling his hoodie off.

“Then why does it feel this good? Why aren’t you stopping me, huh?”, he groaned, voice rough as his lips found your collarbone.

Because the truth was— you were not just kissing Han. You were kissing every stolen glance. Every accidental touch. Every night you wished someone saw you the way he always did.

It was messy, forbidden— everything you were not supposed to want.

But in that moment with Han’s hands under your shirt and his voice whispering your name like you owned him— you finally felt wanted again.

“You’re still not stopping me”, Han breathed, voice hoarse against your skin.

He was right, you weren’t. You should. But your fingers were already tangled in the hem of his shirt, already tugging it up, palms sliding over the warm lines of his stomach as you straddled him in the driver’s seat.

Your breath hitched when your hands traced over his inked skin— his tattoos, surprisingly familiar, mapped out across his muscles.

“God”, you whispered, brushing your fingertips over just under his ribs, “These always drove me crazy”.

Han let out a low groan, eyes closing as he leaned into your touch, “You’ve barely seen them” he said, voice rough.

“I saw enough”, you whispered, lips ghosting over his neck, “I just didn’t let myself want to. It had been three long weeks, you know”

His hands found your hips like instinct when you grinded down on his lap, head falling back against the headrest. “Fuck”, he groaned.

You kissed him again, your teeth clashing slightly. He moaned into your mouth like he didn’t care that this was sinful. Bros code? He barely remembered it existed.

His hands were everywhere— trailing up your thighs, gripping your hips, sliding under your shirt until he gripped your bare waist like he needed to hold on or he’d have lost himself completely.

“We can’t do this, Yn… Tell me to stop”, he said suddenly, breath shaking.

But your reply was a soft, “Don’t stop”, whispered into the curve of his neck. You didn’t want him to stop, not when he touched you like that.

You rolled your hips over his lap slowly and he let out the filthiest sound you’ve ever heard from him.

Han’s hands gripped you tighter, his jaw clenched. “Jesus”, he muttered, kissing down your jaw, “You’ve been in my head for weeks. Every time you looked at me like you needed me… I couldn’t think straight”

You whimpered as he slid his hand under your bra, gently, thumbs brushing over your nipples. He pulled your shirt up, just enough to kiss the curve of your chest, hot and desperate, leaving a purple stain there. Even though it was sloppy and frantic, it made you cry out his name.

“Hannie…”

That definitely did something to him. His eyes flicked up, then he pulled you back in for another kiss— this time deeper, filthier, full of tongue and need and everything he’d been holding back.

You could feel how hard he was beneath you, straining in his jeans, as you rocked down again, dragging a soft whine from his throat.

“You keep doing that and I’m not gonna last”, he growled.

“I don’t want you to last”, you whispered, “I just want you to”

He let out a harsh exhale, more like a curse, then leaned forward. “Backseat”, he muttered, eyes dark with lust, “Now”.

You crawled over, and he followed right behind, pulling the door shut with one hand and dragging your hips into his lap again. This time, it was faster, hungrier. He slid your panties down your thighs without fully undressing you, and the thrill of it made your pulse race.

His fingers slid between your legs, and he cursed under his breath. “Damn, you’re soaked”

You arched into his touch, head falling back. “This is so bad”, you pant, “So, so… ah… wrong”

“Then why…”, he murmured, kissing the corner of your lips as he sank two fingers inside you without any warnings, “Does it feel so fucking good?”

You gasped, grinding down against his hand, and he watched you unravel, like he was trying to memorize every twitch, every moan, every part of you.

He fucked you with his fingers slow at first, curling them just right, until your hips were jerking and your nails digging into his shoulders.

“Let me make you forget him”, he whispered.

And god, you did. You fell apart in his lap with his name on your lips, and when you came down, trembling and breathless, he already got his jeans undone, already guiding you on him with a look that said: ‘Please, just this once, let me have you’.

You took him teasingly slow. As you sank down on him, your fingers clutched the back of the seat, lips parted in shock at how good it felt— how right it felt even when it shouldn’t.

His hands held your hips, anchoring you as you started to move.

The car rocked, the windows fogged and the world outside disappeared.

All that was left was Han— his body, his voice, his mouth. The desperate gasps, and whispered curses.

“You feel so fucking good, sweetheart…. better than I ever imagined”, he groaned, head falling back.

That made you pause, “You… imagined this before?”

With eyes closed shut, he nodded, breath shaky, chest rising and falling fast. “Every time something went wrong”, he whispered, voice wrecked. “Every time he ignored your feelings cause he was at the studio. Every time you showed up glowing in a new dress and he barely looked at you before saying you looked pretty cause he had a deadline”

A choked sound escaped him— half groan, half confession— as he thrusted into you again. “Fuck… every time I thought, ‘I could be better for her. I could actually make her happy’ “.

Your eyes stung. From the overwhelming pleasure but also from him. From the way he was baring himself to you in a way no one else ever has.

You blinked, lashes heavy with tears, a lump forming in your throat. And then you kissed him. Hard. Deep. With everything— every buried feeling, every confused moment over the past few weeks.

You kissed him like he was the only thing that made sense in the middle of the wreckage you’d been walking through. And he kissed you back like he’d been waiting years. Like this was a secret he was finally allowed to speak.

His thrusts started to lose rhythm, stuttering, desperate, like he was chasing the edge just as hard as you were. The windows were completely fogged now, your skins slick with sweat, your hands gripping his shoulders like they’re the only solid thing left in the world.

You were so close it hurt, each grind sending heat spiraling low in your belly, pressure curling tight until you gasped, eyes wide and unfocused.

“Fuck, I’m…” you started, but he cut you off.

“I know, me too, just come with me”

And when he reached up to brush a strand of hair from your face, all while looking at you like you were the whole sky, that was what tipped you over. Your body tensed, then unraveled all at once— hot and shuddering, pleasure crashing over you in waves so strong you almost forgot to breathe.

He followed with a low moan of your name, hands gripping your hips as he came, pulling you down hard against him one last time.

Everything went silent, save for the sound of your panting breaths and the soft hum of the car engine.

You were still wrapped around him when he murmured, “I meant it, you know”

You blinked, heart still racing, “What?”

“All of it”, he said, voice low. “I know it is still soon, but I could be better for you. I want to be. I want to make you happy”

Your chest tightened. No one had ever said something like that after sex. Not to you, not like that.

You leaned forward, brushing your nose against his, and whispered, “You already are”

Han smiled, lazily and crooked, and then he added, “Also… you definitely ruined my backseat forever”

You laughed, breathless and full of something bright and warm and real. “Worth it, tho” you say.

“Guess we’ll just have to use the front seat next time”, he grinned.

You laughed harder this time, still tangled together, still flushed and bare and glowing. And then, you realized:

You might be completely fucked up

But maybe… you were exactly where you were supposed to be.

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[bejeweledinterludes]

faith let's talk about sub!dean ( I need to write another smut piece for that man so help a girl out ) I for a fact know that man - for all his charisma and deep voice - moans, whimpers and whines mostly during sex. a few grunts here and there.

"Sam winchester cries his way through way sex." well with how you behave sometimes I'm not sure he's the only one dean I can see those pretty eyes pooling with tears bcz it feels so good and I need to sedated.

he's a touch starved man so overtimulating him is not hard and he loves it. he loves the after burn it leaves and the shaking of his thighs and the absolute exhaustion. it feels good.

he's also a big fan of dry humping ( god yes I get you on this topic girl. I. GET. YOU. ) he's a 6'1 built like a fucking tank man but sometimes all he wants to do is ride your thigh ( full clothed or atleast with his jeans still on ) until he's shaking and sobbing and whining and making a mess.

I need to be put down

oh mahi mahi mahi… YES LET’S TALK ABOUT IT. THIS AND LITERALLY EVERYTHING IN BETWEEN! couldn’t resist so here’s a lil sub ! dean for all ya freaks (me included). told you he wasn’t going away!

but you minors should! 18+, mature themes ahead!

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sam dean winchester cries his way through sex.

OR sub ! dean headcanons. why? BECAUSE I SAID SO.

『 a very special part 4 of my headcanon series. 』

𖤐 ────────────────────────

> so along with everything mahi just said up above (thank you my love <3 you better write that smut now girl), i really do believe that dean is somewhat of a submissive— if not that, definitely a switch. now, this is not a new take of mine. i’ve written about sub ! dean, because he is canon (TO ME!), but here’s some headcanons that i have curated (in my freaky lil mind) so far!

