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#it's one thing if it's friends giving space to deal with it all
bunnwich · 2 days
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It's Supposed to Be Fun
(a letter to my friends in the twst fandom)
I've been wanting to make this post for a while and these thoughts may seem scattered but I’m gonna try to express them. 
Lately, I have seen many friends and moots that either are leaving the fandom or feel guilty over not having posted in a while or losing interest in twst. On the other side, I also have friends being harassed.
This a reminder to remember why you joined this community to begin with. I know that keeping up with the fast-moving pace of fandom and comparing ourselves to others, can skew our perspective on these things.
It’s supposed to be fun. 
Why do we post art or write? Sure, partly for recognition, there's no denying that. But, why do we create, I mean really? For enjoyment. Not for others, not to be “popular” FOR JOY.
So, whether you’re dealing with people critiquing you or feeling guilty about not creating. My question is this: Why waste so much of your time on something that makes you miserable?
Did it stop being fun? Why? Haters? Loss of interest?
To my friends who feel guilty for not creating and not sure if they lost interest in twst: 
Don’t feel guilty. At one time, the creation of your twst content was natural. It's what you did for fun with friends or for yourself. Revisit that mindset and think - if creating twst content now will bring that same joy it did before.
If the answer is no, then maybe it’s time to pivot. It’s okay for interests to fade. It doesn’t mean that time, memories, or the friends you made are lost. Connect with your friends, we will understand! We still love you! It's not a race there's no time limit, just pick up were you want to. Draw fanart of old events or OCs.
To my friends who have been harassed: 
I say this with sincerity…. People who harass others over fictional characters are fucking losers.
Like… There’s no other eloquent way to encapsulate it. I’m starting to not care for the reason anymore - If you harass or be shady to others over a ship or fictional character. CONGRATS! YOU ARE A LOSER.
We all join fandoms as a hobby, for fun. We’re all just kids in the sandbox playing pretend again… and if you are the type of person to go up just to “kick the doll out of someone’s hand" or make commentary on how “their way of playing is wrong." You’re a loser. I have a life outside of twst, we all do. Someone saying my ship is wrong or cringe is just so laughable to me. We have to make fun of these people more for being so goddamn lame.
Imagine being so unhappy that when you see someone having fun you HAVE to comment on it. By all means, if it gets you through the day...talk shit to close friends or even post about it on your own blog. (THAT WAS ALWAYS ALLOWED.) Don't bother creators directly. Don't be a loser. I sure see tolerance leave people’s bodies when they see a fandom opinion they don't like. (And this is coming from someone who has lots of opinions on these things! But that's why I always put the disclaimers that, hey this is just MY opinion.)
Discussion is one thing, unhelpful comments are another. We shouldn’t give these people the time of day. Curate your online space. Yes, when you post things online you are subjecting yourself to scrutiny. But, we as creators need to stop letting these people have power over us. Period. We do this for free!! FOR FUN. The best thing you can do is create shamelessly.
Delete weird replies, block whoever you need to do to rid yourself of these people who have nothing better to do. Keep your peace. It’s supposed to be for fun. You don’t owe anyone a response.
The twst fandom is like a little family to me and I guess I feel protective over the people in it?  I have made many friends and memories because I joined it. And even dispite a handful of the negative experiences (AKA: A couple of “losers" that I’ve had to deal with.) I’ll always look fondly back on this time.
The key for me has always been to just…create for myself. I originally made bunnwich for me and one friend to make fun little arts about our Yuu’s and now I get to have lots of friends to share it with! I’ve transitioned from an OC blog to probably more of an Oc x Canon blog…but I don’t care tbh. I just…draw what I feel like. I know there are people who probably dislike me for that or feel strange about my content and that’s fine. I’m still gonna keep drawing it, loser.  
And I just want you guys to do the same, twst or not.
I can’t forget that all my followers and friends are a bonus, if I had never joined tumblr I’d still be drawing the silly shit I draw in peace. And while yes, I do want to grow as an artist and sell more merch and keep growing... I can’t forget my initial excitement for this silly little game. I like to talk about it. I like to write about it. It inspires me.
It’s supposed to be fun. Please remember that. I know it can be discouraging to have others being shitty to you. Or going through a creative drought. But, try not to let this stop you from creating what you love.
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foolishlovers · 15 hours
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hi <3 soooo I was wondering if you have fic recs with historical setting? Like in canon through the ages or human historical fics?
yes of course 💜 here are some i enjoyed:
A half-penny will do by penny_archer (G, 2k) It’s Christmas in Victorian England and Crowley is trying not-very-hard to hide the fact that he’s been giving pickpocketing lessons to the disenfranchised youth of London. Oh, and he has a cute gift for Aziraphale that’s totally not a big deal.
Fighting Dirty by curtaincall (M, 9k) Aziraphale knows exactly what’s happening: Hell has sent up a devilishly attractive demon to tempt him into sinning against God. So he’ll act like he’s falling for it, pretend he doesn’t know just what Crowley’s doing. And he certainly won’t give in. Crowley knows exactly what’s happening: Heaven has sent down a divinely beautiful angel to dazzle him into revealing Hell’s plans. So he’ll act like he’s falling for it, pretend he doesn’t know just what Aziraphale’s doing. And he certainly won’t give in. (Or: an angel and a demon spend 6000 years each convinced the other one is a honey trap)
from autumn blooms spring summer fruit by blackeyedblonde (E, 9k) In the potter’s shed, Crowley picked up a trowel and threatened a yearling lemon tree still residing within its earthenware pot before he would allow himself to sit at the gardening table and pull the folded newspaper Aziraphale had given him from his smock. Enclosed on the inside were two gifts. One was the small velvet pouch that contained a pair of golden earrings strung with twin baroque pearls that did not squeak when he curiously rubbed one against his canine tooth. The other was the familiar sight of neat copperplate writing at the bottom of page seven of the paper, done in lead pencil so the words could be more easily smudged out with a bit of rubber. A gift, Lord Fell had written. I will come find you an hour after the molting brown bird has gone to bed.
An Arrangement of Convenience by Blue_Sparkle (E, 13k) Aziraphale works to purchase a bookshop space, but currently being a woman-shaped creature has its drawbacks when faced with rude property owners. The most obvious solution is to get Crowley to act as his husband and deal with all that nonsense, of course.
The road to rapture has a lot of pit stops by emmagrant01 (E, 17k) Five times they kissed over four thousand years, and one time they actually meant it.
Time Flies (When You're Having Fun) by Mussimm (E, 23k) Versailles, 1769 - Aziraphale has a blessing to perform at a masquerade ball and it's important that he gets this one right. So important, in fact, that he can't seem to leave until he does. But with a fancy dress, an attentive demon and an endless supply of champagne, it's a little challenging to stay on mission.
An Ineffable Midsummer Night's Dream by Sabotaged_Words (T, 25k) London, 1605. Aziraphale urgently needs Crowley's help. The premiere of William Shakespeare's latest work is in danger! The only way to save the play is for Crowley to take on the role of Puck - and that will take a lot of convincing. Come explore some more of Azriaphale's and Crowley's life in the Elisabethean era, where the ineffable idiots are little theatre nerds, have to deal with unwanted advances, and suddenly face the question if they, in fact, could be even friends?
Flowers From The Grave Of Our Friendship by WaitingToBeBroken (E, 50k) Crowley is very good at temptation, not so good with what comes afterwards. Aziraphale knows demons don't love so he is happy to take anything Crowley would give him. Both of them are too blind to realize the thing they want is right in front of them.
More Than by NaroMoreau (E, 55k) Crowley would like to spend another year without marrying, especially when thrust-forced to pick a husband. She refuses to cave in on a matter of principles. She refuses to cave in specifically on a matter of not wanting to be married to Lucien Morningstar. But she might need a hand to break free from such a burden. And who knows? She might even find something else along the way.
Against Expectations by Blue_Sparkle, summerofspock (E, 69k) After being pressured by their families into a marriage neither of them want, Aziraphale and Crowley resign themselves to an unfulfilling life together. For Aziraphale that means trying to be the dutiful wife she was always taught to be and for Crowley it means hiding an important part of who he is.