> you didn’t know that dean was submissive when you first started dating / fucking— but after a while being in a relationship with him (and to his own surprise, not leaving when things got tough), he felt safe and comfortable enough to let it show, little by little.

> it started with minuscule things. things you wouldn’t have noticed unless you looked hard enough. dean’s face would get the tiniest shade of pink whenever you praised him for something— and it could’ve literally been anything.

for example, you once told him how strong he was after you’d asked him to help you move something. he thought about it the rest of the day. and that night. and the next day.

> and then there’s the touching. you were always touching dean, and he you. it was a shared love language between you both (and one of the things dean loved most about you, because you were just as touchy as he was.).

early on in your relationship, dean was always the big spoon, no matter where or how you both slept. he was the protector, the soldier keeping you safe from harm all night long.

later, though, after a particularly brutal hunt with a few losses, dean let that facade fall away. that night, when you’d already been asleep after you showered all the blood off, dean curled up into you, resting his head on your chest while wrapping a strong arm around you, keeping you close. tonight, he decided, was his turn to feel safe.

so now, it’s around 50 / 50. you don’t exactly take turns being the big spoon or even the ‘stronger one’. no, you lean on each other, comforting the other when needed, holding, touching kissing— and it’s just what dean’s always dreamed about, wanted, but never let himself have.

> if that didn’t solidify it, this next one sure did. dean usually took control, or you both had an even mix of power during sex— still dean always treated you like you were something holier than thou. every single time, without fail. and you, him. honestly, that should’ve been your first clue, but hey. anyways, back to the control thing.

you’d been making out in the dean cave for quite a while, so much so that both your lips were chapped to high heaven. usually, by now, dean would flip you over, pick you up, do something— but he didn’t. you weren’t exactly sure why, so you break your lips from his, meeting dean’s blown out pupils looking up at you as you straddle his lap in one of the recliners. and then you hear something you never thought you’d hear come out of your six-foot, badass ‘n tough boyfriend.

a whine— yes, a whine escaped him before he could stop it. he didn’t even think about it, it was a knee-jerk reaction to the loss of the feeling of your lips against his. needless to say, you pulled sounds like that out of him almost the entire night.

> speaking of sounds, mahi is very right. this man is not deeply groaning all the time when he’s knockin’ boots with you. no matter what, he’s a mess, in every sense of the word. he’s letting moans out while his eyes are screwed shut, whimpering— and yes, whining.

> i’ve heard of mr. dean winchester crying his way through sex and am no stranger to it— because i wholeheartedly agree. i’ve seen countless fics on it (honestly might write my own too HAHAH) and i believe with every bone in my body that yes, dean winchester, the killing machine who ganks monsters for a living, would cry right into your neck as you fuck him (or he fucks you).

the first time it happened, it was definitely unexpected— for both of you, but you’d be an idiot and one heartless bitch to make fun of him or tease him for it. it wasn’t planned or even talked about. he was thrusting into you, and all of a sudden, he just dropped his body weight on top of you completely while still very much buried inside of you.

you don’t comprehend what was happening at first— but then you hear and feel the tiniest sniffle against your skin.

it had been a bad week. scratch that, maybe even a bad month. dean was drowning, you could see it. you never pushed too hard though, in fear of him shutting down— now though, this was the complete opposite. and hell, it made your heart break. so you just hold him against you, running your fingers up and down his bare back, kissing on his temple and hair as he simultaneously lets out little choked sounds of sobs hit your skin while still attempting to fuck you. he’s a little embarrassed after all is said and done, but you were the one to wipe the remnants of tears off his face.

> now as for dry humping, one word. yes. i have written a whole little fic about this ( shoutout @figthoughts my telepathy twin !!! <3 ) and will most definitely write one in the future or something similar. the aspect of grinding on each other still being fully clothed, and the intimacy behind it is sooooo important to dean. you knew you both could full well strip down and just get to it— but sometimes (all the times), dean likes cumming right in his jeans because of you.

> say it with me now: this man craves praise! he eats it up almost as much a gas ‘n sip burrito! he’s lacked it his entire life, and now the fact that one of the few people that was actually close to him reminding him daily of how much he meant, how much he mattered to you? hell, he was a goner.

but then again, he kinda always knew that when it came to you.

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my master taglist (so far): @blossomingorchids @bluemerakis @ambiguous-avery @maddie0101 @titsout4jackles @deansbeer @sunsbaby @emeraldcrs @h8aaz @honeyryewhiskey @supernotnatural2005 @cowboysandcigarettes @soldiersgirl @figthoughts @mostlymarvelgirl @amaris444 @kaz-2y5-spn @littlesoulshine @starzify @velvetparkerx @eggggggggggggggggggggsblog @fuckedupfate @liiiilsss @angelblqde @vmiina @mahi-wayy @viarasvogue @tinas111 + if i missed anyone OR if you want to be added/taken off, please let me know! <3

[bigfatbimbo]

holyyyy shitttt I’ve never run into a writing blog I agree with so much! refusal to write dom!male characters? you’re speaking my language here, seriously! the sub bill fic/concept was so godly too actually what the fuck?????

despite that — I actually came here to speak about Stanford lol. I’d just be so curious to hear any thoughts you have on sub! ford really, whether hcs, a drabble, or just you going on a general little rant over how you think he’d be like. sorry if this is too vague!!!

a/n — anon, your so real!! I literally cannot write dom!male characters without getting icked out — also i’m glad you liked the bill fic!

warnings — dom!reader, sub!ford, gender-neutral reader, mentions of various kinks

summary — [SMUT] headcanons of reader and sub!Ford

ᯓ★ I genuinely do not know why people would be think this man doms, he is such a bottom.

ᯓ★ He has very little experience, maybe he got lucky at a party in college or met a hot alien during his time in the portal, but he might as well be a virgin.

ᯓ★ He’d probably be very nervous your first time together, fumbling taking his clothes off, not knowing where to start.

ᯓ★ His confidence has come along way but he’s still a nerd at heart, and he’d get flustered so easily.

ᯓ★ His praise kink would be so unmatched.

ᯓ★ Call him good and smart while talking him through it, he deals with so many high tension situations, he’d love you to be soft with him.

ᯓ★ “Pretty boy” would ruin him. After being bullied for being a freak all his life, even if he is genuinely over it now, it’s still be jarring to be praised for his looks.

ᯓ★ He would literally feel such a relief when you tell him you’d be leading, like “ah, yes. perhaps that’s.. a good idea.”

ᯓ★ Ford is probably immensely touch-starved after everything he’s been through. He’d want you to touch him literally everywhere.

ᯓ★ He would probably be pretty vanilla, anything to crazy would freak him out.

ᯓ★ Not a fan of degradation, where is the pleasure in being openly mocked by a loved one?

ᯓ★ After a little bit, he would probably feel bad for making you do all the work, so he’d try to do things for you to make it up to you.

ᯓ★ However, only to realize he wants constant reassurance while doing that too. Even when he’s fingering you and treating you nice, a ‘good boy’ every now and then would make him fold.

ᯓ★ And it’s probably always deserved too.. He’s a genius and a scientist, it’s not crazy to say he knows a thing or two about anatomy. Things to enhance your pleasure.

ᯓ★ Would love pegging, probably already knows about it, but you’d still have to ask first. And even then he’d be incredibly nervous and not masking it well.

ᯓ★ Probably cannot go for a long time or do that many rounds. Look, he’s old… I don’t know what you people expect when you’re into a 60+ year old man.

ᯓ★ Will always help out during aftercare no matter how tired out he is. Even if you insist he rest, he’ll still get you glass of water at the very least.

[couldeatthatgirlforlunch]

Hello!! Can I request dating hcs of Rex x hypersexual!reader? With him helping them heal from their trauma and fear (and longing) of intimacy and being touched? Thank you, i love the way you write fics 🫶🫶

Thanks baby😘

This is based on my own experience with hypersexuality and the topics you described

Rex Sloan X Hypersexual!Gn!Reader

I think Rex is also hypersexual, or at least has some tendencies, so he'd understand a lot. I also think he would learn more about himself while trying to help you

He knows how sometimes your mind is buzzing with bad thoughts and stress, and the only thing that seems to calm it is by thinking about sex, especially when you're trying to sleep and just can't 

He knows sometimes sex feels like the solution to all problems

And that hipersexuality is a problem because it’s prejudicial to your life, in the sense that maybe you're trying to focus on something else, like studying, working, or a hobby, but your mind just. Won't. Stop. 