On Espionage and Prophecy (or How to Accidentally, but Wholly, Fall in Love With a Soho Bookseller) by RockSaltAndRoll (E, 133k) 1941 is the London Blitz and the year that MI5 really comes into its own with the now infamous ‘double cross’ system. The service keep tabs on suspects, root out enemy agents and try to turn them into doubles. Anthony J Crowley is fucking great at this job. He can be sneaky, underhanded and damn ruthless but also charming and kind. It’s what makes him good at turning. Aziraphale is just a regular Soho bookseller who loves his shop and books and good food and wine when he’s approached by a woman claiming to be MI5, wanting to recruit him for espionage. The poor man is too trusting and gets the shock of his life when he’s approached by a charming but dangerous-looking man also claiming to be MI5. Crowley recruits Aziraphale to double cross a double crosser and Aziraphale takes to espionage like a duck to water. Danger, hijinks, and sex ensue.
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towel - @bartylusmicrofic - words: 567
For years, Regulus just doesn’t get it. Who is dating whom. Who is in love (read: infatuated) with whom. Who may have shagged whom. It is all so thoroughly uninteresting to him. It’s juvenile, really. It’s uncivilised. Uncultured. Animalistic. It is so very thoroughly beneath him that he may as well be in space or on another planet.
But then, while he is in the prefects’ bathroom, Barty walks in. And Regulus just gets it. 
His first question should have been, ‘What is Barty doing in the prefects’ bathroom?’ because Barty is so far from a prefect that it really is quite ludicrous. 
That’s not Regulus’s first question, though. His first question, posed to himself because he’d rather die than admit it to another living being, is, ‘When did Barty get so fit?’
Because Barty is wearing a towel, and Regulus is sure that’s literally all Barty is wearing. It’s not that he has never seen Barty in a towel before. Barty is actually known to wander around their dormitory in his underwear. Sometimes in significantly less than his underwear. He is really very shameless like that; shameless and comfortable in his own body. 
Regulus has seen it all.
But, Regulus now realises, he really hadn’t seen it all. He doesn’t know why he’s been so blind, or what it was or who it was that lifted the veil from his eyes. Regulus doesn’t know what’s different; maybe nothing is different. But his heart is racing, he’s sweating, he is so warm he feels flushed all over and his stomach is doing tumbles and backflips and he’s suddenly overtaken by the urge to just flee. 
Barty wanders past, dripping wet, his hair ruffled and sticking up. He’s saying something that is passing straight through Regulus’s brain like Regulus has gone entirely deaf. And now…well, now Regulus gets it.
Oh boy, does Regulus ‘get it’. He could not ‘get it’ anymore than he currently does.
In fact, he wants to give ‘it’ to someone else. Make ‘it’ their problem. 
Because this is wrong. This is so very wrong. Barty is his best friend. Barty is his person. Barty is family. Barty is the boy he conspires with, the one he confides in, the one who knows his inner truths, the one he will go to the ends of the Earth with and do unspeakable things for. Barty is the boy who climbs into his bed for hugs and cuddles and comfort because he gets sad and lonely at night when he can’t sleep and everyone else is out like a light. 
And how is Regulus going to give him hugs and cuddles and comfort when Regulus is having thoughts he shouldn’t have and Regulus’s body is doing things he doesn’t want it to do?
Barty is going to know, and Barty is going to feel it, and then where will they be?
They’ll be so far deep in discomfort and rejection that they’ll both drown in it. And Regulus will find that his best friend, his person, his family, his conspirator, his confidant has abandoned him. And he can’t—he just can’t—deal with that. It would kill him dead.
Regulus swallows past the shards of anxiety lodged in his throat, terrified that Barty is going to take that towel off and they’ll both end up in a world of problems. As Barty chatters mindlessly about this or that, here or there, Regulus quickly gathers his towel and clothes and flees.
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"being so stressed cannot be good for your health" correct!!! holy fuck. would love some help navigating the path towards being Less Stressed because i too agree my state of being and migraine frequency would improve. unfortunately getting out of stressful situations is sometimes exponentially stressful, otherwise this would be easy
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steviescrystals · 1 month
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guys things are happening
#so i met this girl at work last summer and we clicked right away and we were super close for a while#and it was really only a few months but i considered her one of my best friends#and then both of us got promoted to basically shift leads and right after that things just got really weird between us#i never figured out what exactly happened but it was just like tense and off which sucked bc the time before that was so much fun#but i just pushed it aside bc i still wanted to be friends with her and i was hoping it would just pass i gués#and THEN a couple months later she got promoted to store manager which was… shocking#i want to make it super clear i did not want to be manager and i truly was not jealous of her job#but i just did not think she was the right choice for manager bc after working super closely with her for months#i had seen her do sooo much shit that was either not allowed or just like not correct and straight up kinda dumb??#but none of the higher ups knew about it bc i would always help her fix her mistakes bc she was my friend and i wanted things done right yk#so anyway she became manager and our friendship just got even weirder bc suddenly she was my boss and i did not think she was a good manager#as much as i still loved her as a person she just got on my nerves a lot at work bc of the way she was running things#THEN a month after that annual company wide layoffs happened and i got laid off 😍 which i have vented a ton about on here bc it was awful#and the one bright side to it was that i thought maybe our friendship could start to go back to normal now that we didn’t work together#but instead she pretty much stopped talking to me completely aside from sending me a tiktok occasionally#so i was like okay this sucks but oh well i’ve got my own shit to deal with now that i’ve gotten laid off so i’ll just give her space#and tbh i was just hoping a band we both like would go on tour soon or something so i’d have a good opportunity to ask her to hang out again#BUT THEN she texted me a few minutes ago and turns out she just got fired???#which does not happen often at that job btw there’s very low turnover i think only like 2 people got fired the whole time i worked there#usually layoffs are the only time people end up leaving#and it’s weird bc i spent all that time thinking it was a bad choice for them to make her manager and she wasn’t doing a good job#but i’m still somehow surprised???#and i feel so guilty bc i talked so much shit about the whole thing with one of my other friends bc her management pissed me off so bad#and it’s not like me talking about it with someone who didn’t even work there caused her to get fired but i still feel so bad#like yeah i do think she shouldn’t have been manager in the first place but i would never wish that on someone yk#so idk i’m just like in a very weird headspace rn!!#vent#lj.txt
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espinosaurusrexex · 3 months
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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
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"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 already know your girl couldn't decide which GIF to use. So here are the extra ones:
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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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also tagging my steve tags (for everyone who wanted an update on Bambi) 🤗 :
4K notes · View notes
foldingfittedsheets · 11 months
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So one thing I’ve noticed is that people’s DnD characters may vary but there is usually an underlying thread that they all have in common. This thread is typically related to what that person struggles with the most.
For instance, my betrotheds DnD characters: a bitchy warlock we had to bust out of two different pacts, a sassy barbarian, a reformed drow cultist, and a sunshine fighter cleric.
All these characters were wildly different but at their very core struggle was them grappling with their self worth. My betrothed struggles with their worth a great deal and even with different facets showing their characters all have that too.
Mine all tend to contend with different themes of loneliness and acceptance. Surprise, surprise, the little autistic gremlin yearns to have been met with more love and lasting friendships.
So we’re at breakfast. I am meeting a new friend of my betrotheds for the first time. It’s been twenty minutes since I’ve met this man. I say my theory. He laughs. He starts to describe a few of his characters but specifies that he often has healing aspects. He gives a very broad overview of their character arcs.
I ponder for a moment then said, “Would you like to have my assessment?”
He laughed, “Sure!”
“We’ve just met. It’s gonna get real.”
“Bring it on.”
“I think your struggle is that you feel you must offer something of value or service to people to be worthy of their love.”
His jaw dropped. His fork froze midway to his mouth. A potato fell. He stared into space as this sank in. Quietly he said, “Oh.”
10K notes · View notes
bloodyhoon · 1 month
Text
7 minutes in heaven.
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pairing: fuck boy! sim jake x female! reader.
genre: smut.
warnings: virgin reader, fuck boy jake is actually a gentleman, kissing, fingering, insecurity, mentions of crying, slight corruption kink. english is not my first language so there may be grammal or spelling errors.
words: 3.8K
note: i didn't plan for this to be so long wtf
part 2.
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The not-so-little get-together at your best friend's house had become interesting when someone suggested playing 7 minutes in heaven. Everything was calm, several couples had entered and left the small closet, some only came out laughing after the exact 7 minutes that had to pass and others came out somewhat disheveled and with their clothes out of place after more than 7 minutes locked up, clearly showing what they had done and earning shouts and whistles from those outside waiting. Your world came crashing down when the bottle spun and pointed at you on one side and Sim Jaeyun on the other, the hot best friend of the guy your best friend was fooling around with. You all knew that he was a fuck boy, very experienced when it came to girls and casual encounters, every girl who had passed through his bed would speak highly of the boy.
And then there was you, one day everyone just started believing that you were some kind of fuck girl because of a stupid rumor that started spreading at school, but that created a certain reputation for you that you liked so you didn't try to deny it and things simply got out of hand and suddenly everyone said they had sex with you. You personally were not bothered by those rumors because you and your close friends knew perfectly everything about you. And the reality was different, you were a simple virgin terrified of the idea of ​​being intimate with some idiot like the ones your best friend always talked to you about.
"Nice!" the voice of one of the girls in the group sounded over the laughter. "Jaeyun and Y/n, who would have thought? But I don't think it's their first time-"
"Actually it is, but I don't deny having waited for this moment" Jaeyun's voice was a little mocking. You looked up from the bottle in the center of the floor and met his smirk. You fought hard with yourself not to act flustered and blush at the attractive boy. After all, you had a reputation to uphold.
"Well, this game is already boring" Yena spoke with a fake yawn. She of course knew your true personality and your shyness, and she knew that you wouldn't dare be confined in such a small space with the boy. She also didn't want anyone to pressure you into it, so she knew she had to intervene. "Let's better play-"
"Come on, don't ruin the mood like that" the previous girl's voice sounded again. "They also seem very enthusiastic."
"I'm more than ready." Jaeyun leaned back leaning on his hands, waiting for you to deign to speak to him. When you looked at him again, he had one of his eyebrows slightly raised waiting for an answer from you. "Unless she backs down. Are you scared, Y/n?" Silence reigned in the place and everyone turned their heads quickly towards you, waiting for one of your strong sarcastic responses.
"Scared of what? I don't think you have much there that I have to deal with" you looked away, mainly so he wouldn't notice the nervousness in your eyes.
"Do you want to find out?" His tone of voice was provocative, forcing you to return his gaze. Everyone was waiting for your answer and you couldn't give them anything other than what they expected.
"Should I?" you smiled slightly at him. The other teenagers who were already quite drunk made some noises and provocative comments. Jaeyun stood up from his place with a sideways smile on his face and relaxedly putting his hands in his pockets, he pointed at the closet with his head. You sighed and stood up, but the arm of your best friend next to you stopped you, almost making you fall.
“What the hell are you doing, Y/n?” his panicked voice whispered to you, rising above the noises of the crowd. “Are you sure what you're about to do?”
"Damn it, no" you denied several times, closing your eyes. "What did you want me to do? I'd look like a coward-"
"And what are you going to do when you gets in there? He won't-"
"Y/n?" the boy's voice called to you, he was standing by the door of the closet that was for the game, looking bored. "Do you think we have all night? Although, you know I wouldn't mind." He winked at you.
"Okay, wish me luck" you walked away from your best friend showing a false confidence and walked towards the closet, entering with the boy walking behind you. You heard the door close and the sound of voices and laughter suddenly died away.
The space was small, with luck a person would enter next to the shelves full of clothes that were stored. There were some decorations and old toys that used to belong to Yena and her sister. Above the highest shelves, small Christmas lights hung that illuminated little creating a comfortable place. When you turned in your spot, Jaeyun's body leaned over yours and quickly analyzing your expression, he approached and kissed you. Your back hit one of the shelves and Jaeyun cornered you with his body, placing both hands on the sides of your head. Your heart began to beat quickly when his perfume flooded your nose and his lips devoured yours, practically forcing you to follow him, which didn't bother you at all. His lips were soft and had the taste of the sweet drink that everyone had been sharing earlier. His hands went to your waist, hugging you and taking you off the shelves, pressing your body to his. You relaxed a little in his arms when you noticed that he was just kissing and hugging you, and things weren't going to escalate. Or so you thought at the moment. The boy separated from your lips and his hands gently went down the sides of your body, positioning themselves on your hips.
"Do you really want to find out?" he murmured against your red and swollen lips. You didn't know what to answer and your heart continued to beat rapidly while the boy was still attached to your body. "Are you speechless already?" he let out a laugh. Your trembling hands rested on his shoulders and you looked into his dark eyes, which went from your lips to your eyes with deep desire. You let your impulsive thoughts win and you desperately attached your lips to his again, wanting to feel them on you again. He smiled in the middle of that kiss and brought his hands to your butt firmly. You were wearing a short skirt so one of his hands decided to go down the side and gently caressed your thigh, causing your skin to crawl. His lips were still glued to yours while his tongue and yours intertwined with each other. Your hands squeezed his shoulders tightly as his hand slowly began to move up the inside of your thigh.
"Jaeyun-" you broke the kiss and still with your eyes closed you tilted your head back. The boy took advantage of that movement, leaving a trail of kisses down your jaw to your neck, sucking gently and leaving a purple hickey. Nervousness took over your body and your heartbeat was erratic, you didn't know how to stop the situation that was beginning to get out of hand. You wanted to stop it because you didn't know how things would end, but you were embarrassed to separate him from you and that the boy would find out that you were nothing more than a stupid girl with a false personality. Your eyes filled with tears and a soft sob escaped your lips when his hand brushed your core over your underwear. He pulled away from your neck and looked at you ready to mock you when he heard you, but his expression disfigured when he noticed the nervousness in your body and your teary eyes.
"Y/n?" His hands gently grabbed your arms and he looked at you with concern. You shook your head and threw your head back, closing your eyes in shame. "Why are you crying? What's wrong?" His voice was soft, completely different from that flirtatious tone he used to have whenever he talked to a girl.
"I'm a fake" you whimpered, embarrassed. "I can't do this, I'm not ready" you denied several times. His brow was furrowed while listening to you, but still his hands caressed your arms trying to calm you down.
"Are you-" He thought about his words for a moment, you opened your eyes and looked into his eyes nervously. Your eyes had an innocent gleam that said everything your mouth didn't. His gaze completely scanned your body, which moved uncomfortably in his hands and he separated himself as much as he could from you, although the space was very small. "You're virgin" he didn't ask you, he stated it. He noticed it in your look, he noticed it in your reactions to his touch and the way you had hesitantly reciprocated when he kissed you without warning.
"I'm a liar, but I can't do anything about it, everything got out of hand" you shrugged and looked down at your hands intertwined in front of your skirt. "And this image they have of me gives me a certain... confidence in myself. A confidence that I never had" Jaeyun remained silent as he listened to you and you were dying of anxiety for whatever was next, whatever he was about to say, what would happen when you both got out of there and if he would laugh at you in your face and then tell everyone in the house. You heard him laugh and a knot formed in your stomach, but you snapped your head up when he approached you again and stroked your hair kindly.
"You're so cute" he shook his head several times, not believing the current situation and continued caressing you, forcing you to raise your head. He looked at you tenderly, his eyes with a shine that you had not seen before. The colorful but dim Christmas lights above his head flickered and gave him barely any illumination. It was a beautiful sight in your eyes because the boy was extremely attractive. "You have nothing to worry about, darling and you have nothing to be ashamed of either."
"Yena told me the same thing, but I can't help it, I feel stupid and now that you found out, I feel even stupider" you honestly wanted the earth to open up and swallow you. You didn't know how things would continue from now on, you didn't know what you would do or say when you came out, or what he would say or do too. You were completely nervous and scared, you felt like your teenage life had ended right there.
"Look at me Y/n" he asked you, placing a hand on your jaw and gently lifting your head. You looked him in the eyes again and waited for him to speak. Jaeyun looked at you for a few seconds and then smiled at you. "You can leave and I will make up some story without going into details, anyway it is not difficult to create a scenario with the things I would do with you, you are the hottest girl I have ever seen in my life, although now I can only see your real side that is so innocent and pure." He laughed when, under the dim lights above you, noticed your cheeks turning red. "Or also, you can stay and we can do something about it, give you something to show off and meet the expectations of those waiting for us out there. Also give you a little experience, what do you think? You choose, pretty." His hand rested on your cheek this time and with his thumb he brushed your lower lip.