Sex sex sex sex sex sex sex sex sex sex sex sex sex sex sex sex

But he's still learning to think before talking, and he just came to terms with the fact that he's actually very empathic 

So he might ask how you feel and what you're thinking from time to time, and what do you think that made you be hypersexual 

He doesn't want you to commit the same mistakes he did, so he makes sure your sexual dynamic with each other is very healthy, obnoxiously healthy, to the point that it's even funny how he’ll just stop in the middle of it to ask “do you want it or do you enthusiastically want it?” with the most serious expression, one it's even weird to see on him, because he's just so goofy

Because if the bar is high enough, you never will accept anything less, just like people with healthy families usually don't accept other people treating them like shit 

He's scared shitless that he’ll accidentally or indirectly hurt you, either because he didn't make sure how you felt, or because you were too good at pretending

He's ruined so many good things before, he doesn't want to do it anymore 

You might have intrusive thoughts, like really, intrusive thoughts. Not the ones most people are used to like “what if I threw my phone out of the window?”, but the real ones. If you have it you know what I’m talking about. 

I’m not sure he has them, because if you have them, you probably hide them, but he surprises you when he takes it seriously, not just thinking you're a freak, or a creep, or a weirdo. He understands right away they're not something you want, you don't condone those actions, you think they're the worst thing the could happen, and yet, your mind is so broken that it throws those thoughts at you, trying to make you hate yourself, and it might even work, and Rex makes sure you know it's not your fault, it's just a mental illness, there's nothing wrong with you, it's common, just talk to him baby, talking will make you feel better

He also becomes clingy, even performing PDA if you're into that. Just because your mind is thinking about all the different sexual scenarios you could do, doesn't mean you want sex, half the time you just want to be held, kissed and feel important. Just receive some attention and love. And he’ll enjoy doing that

Especially in the beginning of your relationship, he understands you might be confused on how to proceed, overthinking, and you might even try to distance yourself from him

Jokes on you, he's not gonna let that happen

I mean, see how his relationship with Rae started on the 3rd season, bro really worked for her

If he didn't like you as much, he would give up, honestly. Rex from the 1st and 2nd season would just offer himself to be your booty call

If you're touch starved, he understands that maybe you feel insecure about that, that the simple act of holding hands and rubbing your thumb on someone’s skin just isn’t second nature to you, isn't your first instinct, when you do it, you're actively thinking about it, afraid to move and disturb the peace, or make him stop touching you

Like one of those videos of abused animals who freak out at the simple mention of someone getting close to them, and when someone does, they need several minutes to get used to it 

He won't judge you for maybe being somewhat socially awkward on that aspect, he actually likes that you aren't used to just throwing yourself at anyone who gives you crumbs of attention, and ruining yourself in the process, almost like he did. It's not worth it, it's humiliating, it changes you so much that you can't recognize yourself in the end

It takes some time, but you get used to having him clinging to you at all and random moments of the day

He wants your first time together to be especial, and when you truly want it, so he doesn't even takes the first step, you have to do it 

I see you just sleeping in the same bed, fully clothed, every night, for several weeks (even months, if that's your thing), before actually having sex

Doesn't mean he won't make out with you, when you're comfortable with that. And he tries not to be the old him that would just grab your ass right away, instead, Rex learns that he likes to just… Explore 

He squeezes your waist, he touches your hair, your scalp, he breathes your scent. He rounds his arms around you and just has nice, quiet conversations. He lays his head on your chest, stomach and lap, closes his eyes, and his mind is suddenly empty, while you take initiative and run your fingers through his ginger locks. He holds your hand when he takes you out

He spoils you, he was never the type of guy to do that, he liked being spoiled instead

Now, he just thinks he needed to meet the right person

He cooks, it's not good, but he's trying to impress and make you happy

He learns your hobbies, and spends quality time with you. You have to know he's not with you just for sex, just for your body, your mind is just as sexy to him babygurl~ (in a gn way)

He shows you his home magazines and you talk about your future home together, despite how surreal it feels, how impossible it seems, how scary, not only to you, but also him. But he wants this. He finally has something good. A purpose in life

And even if you express some negative thought, he’s surprisingly good at comforting and reassuring, on his own unserious and abrasive way

Suddenly, your mind is a lot more peaceful

General masterlist

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[exoticb-utters]

Hello!

Sooo happy I found your blog! I’ve been absolutely loving your Hank McCoy stuff (and honestly allll of your writings)

I was wondering if you might have time to write something angsty- confessing love kind of thing for the reader and Nightcrawler? I’ve always been a fan of his. He always seems to me that he’d be touch starved, despite being so charming.

FORGIVE ME FOR TAKING FOREVER ON THIS 😭😭😭😭😭😭

“Flufftober” series. 3 🎃 Kurt X GN Reader ‘Fluff’ Word Count: 1.2k

You stared at your ceiling. You couldn’t sleep, again. Try as you might, your brain wouldn’t let you get a wink tonight for some reason. 

You roll over to your side with a huff, looking at your bedside clock. It was two in the morning.

You smash your head against your pillow with an exasperated groan. You’d been like this for the past few weeks, on and off thankfully- but it was still annoying. 

You’d been under so much stress lately. Not just as an X-man, but a certain member of your team was driving you crazy. 

It was Kurt, obviously. 

The blue devil couldn’t stay out of your mind, no matter how hard you tried to shoo him away…so you could at least get some shut-eye.  

It was just so hard. He was so kind, nurturing, honest, passionate, and a goof- oh, you’re getting carried away when you should be sleeping…once again. 

You shouldn’t keep lying to yourself like this, giving yourself false hope. He was friendly to everyone, that was just Kurt. And you were no exception, just another X-Men…just another friend.

You sit up, rubbing your eyes with a yawn. Fresh air and a good ol’ walk by the tree line should do you some good. 

You quietly tip-toe down the stairs, careful not to wake anyone at this hour. However, it was unlikely for people with keen senses like Logan. But still, you tried. 

After throwing on a pair of shoes and a jacket, you slipped outside through the back door. 

You made your way down the grassy hills, leaves crunching underneath your feet as you made your way toward the forest. It was dark, with nothing but the stars and moonlight accompanying you tonight. 

A brisk autumn breeze rushes past you, dancing through the tree’s amber leaves. It was so calming, just watching nature move. 

You took a deep breath, the sweet smell of fall surrounding you. Just what you needed.

“Is everything okay Mein Freund?” A startling puff of air sounded behind you. 

You jump, yelping while grabbing your chest with a hand. “Kurt!” You whisper-tell, coughing from the smoke trails he left behind from his ‘bamphing’. 

“I’m sorry to startle you,” He said bashfully, flashing you his pointed canines in a toothy grin. “I noticed you sneak out alone- late in the night and I got worried!” He nervously chuckled, scratching at his neck.

You sighed, shaking your head with a soft smile on your face. “Oh Kurt, always worrying about others…” 

“I just wanted some…air is all.” You add with a shrug, huffing out a laugh. 

“Ah, I see…” He nods his head before looking up. “Well, it is a beautiful night out.” You hum with him in agreement. 

“Would you like to join me?” You ask reluctantly. His yellow eyes shifted back to you, a gentle smile still lingering in his expression. “Of course.” 

With that, you take his hand and pull him down to lie in the grass with you. You both land on leaves and soft grass, looking up at the stars littering the night sky.

While his gaze was directed upwards, his mind was freaking out over the fact you were touching his hand. 

He’s never touched- held hands before. This was all so new to him. Was he freaking out right now? He was definitely freaking out. He was feeling too hot. No, it was too cold outside to feel that warm. There had to be something wrong with him. Was there something wrong with him? Oh God, he’s going to be sick. 

“Kurt?” Your voice pulled Kurt out of his daze. 

“Y-Yes?” He shook his head, clearing his thoughts. “Nothing, just thought I’d lost you there.” You chuckle, watching Kurt’s eyes dart between you and your hand. 