If your heart was already beating rapidly, it was now out of control. You felt that your legs were shaking and you would fall right there because of nerves. You wanted to stay there with him and see what happened, your curiosity was great but your insecurity was even greater, you were inexperienced in the whole realm of intimacy and he was so experienced that you were embarrassed to do something wrong, but you longed for him to continue kissing you and touching you like no one had ever done before. Neither of you knew how much time had passed since you had entered the closet, but no one had knocked on the door so you didn't worry and continued on your own world. Jaeyun of course noticed how your head was going a mile an hour and caressed your cheek.
"Don't be afraid, if you say yes, we won't do anything you don't want to do and I'll stop when you ask me to" he assured you. He was trying to convince you, but only because he could see in your eyes the desire to stay with him and your body clinging to his involuntarily told him what your mouth didn't. He noticed that you didn't know how to say yes. "Can I kiss you?" he asked, waiting for your positive response. If you hesitated too much, he would simply back away and let you go.
"Please" you didn't try to hide the desperation in your voice that revealed how you wanted to feel his lips on yours again and he smiled sideways, nodding. He leaned over you and joined your mouths together, the kiss was gentle at first, a soft touch of lips testing ground. He brushed the hair from your face and tilted his face to the side, deepening the kiss as your mouths opened slightly and both tongues rubbed against each other. Your hands moved to his shoulders, drawing him closer to you to feel him pressed against your body. His hand went down the side of your body and grabbed your thigh, lifting your leg and positioning one of his legs between yours and lightly rubbing your crotch. It didn't make you uncomfortable, rather it caused shivers to run through your body. Jaeyun could feel your heart pounding against your chest and that also made his heartbeat quicken as he separated from your lips.
"Can I touch you?" The question left his lips like a sigh and you just nodded. "Use your words, baby."
"Yes, touch me" your voice was muffled as you once again felt shame take over your body, but he gave you a short kiss on your lips and smiled tenderly at you. He didn't want to be too intrusive, so his hand slowly entered the bottom of your blouse and caressed your waist, going up with caution and aware of each of your reactions, and brushed the lower part of your breasts. You had skin bristling and your body cold with nerves contrasted against his warm touch as you clung to his shoulders with slightly trembling hands.
"Calm down" he murmured against your lips. "Do you want me to stop?"
"No, no" you sighed and denied, convinced. He nodded again and cupped your breast in his hand, feeling your hard nipple underneath your bra. Your legs closed involuntarily and pressed his leg that kept them apart, he lowered his gaze and let out a mocking laugh.
"It seems like you want me to touch another part of you" his tone was mocking, but actually he was still analyzing each of your reactions and he didn't mean to make you feel embarrassed, he just wanted to play with you a little. "Do you want me to touch you there?"
"Yes, please" you responded quickly, your eyes squeezing shut to avoid his gaze. Your reactions drove him crazy, the way you moved desperately in your place and your cheeks were flushed waiting for his touch, how you asked please for everything.
"Just tell me if you want me to stop." he warned you. "Spread your legs a little, princess" you obeyed him and he undoubtedly brought his hand between your legs, caressing the inside of your thighs making you hold your breath as his hand began to go up to your crotch. "Breathe, baby" he giggled and you nodded too, laughing out of nerves. Jaeyun felt calm when he heard you laugh and regularize your breathing, noticing that you were nervous but comfortable with his touch, so with his fingers he touched your pussy over your soaked underwear. His eyes widened with some surprise and his breath caught in his throat. "Damn, why are you so wet?" he felt as if electricity ran through his body and was going to stop straight at his cock. He swallowed hard and focused on you.
"I-" a lump formed in your throat, you were so embarrassed you felt like you were going to cry and he noticed.
"Sh, don't worry" he assured you, with his free hand he caressed your face and kissed your cheek. "This is so hot. The way your body reacted to just a couple of my touches and how much you want me to touch you but your pretty little mouth doesn't dare say it" he left a peck on your lips. "But don't worry beautiful, I will become an expert in your body language." You felt like your heart was going to explode in your chest at his words, his voice and the way he said each sentence while his hand played with the elastic of your underwear. "Excuse me, I'm going to take this off" you nodded and he crouched down in front of you sliding your underwear down your legs, his fingers brushing your skin making it crawl. You didn't know where your underwear was after he stood up again and in front of you because your eyes were squeezed shut. "Open your eyes, Y/n" he asked, you took a deep breath and obeyed him. His eyes had a mischievous gleam as his lower lip was trapped between his teeth, looking at you with lust. He spread your thighs further, forcing you to open your legs a little more and his hand went to your crotch, sliding his fingers easily along the length of your pussy. You pressed your lips tightly, the shock your body gave from the wave of pleasure that grew in you as he caressed you. "It feels good?"
"Mhm" you nodded quickly and pressed your head against the shelves behind you, holding yourself tightly to his body.
"Don't hold back darling, I want to hear you" his fingers moved slowly but rhythmically in your core spreading all your fluids. "Let me hear how good you feel, don't worry about those outside, they must be drunk already and involved in another stupid game again to remember that we are here. Come on, moan for me." his fingertips probed your entrance and his middle finger slowly slid inside you. You couldn't stifle the moan that escaped your lips at the sudden intrusion, you felt strange but it was a pleasant sensation. It's not like you haven't touched yourself before, but his hands and fingers were clearly bigger than yours so it felt different. His fingers moved slowly inside you and you squirmed in place, digging your nails into his shoulders, thankful that he had his shirt on so you wouldn't hurt him, although he wouldn't mind at all.
“Keep going, please” you begged. He slid another finger inside you and your walls clenched as his fingers curled inside you, touching a specific spot that made your body shiver. “It feels good, Jaeyun.” When his name left your lips he felt his cock jerk and he thrust his fingers in and out of you, taking a faster pace inside your tight walls. You continued moaning loudly and this time you looked into his eyes, your eyes had tears and he didn't know if they were from pleasure or pain, so he stopped his movements.
"Relax, pretty" he caressed your face again and again slowly, you nodded and sighed. You both stayed still for a moment, you breathing heavily and him spreading kisses across your face to calm you down.
"Keep going Jaeyun" he put his fingers in you again and this time with his thumb he reached your clit, rubbing it in circles. Your mouth opened and your legs trembled from the strong shock of pleasure that your entire body received. "Oh God-"
"Feels good? Do you like it?"
"Yes, yes. Please" your eyes almost rolled back and your hips moved involuntarily to the rhythm of his hand and he knew you were close to your orgasm. "Don't stop."
"Whatever you ask for, princess" he continued fucking you with his fingers and playing with your clit quickly while in contrast his other hand gently removed the fine hair that fell on your pretty blushing face. "Are you going to cum?"
"Yes!" you almost screamed in pleasure and his fingers tightened in you, your body felt the wave of pleasure explode inside you as your head spun, your legs weakened and Jaeyun wrapped his arm around your waist to hold you tightly as his hand on your pussy slowed down their movements once your body relaxed. Your head fell against his shoulder and he rubbed your back, hugging you to him. "That was incredible" your voice sounded exhausted and you felt his body shake as he laughed. "Thank you" you murmured, separating yourself from him and meeting his dark gaze. Your eyes widened in panic and you stifled a gasp when he brought his fingers glistening with your fluids to his lips and inserted them into his mouth, cleaning them completely with his tongue.
"So sweet" a half smile adorned his face as your cheeks turned even redder. You didn't know where you got the courage from, but you put a hand on the back of his neck and pressed your lips to his, surprising him and causing him to moan that ended up lost between both mouths, while you could faintly feel a hint of the taste of your fluids on his tongue. He separated from you before everything got out of control again and looked at you from head to toe, adjusting your clothes and your hair so you can come out decent.
"M-my underwear?" you asked shyly, feeling very obviously that something was missing under your skirt.
"Ah, no" he shook his head. "It doesn't belong to you anymore, darling." You blinked in shock and then let out a laugh. Your gaze moved down his body and you noticed the very noticeable bulge in his pants.
“Oh, you-” he followed your gaze."Should I-"
"No. Don't worry" he reassured you."The important thing here is that you enjoyed yourself."
"But- I really want to do something about it" you were still shy and he couldn't believe it since minutes before he had his fingers buried inside your pussy and you had ended up trembling in his arms. He also couldn't believe how before entering that closet you had that arrogant look and your head held high, showing yourself confident and having everyone at your feet only to turn out to be all just a facade that hid a shy Y/n completely terrified of everything. Jaeyun definitely wanted to keep seeing those innocent eyes filling with tears from the pleasure your body had never experienced.