You follow his line of sight before realizing your hand was still wrapped around his. “Oh! Sorry about that, forgot I was still doing that…” You release his hand, a little too quickly for Kurt’s liking.

His eyes furrowed in a frown. Did you not like holding his hand? It was a reaction he was used to, people not wanting to be around him because of his appearance. He was a mutant after all, and a very blue one at that. 

“It’s fine…did that make you…uncomfortable?” He asked you softly, voice barely above a whisper. 

You were taken aback. Had you hurt his feelings? This was all so confusing…

“No, I just..thought you didn’t want to hold mine…” You say, your gaze fixed on the stars, not having enough strength to look at Kurt. 

“It’s quite alright, I do not mind!” He smiles at you, taking a hold of your hand. “W-well as long as you’re comfortable with it.” You say as nonchalantly as possible. There was nothing nonchalant about this situation right now, you were making physical contact with the man you’ve been pining for the past few years! You were freaking out.

“I actually…really like you if I’m being honest.” He randomly blurts out, his statement effectively getting you to shoot up and look at him with wide eyes. 

“Oh, you don’t…feel the same, do you?” He states, rather than trying to find confirmation. He looks down at his hand still holding yours, disappointment written all across his features. 

Before you can explain yourself, he’s gone in a puff of blue-purple tendrils. You cough, waving your hand to clear the smoke from his vanishing act. Nice, real smooth. You scared him off. 

You get up, running to the mansion with nothing to lose…Well, other than sleep since it was late. But you had to find Kurt before he got the wrong idea. 

You spot him in a tree, sitting on a thick branch with his tail leisurely hanging off the side. Was he really just gonna sit there like you couldn’t see him? 

“Kurt!” You whisper-yelled, standing at the trunk of the tree. 

“Agh, I think I’ve embarrassed myself enough for one night! Let me wallow in self-pity alone…please…” He trailed off with a groan, leaning his head back to hit it against the tree. “Alright I’m coming up there-“ 

“WAIT!” You stop your advances up the tree, raising a brow questionably at him. “I-I’ll just come to you…” He mumbles. 

In a flurry of bamphs, he lands in front of you, his head hanging in humiliation. You let out a sigh before pulling him into an embrace. “What’s all this for?” He nervously chuckles, his arms moving stiffly to pat your back. 

First the hand holding, now hugs. Kurt feared he might explode from all the warmth and affection from you. 

“I like you Kurt.” You murmur, just loud enough for him to hear. 

When you’re met with no response, you open an eye to peek at his reaction, just to find a purple flush blooming on his blue complexion. And when you advert your gaze downwards, you notice his forked tail swaying. That was adorable…

“This might be the best day of my life.”

[mbbmz]

Hi! I just discovered your blog and I'm loving it🩷 can i ask if you have headcanon about Bonten Sanzu in love with his best female friend? a bit red flag? including smut if possible. if you don't write for Sanzu, ran is also fine. sorry for the inconvenience, it's the first time I've made a request🥹 and sorry for English, it's not my first language. Thank you so much. now I'm going to read all your other works, bye 🩷🩷

Bonten!Sanzu x BestFriend!Reader (sfw and nsfw)

Thanks for your request love, you’re so sweet! Sorry i didn’t write this sooner, hope you’ll read and enjoy! Sorry if it’s not as sweet as you wanted, I really wanted to keep the Bonten energy and not sugarcoat it

SFW

- Sanzu is very focused on Bonten and on Mikey particularly, so I don’t see him being interested in romantic pursuit.

- But if you were previously his friend and he finds himself catching feelings for you, he won’t do anything about it for a while.

- Boy’s in denial at first

- But he realizes that your life doesn’t stop when he stops talking to you and that while he’s not around, you’re getting hit on.

- I think Sanzu view people as either possessions or tools for Bonten to grow, in that case he sees you as a possession. (The others are just scraps)

- Very controlling, he wants to know where you are at all times, even when you’re not dating.

-Would kill someone if you wanted, no questions asked

- Although when he wants to take care of you, he DOES

- When you’re feeling unwell he’s already searching for doctors, even though you tell him it’s fine

- He likes to do your hair for you, sometimes it’s perfect sometimes it’s a mess, you never know with him (he does it on purpose)

- Unironically asks you to skip work to stay with him

- He is very touchy, whether you’re dating or not. And it’s very weird because I see him as someone who hates touch but with you it’s an addiction

- Will not sugarcoat the truth, you will know the exact details of how he tortured that man who betrayed Bonten

NSFW

-WILD

- Bro loves to try new things

- Control is a must, if he feels like he’s losing control he’ll pull away really fast

- Loves to pin your wrists, tie them with either his tie or sometimes your own panties (he’s just like that sometimes)

- Will degrade you and praise you at the same time, creating a confusing mix

- "You like it, huh? Such a good slut f’me babe…"

- Doesn’t use toys because he thinks nothing feels better than his dick (he also has that ego)

- Loves to eat you out but also loves to see you choke on his cock, will press his finger on your throat just to hear you gag

- Speaking of eating you out, there’s no leaving unscathed with this one.

- He might be really clean in every day’s life, in bed he’ll eat you out like he’s starved, holding your thighs down because he loves it when you cannot move

- Will moan against your pussy if you pull his hair

- Always wears condoms (he’s a neat freak so that just makes sense, PROTECT YOURSELVES <3)

- Soft groans and sometimes whimpers, but his hands pinning you down never let you forget who’s in control

(I have so much headcanons for him, maybe I’ll do an nsfw alphabet 🤭)

[save-the-villainous-cat]

Absolutely in love with your writing, I've been scrolling through the hero×villain tag and holishit it's just you, that's insane, you're awesome. I'm not sure if you still do asks? But if so I was wondering if you could do some flirty!villain × touch starved!hero? Spice is always welcome in any flavor but no pressure on it

“So.” The villain tilted their head and let their eyes flutter open. “What exactly is the problem?”

The hero looked simply awful.

Their eyes were wide open, they were sweating. They’d been clenching their jaw ever since they’d taken a step into the villain’s office.

“…I am here for negotiation purposes only,” the hero said. They pushed the file they’d been holding across the table. “I just need your signature on page five, then I’ll be out of your hair.”

The hero looked out of the window. They bit the inside of their cheek.

And the villain didn’t even look at the file. As if the little show unfolding in front of them deserved less attention than pieces of paper.

On purpose, the villain sighed audibly.

The hero’s gaze returned to them.

“Negotiation.” The villain stood up. “Negotiation stems from negotium. Do you know what that means?”

They walked around the table until they were standing right in front of the hero. They leaned against their desk, their tailbone pressed against its edge, and stared at their lovely nemesis who had adopted the usual deadpanned face.

“Ugh, you and your word games.”

“Negotium can be translated as business. Employment.” They gently brushed the hero’s jaw. “…affair.”

The hero looked away.

“I’m not interested in business right now. Something is troubling you. I didn’t want to say this, but this file could have been an email. You came here because you wanted to see me. So.” The villain brushed the hero’s bottom lip with their thumb. “Don’t be shy now. Tell me what it is.”

“I…” The hero was a very lovely person. The villain knew how capable they were, how talented. However, they had also noticed that their nemesis was a little…lost? Lonely?

The hero didn’t seem to fit in with other heroes that well. Their teamwork was incredibly lacking and they preferred to work on their own. However, they had slowly started to open up to the villain.

Which the villain could have used to their advantage.

Unfortunately, the hero intrigued them a little too much.

And they had already made out before. Once. Maybe twice. The villain’s eyes narrowed. Technically three times. How horrible.

So, the villain was a little attached now. (Which wasn’t a good sign, the villain hoped they could sleep that off in the next few weeks.)

“What is it, dearest?” the villain asked again, their fingers pushing some loose hair out of the hero’s eyes. They didn’t even notice how their voice dropped, didn’t notice how they were basically purring for the hero again.

“There’s…there’s this bounty on my head. I wasn’t aware of it until yesterday. I couldn’t sleep, I’m…so afraid of going home. I mean, yes, I can defend myself perfectly fine but if there are five people on rooftops, trying to shoot my head off? How on earth am I…” They rubbed over their eyes. “My anxiety is going crazy and I…I’m sorry, I don’t know what I’m asking for.”

“You must trust me a lot, then. After all, I could end you right here.” The villain let their fingertips go over the hero’s throat now. Gently. Very gently.

Christ, the hero was so pretty to look at.

“Yeah, I thought…I mean, you and me, we…what we did, what we have, I know it’s not normal per se, so I thought you could give me some advice or something…”

“Well, I think it’s totally reasonable to be scared. You’re a target of high interest. So, logically you’re in a lot of danger.”

The hero took in a shaky breath, nodding.

“But I also think you’re safe here. Who knows what happens when you freak out? Maybe you end up losing control over your powers, maybe you end up hurting people. So, breathe in. Breathe out.”

The hero did.

“There we go. Easy.” The villain touched their cheek. “It’s okay.”

Suddenly, the hero stood up from their seat and leaned over, making the villain’s heart drop. They grabbed the villain’s wrists.

“Can you…I mean, would you help me with this?” Those damn puppy eyes. “Please, I just…”

The hero guided the villain’s arms to rest on their shoulders and the villain couldn’t help but bury their fingers in the hero’s hair.

“I don’t know how to deal with a bounty and you…you make me feel so secure, I know I shouldn’t.” The hero’s eyes dropped to the villain’s lips. Oh God, why was their heartbeat stuck in their throat? The villain’s eyes widened. They weren’t supposed to get attached to an enemy. “…I can’t help myself, I think of you all the time.”

“Is something else on your mind? This doesn’t seem to be bounty related,” the villain murmured. “Your heart is beating pretty fast and you’re blushing.”

Come on. Confess, so I don’t have to.

The hero let their head drop and rest on the villain’s shoulder.

“…like I said, you calm me down.” the hero said. Their voice was quiet now. “…what we did on Friday, can we do that again?”

“Right now? In my office?” The villain’s mouth curled into a smile.

“If it’s not too much trouble. I felt really good afterwards.”

“Fine. Take your clothes off,” the villain said. “And try to stay quiet this time.”

[littlelamy]

Hi, i wanted to ask if you could write something with rafe cameron x baddie reader I'm talking like someone like maddy from euphoria. I'm sick of all the i can fix fics he needs someone who matches his freak

note: didn't know if you wanted smut, but i'm in a smutty mood 🙂‍↕️

you’re not the girl people warn him about. you’re the girl people warn him to stay the fuck away from.

rafe cameron is trouble. everyone knows it, everyone whispers about it when he walks into a room—spoiled rich boy with anger issues, a temper that burns too hot, too fast. he’s the kind of man that destroys anything good he touches, the kind that doesn’t just ruin lives, but enjoys doing it.

but you? you’re something else entirely.

when you meet, it’s not some soft, lingering moment. it’s heat. it’s pressure. it’s a collision. you’re in his space, dripping in gold and confidence, a dress so short and tight it should be illegal, lashes so long they sweep against your brow bone when you blink at him like you already know you own him. because you do.

"you're staring, cameron," you purr, swirling your drink, lips painted in the kind of red that stains, that marks.

his tongue swipes across his bottom lip, sharp blue eyes dragging over your body, slow and deliberate. he's cocky, always is, but you can see the way his fingers twitch at his sides. wanting. needing.

"not used to seeing a girl like you around here."

"that's because there aren’t girls like me," you correct, taking a step closer. the scent of your perfume, expensive and intoxicating, wraps around him. "you like what you see?"

he exhales a low chuckle, but there's something darker in his gaze. something dangerous. "i think you already know the answer to that."

it goes like this—fast, reckless, inevitable. you're both fire and gasoline, a match struck in the middle of a fucking drought.

"keep up, cameron," you taunt one night, tossing your hair over your shoulder as you lean against his car.

his jaw clenches, fingers flexing at his sides. "you love teasing me, don’t you?"

"i love watching you sqirm," you correct, tipping his chin up with a perfectly manicured finger before sauntering inside the club without a backward glance.

rafe isn't used to losing control, but with you…he doesn’t stand a fucking chance. he learns quick that you're not like the other girls who bat their lashes and let him call the shots. you push back. you challenge. you take and take and take, and he loves it. you’re not afraid of his temper, of the sharpness in his voice when things don’t go his way.

if anything, it turns you on.

and that drive him fucking crazy.

when he fucks you, it’s all-consuming, a battle of dominance neither of you really want to win. your nails rake down his back, leaving red streaks in their wake. his hand tightens around your throat, just enough to make you gasp, make your lashes flutter. he doesn’t fuck soft. he fucks like he needs it, like he’s been starving for it, like you’re the only thing keeping him from unraveling completely.

"tell me who you belong to," he mutters against your skin, hand slipping between your thighs, fingers pressing into you just enough to tease.

"hmm," you hum, pretending to think. "i don't know, rafe. do you deserve to hear it?"

his smirk falters, grip tightening. "you're playing a dangerous game, baby."

"i always win," you whisper, dragging your nails down his chest before flipping the script, shoving him onto the bed. he lets out a sharp breath, watching you with dark, hungry eyes as you straddle his lap.

"fuck," he hisses as you grind against him, slow, teasing. "you’re gonna pay for that."

"good," you smirk, leaning down until your lips brush his ear. "make me."

he flips you before you can blink, but you’re faster. Before he can pin your hands, your legs wrap around his waist, twisting, flipping him onto his back. you straddle him again, nails trailing down his chest, smirking as his breath catches.

"what’s wrong, cameron? thought you were in charge?"

his hands grip your hips, hard enough to bruise, but you grind down against him, slow, deliberate, making him groan through clenched teeth. you lean forward, lips barely grazing his ear.

"you drive me so fucking insane," he growls, voice ragged.

you chuckle, dragging your tongue along the shell of his ear. "then lose your mind for me, cameron. if...you can keep up."

and he does. every single time.

he fucks you until you’re shaking, until his name spills from your lips without hesitation, without defiance, until you’re gasping, clawing at his back, needing more, more, more.

and in the aftermath, when you’re tangled in his sheets, bodies still buzzing with the aftershocks, he looks at you with something dangerous in his gaze. like he’s addicted. like he’s never letting you go.

"mine," he murmurs, tracing a possessive line down your spine.

you don’t argue. you just smirk, pressing a kiss to his jaw, already thinking of all the ways you’ll test him again tomorrow.

taglist: @namelesslosers @maybanksangel @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @rafesheaven @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @rafesangelita @rafedaddy01 @soldesole @bakugouswaif @skywalker0809 @vanessa-rafesgirl @evermorx89 @outerhills @ditzyzombiesblog @slavicangelmuah @alivinggirl @rafesgreasycurtainbangs @rafesbabygirlx @drewsephrry

[dippindaz]

Relationship HCs

Decided I wanted to go back to my roots and write some horror characters :) I hope you all enjoy <3

Warnings: Controlling/manipulative behaviors, toxic dynamics, mentions of death and violence (not major character, mentions of stalking,

Characters Included: Brahms, Thomas Hewitt, Danny "Jed" Olsen, Michael Myers, Billy Loomis, Stu Marcher.

Brahms Heelshire

Extremely clingy and possessive. Brahms doesn’t just want you around—he needs you. You’re his entire world, and he expects to be yours too.

Jealous of any attention you give others, even innocuous stuff like a friendly conversation with the delivery boy. He’ll sulk, break something, or go quiet behind the walls until you “apologize.”

Strict routines and rules—he expects you to read to him, cook for him, and follow his schedule. But over time, you realize he also follows a version of your schedule. He memorizes everything about your habits.

Childlike tendencies, especially emotionally. He doesn’t always know how to express feelings beyond tantrums or intense stares, but he genuinely adores you in the only way he knows how.

Brahms is touch-starved. He clings in his sleep, always wants to hold hands or sit close, and gets visibly upset when you pull away—even if it’s just for a second.

Homebody couple life. He doesn’t want you to leave the estate—ever. If he has to let you go somewhere, expect him to be freaking out the entire time you're gone and either be extra clingy when you get back or extra closed-off.

Thomas Hewitt

Incredibly protective. Once he considers you his, you’re under constant protection. Anyone who even looks at you the wrong way… doesn’t look at anything again.

Thomas expresses affection through his actions. He’s nonverbal, but he’ll bring you things he thinks you’ll like—bones, odd trinkets, handmade gifts—and looks to you for approval afterward.