"Next time we will do something about it, rest assured" he winked at you and took your hand, you just nodded and followed him when he opened the door and you both left the closet -who knows how long later- and were greeted with extremely out-of-character comments from your friends.
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I feel like this deserves a second part or I just feel like writing even more idk
send me request for zb1, enhypen and stray kids.
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thebeesatemyknees · 9 months
Text
141 as ex-husbands
Some ex-husband (ooc) Simon Ghost Riley, John Price, Kyle Gaz Garrick and Johnny Soap MacTavish x reader headcanons.
Word count: 860 || No warnings (let me know if any). || Reader: gender neutral. Pronouns: "you"
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Note: In all four scenarios, you got divorced for fairly harmless reasons. You were getting along, you loved each other, there was no fighting. But perhaps you realised that you both have different hopes for the future. Maybe you got sick of waiting for him, missing him, of worrying if he's gonna come home alive and in one piece. Maybe he didn't realise how lonely you felt beside him.
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Ex-husband Simon Riley, who still thinks of you as "his", but not in a possessive way. You're still his person, his family. He still would do anything for you and wouldn't even give it a second thought. 
You need help assembling new furniture? He can come by after work. Need a ride to the doctor's appointment? He needed to run some errands anyway, it's not a big deal. Anything happens while he's deployed? You can call his base and he'll contact you as soon as possible.
And he doesn't expect anything back. How could he? He's gonna do anything for you because that's what you're supposed to do for your people. And he'll give you your space, keep it clean between you. You wanted a divorce and he respects that, doing his best not to overstep any boundaries. He's mindful of the things he says, keeps his hands away from you. A respectful distance.
But God, does he miss you. If you showed the slightest interest in getting back together, he would agree immediately, going back to what you two had, as if the divorce never happened. 
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Ex-husband John Price, who kinda forgets that you're not married anymore. Similar to Simon, John still thinks of you as his and would do anything for you without expecting anything back. 
But you often have to remind him that he's overstepping. "Darling" or "love" casually added to his sentences. Hands gently holding your shoulders or hips while he directs you to move to a different spot. He doesn't do it on purpose. The last thing he'd want is to disrespect your boundaries or make you uncomfortable. But keeping you close just comes so naturally to him.
He apologises quietly when you reprimand him, pulling his hands away and restating what he said without the pet name this time.
He wouldn't beg you to give him another chance. He's got enough respect, towards you and himself, to not be dramatic, to not make it messy. But he has a hard time accepting this new reality.
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Ex-husband Kyle Garrick, who subconsciously goes back to courting you, as if your marriage never happened and all of it was still ahead of you. 
He's more distant, doesn't initiate touches, doesn't use pet names anymore. And at first you think it's because that's just how break-ups work, because he'd moved on. But it all seems to be caused by him suddenly becoming almost shy around you. 
He sends you messages from time to time, checking if you're doing alright. He asks you out for coffee, just to catch up. You ended things on good terms, so there's no harm in it, right? And you can see him trying to act casually about it. He brings you one singular flower he picked on his way to the café. Cuz you like them, don't you? It's not a big deal, he saw it and put it in the pocket of his jacket. So casual. Then, your conversation stays on a purely platonic path. Well, except for a few compliments and pick up lines he throws your way. But that's what friends do! And if you don't let him drive you home, he asks you to at least text him to let him know you got back safely.
If you confront him about his behaviour, he gets quiet. His jaw twitches, a shameful look fills his eyes as he looks away, unable to fully face you. He doesn't feel like he's in the position to defend himself, to argue. He's guilty. He wants you back for himself. And he so badly regrets letting you go without trying harder to fix things.
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Ex-husband Johnny MacTavish, who becomes bitter towards the whole world. He's not happy about losing you and he's straightforward about it. He's hurt, filled with regrets, he's angry - but not directly at you. He understands and respects your wishes, but he's just so angry with himself. Angry that he didn't notice where your marriage was going, that he didn't change his ways, that he assumed that you're his and therefore he's got a lot of time to slowly fix things. Angry that he didn't do enough. 
He wouldn't hide his emotions. He wouldn't get shy,  wouldn't just quietly yearn for you. 
He keeps his hands to himself, making sure he doesn't make you uncomfortable and that you still feel safe around him. But he continuously asks you for another chance. He knows better now. He can be better. Just give him a chance. Or at least let him do this or that for you. And don't act as if him helping you is weird! He's yours, nothing will change that. He promised he'd be there in sickness and in health, and he meant it. No matter how much your life-paths split. So stop pushing him away and just let him help. He'll stop asking you for a second chance, but at least let him be there for you.
He aggressively offers himself to you. Getting upset and moody if you act as if he was more akin to a stranger rather than someone who belonged, body and soul, to you.
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theambitiouswoman · 10 months
Text
Questions To Ask Yourself If You Want To Become The Best Version of Yourself
What do I really care about? What things are really important to me?
What am I good at, and where do I need help? What am I strong in, and what could I get better at?
What do I want to achieve soon and later? What things do I want to do soon, and what are my bigger, long-term goals?
Am I trying new things and not just staying comfy? Am I doing things that might be a bit scary but good for me?
How do I deal with problems and when things go wrong? What do I do when stuff doesn't work out?
Am I nice to myself when things don't go well? Do I treat myself kindly, especially when things are tough?
How do I use my time, and what's most important? How do I plan my day, and what things matter the most?
Am I learning new stuff regularly? Do I keep finding out new things?
Do I have a good balance between work and fun? Do I make sure to have enough time for work and for things I enjoy?
Do I have good friendships and avoid bad ones? Am I friends with people who make me feel good?
Do I take care of my body? Am I eating well, exercising, and sleeping enough?
Do I think about my feelings and thoughts? Do I pay attention to how I'm feeling and what I'm thinking?
How do I deal with stress and make myself calm? What do I do when I'm stressed out?
Do I help others and make the world better? Do I do things to make people's lives nicer?
Do I have good habits and get rid of bad ones? Are there things I do every day that are good for me? Are there things I should stop doing?
Do I learn from what people say about me? When people give me advice, do I listen and try to get better?
Do I say no when I need to? Do I tell people when I need space or when something isn't okay for me?
What makes me really happy? What do I like to do that makes me feel great?
Do I use money wisely? Am I good at saving and spending money in smart ways?
Do I believe I can improve and get better? When things are tough, do I think I can get through them and learn something?Am I being kind to others and making them feel good? Do I treat people nicely and make them happy?
Do I learn from things I do wrong? When I make a mistake, do I figure out how to do better next time?
Do I try new things, even if they scare me a little? Do I give things a shot, even if they seem a bit scary?
Am I spending time with people who care about me? Do I hang out with folks who like me for who I am?
Do I eat healthy foods and move my body? Am I eating good stuff and getting some exercise?
Am I sharing and helping others when I can? Do I give stuff to others and lend a hand when I'm able to?
Am I paying attention when people talk to me? Do I really listen when others are speaking to me?
Do I take breaks and do things I enjoy? Do I give myself time to rest and do things I like?
Do I say sorry and make up if I hurt someone? When I make someone feel bad, do I apologize and try to make things better?
Do I imagine good things for myself in the future? Do I think about cool stuff I want to do?
Do I stop and relax when I'm feeling stressed? When I'm worried, do I take a moment to calm down?
Do I ask for help when I need it? Do I tell someone when I can't do something on my own?
Do I try my best, even when things are tricky? Even if it's hard, do I give it my all?
Do I pick up after myself and keep things tidy? Am I good at cleaning up and keeping things in order?
Do I use my time for things that matter most? Do I do important stuff before other things?
Do I think about good things that happened today? Do I remember all the nice things that occurred?
Am I okay with making mistakes and learning from them? Do I know it's okay to mess up sometimes and learn from it?
Do I show appreciation for the people around me? Do I let others know I'm thankful for them?
Do I take deep breaths and relax when I'm upset? When I'm mad, do I breathe and try to calm down?
Do I believe I can do better and keep growing? Do I think I can get better at things and keep getting smarter?
Am I happy with who I am right now? Do I like myself just as I am?
Do I feel okay when things don't go as planned? When stuff doesn't work out, do I stay calm?
Do I think about good things about myself? Do I focus on the nice parts of me?
Do I let go of things that make me sad? When something makes me upset, can I move on from it?
Do I notice when I'm feeling worried or scared? Am I aware of when I'm feeling nervous or frightened?