He likes to be close, leans into you for comfort, and has a calming presence despite everything. Being held by him feels safe in a strange, primal way.

Listen, Thomas is really a big baby. If you cry or raise your voice, he panics and tries to fix it. Expect him to bring you comfort items, mimic your expressions to show empathy, or even get Mama to help. He hates when you're upset, whether with him or not.

Your life is domestic, in it's own weird way. You both settle into a routine that’s grotesque on the outside but oddly comforting once you adjust. He likes when you hum while you work.

Loyal to death. Once you’re his, he’ll never let go. Even the thought of losing you is enough to send him into a spiral of rage or grief.

Danny “Jed” Olsen

Flirty, chaotic, and intense. Danny is the kind of guy who flirts like it's a game but is dead serious about you underneath the teasing.

Danny loves making you squirm. He’ll joke about stalking you (and probably did before you got together. Let's be real, he probably still does), sends you cryptic texts from across the room, or whisper twisted things just to see your reaction.

Photos of you everywhere. Some are sweet, some are… definitely not. He documents your relationship obsessively—whether it’s a romantic moment or a vulnerable one.

He's got a dark sense of humor and hopefully you do too. He loves when you match his energy, but if you don’t, he’ll tone it down just enough to keep you from leaving—then push again when he’s feeling brave.

Hyper-focused on you. He watches your every move, knows your patterns, your tells, your fears. It’s equal parts seductive and terrifying how well he reads you.

Deep down, he hopes you’ll love not just the charming mask he puts on, but the messed-up parts too. If you do? You’ve got his loyalty for life—even if it’s a dangerous one.

Michael Myers

Utterly silent but always watching. You never really know where Michael is, but you always feel him—whether it’s a shadow behind the curtain or a shape across the street. He watches you constantly, but not always maliciously—sometimes just… fascinated.

Very protective. If anyone threatens you? They're gone. No warning. No trace. He doesn’t tolerate any danger near you—not even perceived danger.

Quality time is his love language (If you can even call it that). He doesn’t speak or do traditional affection, but he’ll leave you items (stolen or not), stand guard outside your house, or silently sit nearby when you're upset.

Emotionally unreadable—but not emotionless. Over time, you can tell when he’s calm, angry, or curious. It’s all in the tilt of his head, the speed of his breathing, the way he stands just a little closer.

Michael follows you like a shadow. Even when he’s not visible, he’s nearby. If you try to leave him, he will follow. He’s never going to let you go—but somehow, it feels more like devotion than captivity.

Physical comfort is rare but intense. When he finally touches you(outside of sexual touches)—gently brushing your hair back, letting his hand linger—it’s deliberate and heavy with meaning. He doesn't do anything halfway.

Billy Loomis

Hot-and-cold as fuck. One moment, he’s magnetic, whispering sweet nothings like you’re the only person in the world. The next? Cold, distant, suspicious. You’re always on your toes.

Emotionally manipulative, but not always on purpose. He knows how to make you feel guilty, even when you haven't done anything. Sometimes it's calculated. Sometimes it's just because he’s afraid you’ll leave.

Billy is secretive. He hides things constantly but loses his mind if you do. If you even look at someone else for too long, expect a quiet but tense confrontation later.

He craves your trust but doesn’t trust you. He wants you to love him unconditionally—but doesn't believe you actually could if you "knew everything." This makes him spiral, often.

He fantasizes about you being his ride-or-die, someone who won’t just accept the killer side of him, but maybe even join it. The idea of you being his ride-or-die is thrilling for him.

Weirdly romantic in the rare quiet moments. He’ll run his fingers through your hair, kiss your wrist, stare at you like he’s memorizing you. He means it. He just doesn’t know how to keep it.

Stu Macher

Clingy and codependent. Stu needs constant attention. He’s like a puppy crossed with a sociopath—needing affection one minute, giggling over murder the next.

Stu always has his hands on you, always exaggerating his emotions to get a reaction—whether that’s “fake dying” for kisses or pouting until you reassure him.

He will do literally anything to impress you. He’s impulsive and easily influenced, especially by Billy—but if you told him to ditch murder and just watch movies with you forever, he’d probably try.

Terrified of abandonment. He plays things off like a joke, but the thought of losing you breaks him. He’d cry, beg, or go completely unhinged trying to keep you.

Stu over-shares everything. He couldn't keep a secret from you even if he was trying. He’ll ramble about kills, about plans, about what he wants to do to people who “looked at you funny.” It’s weirdly honest—he has no filter with you.

Loves being called your boyfriend. Like, loves it. He’ll say it a dozen times a day and gets all smug if you say it in public. Being yours is his favorite identity.

[aemonds-gf]

dating Martin from modern world hcs

Author Note : I’m still so rusty at writing but Martin has definitely awaken something inside of me, I hope I did him justice. Feedback is appreciated and requests are open for him, Aemond and aegon.

Trigger Warnings : Martin might be ooc, no use of {y/n}, written with afab in mind, allusions to smut, pussy slapping, spanking, bondage, use of spreader bar.

Martin is fairly observant. He noticed some of the snacks you like to eat and started stocking up on them, he made a place for them in his pantry so when the both of you have a sleepover, you'll feel like you're at home.

Before Martin asked you out, he made a playlist of all of the songs that reminded him of you, out of the blue one night he sent you the playlist and you've been drawn to him since.

He takes you out for late-night dinner dates at his favorite rundown diner. Not many people dine there anymore; mostly, it's the older folks, but that makes it quiet. Every time, both of you order the same thing: blueberry pancakes with a side of oatmeal.

Martin doesn't start conversations much; he much prefers to sit back and paint while you tell him about the day you had at work or college or whatever you were doing that day. He relaxes this way.

When he is unable to sleep, he finds solace in taking walks under the moonlight at the park near his apartment. After spending a few months together, he invites you to join him one night. It was a balmy summer evening, with warm air and a peaceful atmosphere. As you walk together through the park, the moonlight lights your way, creating a soft glow around you. The gentle rustling of leaves and distant of the town sounds add to the tranquil ambiance.

Martin may not appear to be the type, but he is a hopeless romantic and, to add to that, he's touch-starved. Whenever you're together, he finds subtle ways to touch you, even if it's not obvious to those around you in public. For example, if you're reading, he might softly stroke your thigh, or when you both decide to watch a movie, Martin will lay his head in your lap.

Martin is accustomed to receiving strange looks; he knows he's the outcast. As a metalhead with even more exotic pets, he embraces his uniqueness. This doesn’t bother him—he doesn’t feel a need to fit in with everyone else. However, he doesn’t want you to endure the same treatment he does. He would do anything you wanted or needed. Want to wear that outfit? Go for it; he can fight. Want to dye your hair? Go ahead, he’ll stand by you and protect you from everything.

Martin will get you anything you want, he's down for anything. Tickets to your favorite concerts, or maybe a fair you'd like to go to. Never worry because he'll always try to be there for you.

We can all agree that Martin is a freak in the sheets, #1 number one pussy eating champ™. Martin loves to eat you out, he'll have you sit on his face, the edge of his bed, or the bathroom sink. Just anywhere.

He loves bondage, loves to make intricate patterns with you. Loves different color ribbons, rope. Speaking of bondage, he loves to use his spreader bar. Martin had surprised you with it one night, after a long day of work. You felt a bit nervous about the contraption, but Martin, being the loving boyfriend he is, reassured you that if you didn't want to, you didn't have to.

Definitely has a praise kink, he loves to be told that's he doing a good job. He praises you a lot too, his favorite phrases are "his favorite girl, his good-girl, and his favorite cumslut."

Wax play is a must for him, Martin enjoys to mixing the wax. He loves to make you his muse, and your body becomes his canvas. Blue candles are a favorite of his.

Brat taming, he's quite good at it. He likes to feel like he's in control, and will spank you as punishment.

Size kink, need I say anymore

Postion wise, he's simple taste. He enjoys missionary and reverse cowgirl. If you wanted to do something spicer he's down, to try everything once.

It's easy to turn Martin on, wear his band shirt with your just your panties underneath. Listen to his reptile facts, he'll meet you in the bedroom.

[janitorhutcherson]

i'm totally NOT touch starved so IM TOTALLY NOT asking for peeta mellark and touch starved reader... totally NOT. (i love your writing sm ☺️)

i am FINALLY giving the people what they want!! i know this isn't a whole fic/imagine but instead headcanons, BUT! it is finally peeta. i promise there will be more peeta content in the future. im working my way through the movies again and im about to reread the books, i want to be accurate about his portrayal so y'all feel like its more realistic, but here is a lil taste of what is to come! i rly hope you enjoy <3 btw!! this takes place after EVERYTHING in the books. ur basically katiness.

• Peeta is a huge softy, he's cuddly, loving, affectionate, and definitely touch starved himself. He's the type of guy to mostly have his own contact with you in some way. Sometimes he will grip onto your arm, he'll have his arm around your shoulder or your waist, or even just grip onto your shirt. When you're sitting on the couch, he opts to sit hip to hip even when the entirety of the couch is empty. When you're not cuddling in bed, you're facing opposite sides, sleeping butt-to-butt. Even with that being said, sometimes Peeta needed some space, his own bubble. You, however, did not love that.

• This is exactly why it was somewhat difficult for Peeta to understand touchstarved!reader. Regardless of how close you were, you needed more. Anytime you're walking in the district, rather it's to pick up some ingredients for the bakery or simply a leisurely walk, if he opted not to hold on to you in some way, you'd freak a little. You'd grip onto his hand, either squeezing it in yours or holding onto his larger fingers.

• Whenever dishes were being done or chores were tended to, you would wrap your arms around his waist from behind or follow him at the heel. You were desperate for his attention, his affection, his touch. Without it, you felt cold and disconnected. His touch pleased the ache that prickled against your skin from years of desperately wanting to be held.

• At night, you'd squeeze up under his arm. Your head would be tucked into his armpit, your arms wrapped around him as you tugged him close, closing your eyes and taking in his smell. When you'd fall asleep facing away from each other, Peeta wouldn't even notice you flip over to face him once he was fast asleep, curling up against him, squeezing him tightly like your life depended on it.

• In all honesty? It felt like your life did depend on it. You were a tribute alongside with Peeta, you'd both been through hell and back together. You had nightmares and he was the only one that could ground them. Part of your touch starved desperation came from the times you were alone, afraid, for yourself, for your lover. It was difficult.

• A lot of nights Peeta would ensure he'd hold you close, all too aware that he was the cure to your nightly insanity. This made you feel better, softer, warmer. On days when you were simply cuddling in bed together, you felt like you couldn't get enough. Your legs would be tangled with his, your foreheads touching, arms wrapped around one another. But nothing felt good enough. In instances like these, you would climb into his shirt, sticking your head through the hole for his own head, one that was stretched out from the many times you'd done this, one he specifically designated as his lounge shirt for this reason. Other times you would both strip your clothes off, cuddling skin to skin while Peeta would stroke your hair, pressing soft kisses to your forehead.

• All in all, Peeta is a gentle and caring lover, understanding of your needs. He'd do his best to meet them, even when it meant staying glued to your hip. He loved you, the history you two had, the stuff you'd been through, and he'd do anything to ensure your happiness and your safety. After all, you were who saved him, who kept him grounded as well, the love of his life... but, his thoughts are for another story.

[iloveboysinred]

just read ur keith nsfw hc😩😩I ILOVED THEM SO MUCH N UR WRITING IS AMAZINNNGGG,, i was wondering if u could write some more keith nsfw, whatever comes to your mind💗💗

First of all sorry anon bub i had to touch grass and breathe outside air before i wrote this bc i havent written for Keith in a miiinute (sorry voltron feens, i been starving yall right along with the Zuko Stans 💔) but lets get right into it cause i woke up wanting to get active!

Afab! Reader here.

- so since you read my other hcs you already know i think Keith is a FREAK. And let me elaborate!

- dont let his emo lone wolf persona throw you off, cause once he gets through that beginning shy faze hes on your boddyyyyy

- backshot warrior. He likes to be at your ear at all times with his nasty, dirty mouth.

- so while he’s giving you backshots he’ll lean down, whispering nasty praise into your ear, or if its angry sex he’s teasing you about your moans and laying claim to you by leaving marks on you where he can reach you.

- “you’re gasping, your hands gripping the pillows to try and stabilize yourself from the rough back and fourth of Keith’s thrusts and his hands on your hips pulling you back onto his dick. You feel him lean down on you, his chest pressing up against your back. “So tight” he whispers, rotating his hips in tight, agonizingly deep circles. “This pussy’s so good. You’re so good f’me baby” he grunts, bringing himself down to nip and lick at your earlobe, his tongue hot against your skin.”

- he really likes to fuck in front of a mirror, especially if he’s feeling some type of way and wants you to watch as he fucks you open or he wants you to see your face when you cum all over his dick. Bonus points if he’s angry or jealous.

- “eyes on the mirror.” You could tell Keith’s patience was wearing thin, his voice curt as he grabs your chin, turning you back to look at the full body mirror in his room. He started up his pace again with mean thrusts rocking the headboard and filling the room with loud squelches as your poor pussy quivered and drooled around his girth. He had a tight grip on your hair, holding your head up and in place to watch as he fucked you within an inch of your life. “I’m the only one that can fuck you like this.” And he sounds so self assured, your tight walls clenching around him at his words and proving his words true. “Fuckin pussy was made just for me.”

- and dont get me wrong! Keith is a sap too. I genuinely feel like most of the time he’s the sentimental sex type. Like i’ll speak on Keith being a freak ass all day but i genuinely believe most of the time you both have soft, loving sex until yall get booted to space and all the crazy shit starts happening and he just has to take that stress out in other ways besides training.

-Like when you came to him about how you miss home and how you miss just being with him before this whole galaxy space war crazyness began, he comforted you, reassuring you that the two of you being together was as close to home as ya’ll could get. That night, he held your hands in his, fingers interlaced as he made love to you. He held your gaze in his, whispering sweet words and little nothings to you while he rocked his hips into you, slow and deep.

- quickie obsessed. Like i said in the hcs when he wants you he’ll have you. He’s lucky you’re just as down as him because the way this man will just drag you into whatever mildly secluded area and just either swallow your tongue and feel you up or straight up just try and bend you over is crazy. It only takes a misplaced touch or a sultry look and he smirking at you, nothing but ill intent in his eyes as he drags you away. And its even crazier that he has the audacity to act embarrassed if you ever get caught

- I feel like he genuinely likes when you’re a little rough back. Grab his hair, choke him, bruise him up a little and he’s loving it. Has literal hearts in his eyes when you take control and treat him so meanly. When you did it he was shocked the first time, but he definitely finds himself liking it, taking your dominance as a challenge to see who can crumble first.

-loves loves lovessss when you moan his name when he’s fucking you stupid. Its cute how you cant get a coherent word out, everything you say fading into mumbles and gasps.

- pussy EATER. He’s not a pro by any means but once you show him how you like it he does it just to see you squirm and rock into his face. He gets pussy drunk easily, and his eyes bore into yours every time as if he’s holding you down with his gaze.

Thats all i got anon bub. Thank you for your ask💟 AND THANK YOU FOR ENJOYING MY WORK I LOVE YOU

[redr0sewrites]

Loki x reader General Hcs

this was... spontaneous! but i said i'd write for marvel and theres no better time than the present. PLEASE send in marvel requests🙏

🥀Cw: fluff, smut, switch!loki, little teensy bit of angst if u squint

🥀minors dni with the nsfw portion

sfw:

loki is a naturally guarded person, and is very intelligent and clever. he's not one to let his guard down easily and isn't used to dealing with true romantic feelings, so you are obviously very special to him

loki is incredibly intelligent and good at reading people, along with being very charismatic. he's used to charming people to get his way, and he very, very rarely shows his true feelings unless he trusts you. he cares a lot about your opinion, and a part of him really, really wants to please you

at first, it's hard for even loki to tell whether his feelings for you are genuine, and he gets completely tongue tied around you. he wants to be around you all the time, and he admires you a lot

when it comes to actually dating loki, please be patient!!! he will only truly begin to let his guard down around you over time, and he believes that you'll only find him irritating. he definitely has a big "hurt them and push them away before they hurt you", type of mentality, and when he first realizes how much he cares for you he will probably avoid you for a little

everyone knows loki loves attention, and that is no different in a relationship. he is both touch starved and touch disgusted as he doesn't want to appear vulnerable, but craves any sort of intimacy that you offer

very thoughtful, and he remembers every little detail about you. you mention how much you like a certain candy? you miraculously find those candies in your room. you tell him about an important event coming up that you're stressing about? he reminds you about it the day before. you tell him your favorite gemstone? well, you better believe that every piece of jewelry he gives you includes that gem. loki knows your favorite song, your favorite book, your favorite movie, and any and everything else about you that he deems important. you live rent free in his mind 24/7

loki loves matching with you, and he loves when you wear his signature colors. he's always complimenting you and your style, and his heart flutters a little when you ask him what he's wearing for an important event coming up so that you two can coordinate

i don't even think i can pick a love language for him, he loves giving and receiving any form of affection and you two are probably attached at the hip