Do I believe I can do things even if they're tough? Can I do hard things if I try?
Do I try to make my mind peaceful? Do I relax my thoughts when they're racing?
Do I find things that make me feel relaxed? What can I do to feel calm and at ease?
Am I patient when things take time? Can I wait without getting upset?
Do I talk kindly to myself in my head? Do I say nice things to myself in my mind?
Am I curious about things and want to learn? Do I like to find out new stuff?
Do I think about good times and happy memories? Do I remember fun things that happened before?
Do I try to understand how others feel? Can I tell what others are feeling?
Do I imagine nice things happening in the future? Can I think about good stuff that might come?
Do I take time to rest and be by myself? Do I give myself breaks and quiet time?
Do I let go of things I can't change? Can I forget about things I can't do anything about?
Do I believe I can do things even if I don't know how yet? Do I think I can learn new things?
Do I tell myself I'm doing a good job? Do I give myself a pat on the back?
Do I stay calm even if things are really busy? Can I be relaxed even when things are crazy?
Do I know that I can make mistakes and it's okay? Do I understand that everyone messes up sometimes?
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inuyashaluver · 3 months
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hii would you be able to write a leah x reader fic where reader is just very veryy sleepy and just falls asleep on leah a lot no matter what time it was or where they were
sleepy girl - leah williamson
leah williamson x reader
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description: in which you’ll always be leah’s sleepy girl
warnings: suggestive, swearing
a/n: i’m back!! this req too cute! thank you for the request, lovely! enjoy!! i don’t throughly enjoy this but it’s okay
⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆
if there was one thing that everyone knew about you, it was that you were extremely sleepy. it didn’t matter what you did, or how many hours you slept, you had the ability to fall asleep anywhere, especially if you were with your girlfriend, leah.
there was just something about her shoulder that lulled you to dreamland when you least expect it.
it really wasn’t uncommon to see you cuddled up to leah, sleeping soundly while she gently palms your skin or just holds your hand.
maybe it was her scent, or her gentle touches that topped it all and leah ate it up everytime.
leah absolutely loved you in your sleepy state, your most affectionate and easily convinced state, she just thought you were the cutest.
you and leah had been friends ever since you could remember. you both went through the arsenal youth teams and stuck together like glue. you both quite literally could not be separated, finding a sense of comfort in being together anywhere and everywhere.
it came to no one’s surprise when the two of you started dating at 21, a late realisation from both of you.
you and leah often laughed about her mum’s reaction of: “haven’t you always been dating?”. your love was very pure, and genuine. full of affection and respect, both of you so giddy to finally be dating after the years and years of pining.
throughout your relationship and friendship, leah learned just how sleepy you could be and she found it incredibly endearing you felt safe enough to sleep anywhere if she was there.
“baby,” leah whispers, her hand rubbing comforting, warm circles over your (her) shirt in the early hours in the morning. you both had training and leah always made it her personal mission to be the one to get you up in the morning.
you grumble, burying your face into the pillow of your shared bed. leah lets out a little giggle, moving to lie back down to rest the side of her head on your shoulder blade. “please” leah nuzzles her head against you.
the gentle rise and fall of your body had her smiling affectionately, her hand still exploring your skin and if anything sending you right back to sleep.
“come on, my girl, training” she reminds you gently, holding herself up slightly over your body to place a gentle kiss between the space of your shoulder blades.
“no, lee” you whine, shaking your head, leah laughs again, giving the back of your neck a kiss this time and smiling at the way you giggled at the ticklish sensation.
“yes, lee, come on!” she pleads, gently rolling you around so you could lay on your back. you squint and look up at her and she takes you in, she always loved you in the mornings, always a little grumpy but softening for her almost immediately.
“good morning, sunshine,” she chuckles, a hint of a smile plays at your lips and you hold your arms up, she grins brightly, wrapping your arms around her neck in an attempt to lift you from the bed but you dragged her down with you. she laughs brightly when your legs wrap around her waist and pepper kisses all over her face.
“(y/n)!” she attempted to reprimand, but the way she was melting into you told you everything. “why are you denying me sleep, and my own girlfriend?” you rasp out, leah hovers over you slightly, smiling down at you cheekily.
“i’ll buy you a little treat if you get up right now” she persuades, you smile up at her and nod while she lays a gentle, sweet kiss on your lips before she hoists you up. “you’ve got yourself a deal, williamson” you kiss her cheek with an exaggerated ‘mwah’ making her laugh once more, one of your favourite sounds in the world.
you were both in the gym in the arsenal training facility, you and leah were stretching on mats, until leah began to drink water and you planted yourself in her embrace.
she happily welcomed you, pulling you close by your waist so your back was flush to her front, her arm securely wrapped around you while she had some water.
she held the bottle to your mouth and forced you to have some, kissing your cheek when you finished. she wraps her free arm around your waist and hugs you tightly.
you melted into her, your head resting on her shoulder quickly had you falling asleep.
“do you wanna watch a movie later?” leah asks softly in your ear, when she doesn’t hear a response, she leans forward slightly to see you dozing off on her shoulder.
she smiles brightly, pulling you closer and kissing your cheek gently before she rested her cheek against yours.
“look at you, lovebirds” beth teases, leah throws her a glare and beth sticks her tongue out at her in response,“fuck off, beth” leah whisper shouts, making sure not to wake you up accidentally.
though, all the movement managed to wake you up. “sorry, baby, beth’s being a little shit” leah grumbles, kissing your cheek apologetically as you grip onto the arms wrapped around you.
“it’s okay” you yawn, now fully awake after your little power nap.
you turned your head around and smiled at leah adoringly, it had blood rushing to her cheeks almost immediately.
you kiss her lips quickly and mutter sweet words against her lips, leah could tell beth was teasing her from afar at how soft leah was at that moment. but leah didn’t care, her girl showing her clingy, soft side had her heart soaring.
“my sleepy girl” leah coos, pinching your cheek lightly, you smile up at her, slowly blinking while your eyes trail along her face. “you’re pretty,” you utter, she raises her eyebrows at you amusingly.
“someone’s still a little sleepy” she chuckles, you shake your head and lean into her, “no, i’m awake” leah grins, her heart beating out of her chest when you began to play with her fingers, you were now arguing with beth over your sleeping habits.
“fuck off, beth, leah’s really comfortable” you defend, huffing in frustration, “clearly! since you fell asleep in what, two minutes?” beth teases, leah laughs and you turn to her offendedly, her smile slightly dropping at your narrowed eyes. “sorry” leah breathes out, tightening her grip on you as you turn back to argue with beth.
when leah went down with her acl, you took care of her with utmost hospitality and diligence. leah often had to beg you to sit down so she could cuddle you because you just wouldn’t stop. leah knew she couldn’t have gotten through recovery without you, telling you that almost every day.
you couldn’t wait for leah to come back, counting down the days but also being extremely strict with her and her recovery.
“leah, no, ice it” you say sternly, placing the bag of ice back on her knee. “baby, please, i’m bored!” leah groans, making grabby hands at you in an attempt for you to sit down.
“leah” you say flatly, leah rolls her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest, “stop calling me leah” she grumbles, your face softens and you go and sit next to her, kissing her cheek apologetically as you both watched the movie on the tv.
“sorry, baby” you start, “i need you to get better, i’m lacking in my leah training naps” you tease, leah scoffs with a laugh, shaking her head but pulling you into a sweet kiss, “i’ll be better soon” she demands, kissing your lips repeatedly.
the day she finally was able to come back was for an england match, and you were both starting.
for the first time in your relationship, you got up first, the excitement jolting you awake. leah’s arm was wrapped tightly around your waist while her legs were tangled with yours.
you placed a little kiss on her nose and giggled when it crinkled under your touch. leah’s eyes flutter awake and she gives you a surprised smile, “why are you awake? what’s wrong?” leah mumbles, moving to lie on top of you, her face burrowing into the crook of your neck.
you scoff, unable to resist carding your hands through her hair as she leaned into you. “it’s the big day” you gasp excitedly when you feel leah kiss a column of kisses up your neck.
she smiles against you and hums, you close your eyes and sigh contentedly, “mhm it is, don’t fall back asleep, we’ve got a game to win” leah teases, pinching your hip lightly, making you giggle before moving to pull you into a breathless kiss.
“i’m wide awake, thank you very much” you defend, “i’ll give you a couple hours till my shoulder turns into a pillow” leah teases, bursting out laughing when you don’t defend yourself, your cheeks pink as she leans in for another kiss.
the team were all having breakfast at the hotel before you all boarded the bus. you opted sitting with alessia and ella to let leah catch up with the girls.
but you couldn’t focus on the conversation, your eyes would drift to leah, a proud smile evident on your face that got you teased relentlessly.
it took about 15 minutes until alessia begged you to go over to her, tired of your yearning glances towards the blonde. you promptly left without a second thought.
you see leah chatting with georgia and keira on a table on the other side of the room and you just couldn’t contain yourself.
you walked up behind leah and keira and georgia laughed immediately at how you were only apart for not even 10 minutes until you needed to be near her again.
leah furrows her eyebrows and follows their gaze, her face immediately softening at seeing her favourite girl nearing with a bright smile.
you rush forward and pull her into a kiss, your hands cradling her face, she hums in surprise against you and pulls you to sit on her lap, the girls around teasing and wolf whistling at seeing you two.
“oh, hello,” leah breathes out with a giggle, you smile and pull her into another kiss, tame for the public eye, yet expressing every ounce of affection you both had.
“someone’s excited,” leah smirks, her hand running over your thigh as she draws you closer on her lap.
you nod along with her, kissing her cheek tenderly, “very excited, my girls back” you hum, resting your head against hers and focusing on the intense debate occurring between georgia and keira.
though, as leah kept cuddling into you, you felt your eyes begin to close and like clockwork, you were asleep.
leah felt your dead weight against her and she shook her head amusingly, kissing your shoulder and gently swaying you until it was time to get on the bus. “told you” she teases you, knowing you couldn’t hear her but still having to prove she was right.
“baby, let’s sleep on the bus” leah coos, smiling as you stir awake and immediately pull her into a tight hug. her hands on instinct rub over your back, chuckling when you wouldn’t let go. your legs wrap around her waist.
“no, i’m not moving” you whine, leah kisses your cheek before lifting you up, the girls laughing amusingly at the fact you were already asleep against leah.
she sits you down at the window seat and tucks you into her side quickly, she drapes your legs over her thighs and runs her hands up and down them gently while you sleep against her shoulder.
the girls passing by you giggle and take photos of a sleeping you and a very unamused leah at all the teasing.
“you must’ve done a number on her last night, williamson?” mary teases, leah narrows her eyes at her, her cheeks a little pink (mary wasn't lying), her stern captain face front and centre.
leah flips her off, refraining from arguing because she didn’t want to wake you up. mary laughs and turns back around, leah focuses back on you, moving some stray hairs off your face, her heart eyes evident to everyone as she looks at you adoringly.
you slept the whole way through, thanks to leah telling everyone to shut up if their voices just went above a whisper. “so help me, you wake her up, i’ll have you benched or doing laps” she’d threaten, the girls genuinely couldn’t tell if she was serious. (she was)
“love, we’re here” leah whispers, pecking your cheek and waking you up with a smile. “hi” you grin, “hi” she chuckles, kissing you quickly before tugging you off the bus, both of you waving to the camera with cheesy grins filming your arrival.
“good bus ride, girls?” the social media manager laughs, leah nods, nudging you with her shoulder, “this one got in a pre-match nap while i sat and watched” she teased, looking at you with a cheesy grin.
“such a creep, watching me sleep” you tease, winking at the camera and pulling leah off with your intertwined hands.
you and leah got taken off 20 minutes before full time. you both collapsed on the bench, absolutely exhausted from the brilliant performance from the two of you.
you give leah the biggest hug when you sat down, telling her how proud you were that she was finally back, and no less the captain of the squad.
as you both watched the rest of the match, you gently ran your nails over the skin of her arm as she rested her hand on your thigh. you both watched intensely, watching the match play out.
you moved over slightly to rest your head on leah’s shoulder and she already knew what was about to happen.
“don’t you dare leave me alone right now” leah teases, “i’m not, lee” you mumble, “you’re about to fall asleep, my love” leah laughs, “i’m wide awake” you scoff, glaring at her for a second before thumping your head on her shoulder.
“whatever you say, baby” she grins, squeezing your thigh gently as she leaned down slightly to make your position more comfortable.
her body was warm and her scent was enveloping you, her steady breathing and her hand caressing your thigh made your heart flutter, but also made you extremely sleepy.
you nuzzle into her and pull her arm closer to your body, promptly falling asleep. “and there she goes” she laughs to herself, kissing the top of your head as she watches the rest of the game.
the moment got filmed and went borderline viral, people laughing at how fast you fell asleep but calling the moment extremely cute between the two of you.
leah woke you up when it was finished and forced you to do your cool down, smiling at how dazed you were, promising you a good nap on the way home that you begrudgingly agreed to.
you both fell asleep on the bus to no one’s surprise but were both wide awake that night, showing leah just how proud you were of her comeback.
⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆
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liked by bethmead_ and 44,232 others
leahwilliamsonn: england’s star striker, everyone!
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yourname: it was a long day
↳ leahwilliamsonn: aw, i know, baby
yourname: but, where is alessia?
↳ alessiarusso99: hi
↳ leahwilliamsonn: so humble
↳ yourname: what can i say
↳ leahwilliamsonn: ah, there she is!
bethmead_: this girl could sleep through an earthquake, i swear
↳ leahwilliamsonn: oh 100%
↳ yourname: baby! you’re supposed to defend me, some girlfriend you are.
↳ leahwilliamsonn: fine, she’d wake up during an earthquake and THEN fall asleep
↳ yourname: 😐
read part two here !!
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stevebabey · 1 year
Text
Steve hates to ask this of Eddie.
Really, it’s a last resort sort of thing. Robin’s gone for the week, some trip upstate with her family. And it’s fine, they’re close but Steve’s a big boy. He can handle a week without his best friend.
But, well, it’s just unfortunate for it to creep up on Steve when Robin’s gone. It being… shit, how did Robin explain it? She was so much better at keeping track of all those things than he was, all the terms filed away nicely in her head to be recalled as needed. Steve’s much messier— in his head, in his life.
Touch aversion, that’s what she called it. A by-product of the severe lack of touch in his childhood she had said; not enough hugs, hand holding, the works and now Steve’s grown to find it too strange. Something prickles under his skin, pulls in his gut all the wrong way, when someone’s too touchy-feely with him. Robin’s said it’s normal, and he believes her.
It just makes it harder when this comes by. That completely strange backward want that carves into his chest, creating a chasm that just aches. Suddenly, Steve wants to be touched, needs to be touched — like something behind his ribs is just begging for comfort in the form of touch, any way he can have it. Like some young part of him can still remember the hunger he had for it and it comes back in full force, a tender wound between his lungs.
It doesn’t happen that often — though, it’s more frequent than ever recently — but usually, Robin’s here. She can almost always tell before Steve works up the courage to ask. Twitchy fingers give him away. He hovers closer than normal, shoulders brushing more often.
She always gives him a smile, softer than her usual snark and says, “C’mere, dingus.” and stands on her tip-toes to envelope him in a hug. Steve can’t help but sink into it, gripping her close around the waist for as long as he needs until the hole in his chest feels a step closer to patching up.
Robin also tells him he can have as many hugs as he’d like but Steve is firm with himself; he only needs one, then he’ll be back to fine.
It what’s he needs now. One really fucking good hug. Still, he hates to ask, least of all from Eddie, because, well— okay, Steve has no reason to assume Eddie wouldn’t give him a hug.
He’s seen Eddie’s hugs before. Like everything he does, Eddie puts his everything into it- he hugs Robin til she wheezes, loves to lift Nancy off the ground, and the hug he gives Dustin is sweetest of all, a hand on the back of the littler’s head while he does some strange little sway. Dustin always laughs, playfully shoving him away by the end but Steve knows he loves them, that it helps in more than one way.
Steve is glad that Dustin has someone, besides his Mom of course, who can hug him, because Steve can’t give that to him. Maybe one day, but for now, hugs from Steve are a rarity — few and far in between. Maybe, he thinks, he doesn’t want to ask Eddie specifically because of that niggling feeling that comes up around Eddie, all gooey and soft. A feeling the swings too close to a crush that Steve has no fucking clue what to do about.
So, he hates to ask. Really. On the drive over to Eddie’s, a hangout organised before Steve started to feel the lack of touch creep in, he runs through any other options. Wait til Robin gets back? Steve’s not sure he’ll make it another 4 days. When left alone, it seems to consume him and make everything harder, everything heavier to deal with.