HE WOULD PASS THE ORANGE PEEL TEST. loki is absolutely the type to lace up your shoes for you, making a corny joke about how he "doesn't want you falling for anyone else". he uses magic to help you a lot, and especially loves your guys' night routines

loki is nooot a morning person, and loves snuggling with you. whenever you both have to get up in the morning he's always pulling you back into bed, nuzzling into your neck and begging for "five more minutes". he's also always very groggy in the morning and won't remember most of what he does when half asleep. he's very honest as well, and says lots of sappy things whenever he's sleepy. on the rare occasion that you sleep in later than him, he loves kissing you awake and pressing kisses all over your fave!

loki naturally runs very cold, but doesn't feel cold if that makes sense. to you his skin is absolutely FREEZING, but he just feels normal. however there are times where he runs insanely hot and there is absolutely no in between. he's either freezing or burning up, and it's both a little sad and a little amusing. there are times where the cold gets to him and loki will be more clingy than usual, claiming that he needs you to warm him up. other times he will practically walk around naked, too overstimulated and hot to even touch you

loki is a lot more anxious then he seems, and will sometimes just freak out over little things when in reality its a bunch of big things piling up one after another. he never ever means to take it out on you, and even when he's reached his limit he would never hurt you, but it can still be frustrating when he gets mad at you for a simple mistake. he always apologizes and takes accountability tho, and is very careful not to hurt your feelings bc he's very afraid you'll leave him. PLEAAASEEE REASSURE HIM :((((

loki is very chatty and loves talking to you about anything and everything. from in depth psychological conversations to simple "how was your day" conversations, he just cherishes getting to be able to talk to you

nsfw

look me in the eyes and tell me he's not a switch. i definitely see him as being capable of both being a dom and a sub, and i think it really depends on your guys' moods

when he's a dom, i think loki can fluctuate on how mean or rough he is. i do see him being a more degrading or rough dom but i also think he can be a lot softer as well, and more of a pleasure dom. again, i think it all comes down to your preferences

when he's a sub, loki is definitely bratty. he loves being put in his place and getting a little roughed up, but there are also times where he just wants to relax and be taken care of. when he gets in his own head too much and is irritated after a long day he'll be a lot more pliant and willing to just let you take care of him. PLEEEASSSE praise him and pamper him when he's like this, he'll melt like putty in your hands

PRAISE + DEGRADATION!!! BOTH WAYS!!!! he absolutely has a huge praise kink and definitely praises you a looot during sex, but i also see him being a bit mean with his praise and mixing in some degrading words as well. either way he's a wonderful dirty talker and he probably has a voice kink too, considering how often he whispers in your ear (and enjoys it when you do the same).

i also think loki would be into bondage, again, both ways. theres something so delicious about seeing you tied up and squirming from just his gentle touches, but it's equally intoxicating for him to be the one tied up and denied any sort of pleasure. he gets really whiny when you don't let him touch you, and will probably start pouting and begging. tying him up is defff one of the easiest ways to break him

guys hear me out but a candle wax kink. loki is very respectful and will always ask your permission before trying something new, but he loves seeing you whimper and moan while he slowly lets a few drops of wax spill onto your smooth skin. he also will let you return the favor, and the wax often hisses and steams a bit when it hits his skin because he's so cold.

marking you is definitely very appealing to him, and it's pretty self explanatory. loki just loves marking you and being marked up by you. it satisfies his slightly possessive and jealous side, and you two always look like you've been in a fight after having sex from the number of bruises, scratches, and hickies littering your body.

another relatively self explanatory kink, but, hair pulling. he looooves it when you pull his hair while he gives you head

loki is a major tease, and he loves teasing you in public settings where you can't do much about it. it will go from subtle things like placing a hand on your lower back or caressing your thigh to whispering absolute filth in your ears and making out with you in the bathroom. he is always trying to rile you up bc he knows damn well that it will lead to a night of rough sex

we all know loki's a shapeshifter and genderfluid, so i absolutely hc that he can change his physical body to match his gender. if he's feeling more feminine, he LOVES when uou eat him out. facesitting is def something he enjoys and he loooves riding your face SOO MUCH.

loki is very vocal, he def whines and moans a lot. he isn't shy about letting you know how good he's feeling. he knows how much his voice affects you and will whisper the filthiest things in your ear between moans as you fuck him senseless

aftercare is v important to him, and whether or not he's subbing really affects how exhausted he is afterwards. if he dommed he knows he can be pretty rough and he'll run a bath for you both before getting a towel to wipe you clean and then carrying you to the tub. i also think he'd prioritize keeping you well hydrated and would get you some water and food after the bath. loki is very clingy after sex and would want you as close as possible.

when he subbed tho, it's a totally different story. loki will be a clingy mess from the moment you finish, just whining and cuddling against you the whole time. depending on how deep into subspace he is and how groggy he is, he might even cry if you try to get up (even if you're just going to get water or a towel or sum) bc he thinks you're leaving him :(. he's pretty vulnerable after subbing and will probably just lay with you for a while before coming down from his high. once he's mostly calm and cognizant, he'll def want to clean up pretty quickly. he doesn't like feeling sticky and gross and also loves bathing with you!! overall he's a lot softer after sex and generally just wants to be near to you

RAHHHH I LOVE HIM SMMM!!!! he's so silly lmao this post got sooo long 💀 i also lowkey feel like im shadowbanned or something cuz like all of my posts have been majorly flopping recently :/ maybe im just not in a lot of active fandoms idk but!!!! anyways!!!!! hope u enjoyed!!!!!!! PLEEEASE FEEL FREE TO SEND IN REQUESTS FOR MARVEL, ATSV, OR ANH OTHER FANDOM I WRITE FOR!!!

[patrickispinky]

Headcanons

Rhonda Rosen x Reader

Warnings: One "innuendo" (the word frisky)

(I broke under the pressure of Bi panic. She needs more love)

-

Rhonda will never admit it but she loves to be serenaded. Gentle kisses and sweet whispers of love in private. 

She’s touched starved, badly. If you touch her around others she’ll smack your hand away and give you a death glare, but when it’s just the two of you she wants to be held like a baby. It took a while to get to this point, promising her its okay and that you’re not gonna make fun of her. 

Little dates where you would draw her in charcoal. (She seems so drawable for some reason) “Yeah, it looks nice i guess.” Is the biggest compliment on your art that you’re gonna get. On the inside shes freaking out because out of everything you could draw you chose her. 

Rhonda’s secretly a hopeless romantic. She’s read every cheesy rom-com book she could get her hands on. Speaking of hands, she won’t let you hold hers. Says it's childish but will let you interlock pinkies with her when no ones looking. 

Secret makeout sessions in the teachers lounge when its empty. Won’t let it escalate beyond kissing, that's for special occasions when shes feeling frisky. 

Never, and I mean NEVER steal her hat. She will freak out, it’s what ties her look together. 

Write her little poems and leave them for her, just never read them out loud or let her read them in front of you. If she happens to ‘accidentally’ stumble across one of them you wrote for her she’ll read it, keep it, and never mention it to you. Secretly she learns every word to it and holds it close to her heart. 

Her version of ‘i love you’ is ‘fuck you’. She says it with such grace. 

Baby’s got trust issues and has a hard time leaning on people because the one time she did it landed her a first class ticket to death so it’s gonna take a lot for her to be able to show her soft side. She will never be the type to use sweet pet names or go for romantic late night walks but eventually she’ll open up. Her hearts a very delicate thing so feel honored that she gave it to you no matter how reluctant she was.