He’s still tossing it when he climbs the steps to Eddie’s trailer. Steve decides that he’ll see how it goes, see if there’s an opening to ask…semi-naturally or something. He’s not gonna spring it on the guy.
Eddie is wonderful company as always, devilish grins and god-awful comments about the film he picked. Steve feeds off it, drinking in the infectious energy. He tries to let it be enough; their shoulders pressed together, Eddie’s knee knocking his when he laughs, the way Eddie leans into his space to whisper even though it’s just them here tonight. Steve wants it to be enough. But even then, he can see the way his hands twitch in his lap, desperate for more.
Steve closes his eyes. Curls his hands up so tightly his nails bite into the skin. He tries to use it to wane off the feeling, the ache that sings out for Eddie beside him and it nearly works. Until—
“Steve? Y’okay?” Eddie’s voice pipes up, making Steve open his eyes in an instant.
“Hm?” Steve hums, hoping that his casualness will be enough for Eddie to skip over his peculiar behaviour. He blinks, tilting his head just a bit to show he was confused why Eddie was asking.
Eddie chuckles lightly, gesturing towards Steve’s lap, where his hands sit still clenched, white knuckled with his self-restraint. “You seem a bit stiff, that’s all.” Eddie rechecks. “You good?”
Steve opens his mouth and then closes it, forcing his hands to unclench in his lap. “I-“ he begins, then stops, unsure of what he was going to say. He did say he would look for an opening tonight. The way Eddie’s regarding him, open faced with his concern, is as good as he might get.
“This might sound a bit weird,” Steve starts, defensiveness already tingeing the words, his shoulders curling in just a bit. Eddie could say no. He’s allowed to say no. Steve really doesn’t want him to. “Like, if you think it’s weird, that’s totally fine and we can just, like, forget I said anything and—”
“Steve.” Eddie cuts him off, a linger of an amused smile on his lips. “I don’t think I’m going to find anything you say weird, sweetheart. Shoot. What’s on your mind? What troubles the great mind of Steve Harrington?”
God, it’s like a whole bunch of words designed to set Steve’s head spinning. ‘The great mind of Steve Harrington’ makes him want to scoff. ‘Sweetheart’ makes him want to swoon. He can’t decide which one he wants to do more.
“Can I-” Steve stammers, the words halting automatically. It’s too much of a habit to swallow them down. Coercing them out takes more work. He stares up at the ceiling as he grits his teeth, releases a harsh sigh, pulling himself together. “Can I… have a hug?”
There a moment of silence and Steve holds his breath.
“Oh,” Eddie breathes, and Steve takes his eyes off the ceiling to see just what that Oh means. Eddie’s smiling, a soft one gracing his pretty mouth, and Steve thinks, maybe, one day he’ll have the courage to ask for a kiss as well. Relief moves sluggishly through his veins— Eddie’s smiling, this is good.
“Well, of course,” Eddie grins widely and opens his arms, inviting Steve in. Steve hesitates for only a moment before he leans in gratefully, his arms tucking around Eddie’s midriff tightly. Eddie’s arms curl around Steve’s neck, pulling him in close. It’s the easiest thing in the world, sinking into it, so much that Steve tries his best not to immediately slump against Eddie. It feels a bit too pathetic, so Steve reels himself in. He can’t make his arms relax, trying too hard to take only what he needs and not a moment more.
“C’mon, Stevie.” Eddie’s voice teases beside his ear, his breath warm. “You call that a hug?”
He squeezes Steve a little tighter, pulling him even closer and Steve can’t help the way he melts into it— he slumps, leaning against Eddie properly and burying his quiet whine of relief into the juncture between Eddie's neck and shoulder.
“There we go,” Eddie murmurs comfortingly.
Eddie takes him wholly, gives a damn good Munson hug, all warmth and comfort. He smells like, well, Eddie — a lingering scent of weed, something musky, something Eddie. His arms around Steve’s neck shuffle and Steve worries he’s trying to pull away so soon, only for one of his hands to tangle in the hair at the nape of Steve’s neck. He combs through, light fingernails scratching at Steve’s scalp and shit, Steve really can’t control the noise of contentment that slips out his throat.
“Can’t believe you got so worked up just to ask for a hug,” Eddie tsks, tone coloured in disbelief. Steve makes a noise of protest, trying for a moment to wind it all back in but, like Eddie can sense it, he’s squeezing him tighter again. He begins to rock them, a soft sway side to side that lets Steve lean on him even more. He hums a tune Steve doesn’t know, low and soft.
“M’sorry,” Steve mumbles in reply, though he’s not entirely sure what he’s apologising for. For having to ask, for taking so much, for enjoying Eddie’s arms around him just a little too much.
“What the fuck for?” Eddie laughs lightly, one of his hands beginning to drum against the divots of Steve’s spin. It feels like he’s tapping pure delirium with each fingertip, shivers that make Steve’s chest glow terribly warm. It feels good, so good to be held and honestly, Steve could stay here all night if Eddie let him. Knowing Eddie, he would, because he’s that fucking nice.
That knowledge alone forces Steve to sit himself up, extracting him limbs even though so much of him mourns the warmth, the touch, that goes with it. He wants the touch but he’s had enough. Some scorned part of him burns bitterly to think Eddie would give him more just to be nice. Steve doesn’t want that— Steve wants Eddie to touch him because he wants to.
“Sorry, man, I just, uh, get like that sometimes.” Steve feels the need to explain, bringing a hand up to rub at one of his eyes. He does it half so can hide his embarrassed expression from Eddie— who’s looking at him so gently and still so so close.
“Just, aha—“ Christ, it wasn’t this awkward telling Robin. Steve’s hand moves to rub the back of his neck. “Sometimes I realise it’s been awhile since,” He gnaws on his bottom lip, something alike to humiliation curling in his gut. “Since I’ve had some touch. Usually, Robin’s around but y’know.”
He waves a hand, huffing another awkward laugh. Eddie hasn’t moved much, just listening intently, his brows ever so slightly inching closer together. He looks outright concerned at Steve’s next words.
“It’s okay, I’ve— I’ll be good now.” Steve nods along, like the motion will help him convince himself as well as Eddie. He’ll be okay now. Usually, one hug is all it takes. He ignores the surging tidal-wave want that is still going, still aching to be held by Eddie again. It would be selfish to ask for more. Eddie didn’t invite him around to hug— it’s weird, and Steve shouldn’t- can’t ask for more.
“Sooooo,” Eddie draws out the word, an impish smile beginning to play at the corners of his lips. He opens his arms wide again. “You don’t want another hug?”
In his lap, Steve’s fingers twitch. Eddie’s eyes dart to them for a second, before fixing back on Steve. He does, he really fucking does want another hug. He can’t. He’s had enough, really, it would greedy to have more.
Steve shakes his head, forces himself to huff another laugh that accidentally comes out as a strained sigh. He smiles weakly, “No, no, I’m good, dude. It’s… I’m okay, swear.”
For a moment, Steve thinks he’s convinced him. Eddie studies his face, his mischief slipping away as he deliberates Steve’s words. His eyes narrow, arms dropping just an inch before he smiles brightly and says, “Okay, can I have a hug then?”
Which, okay, right, Steve didn’t think of that. People don’t ask him for hugs. He blinks, a bit dumbly. Eddie is waiting, face eager and for a second there’s an expression of almost smugness on his face — like he’s about to get exactly what he wants. Because he knows Steve would never be rude and say no.
“I mean,” Steve breathes, voice a bit tighter than he’s expecting. He clears his throat. “Yeah, yeah, you can have a hug.”
“Great!” Eddie replies and he wastes no time. He’s all up in Steve’s space, arms around Steve’s waist this time. The motion takes Steve by surprise, enough that because he’s not expecting it Eddie’s weight pushes him back so he’s lying on the couch.
If Eddie cares, he pays no mind, his head curling up into the crook of Steve’s neck as he hugs him closer. His hair gets in Steve’s mouth, making him splutter for a second, but Eddie just grins, wriggling closer until they’re pressed firmly against each other. Steve would go as far as to say this is closer to cuddling than a hug, with Eddie squishing him from above, his arms around Steve’s middle.
“Just so you know,” Eddie’s voice rumbles from where their chests are touching, his breath sweeping across Steve’s neck. Steve shivers without meaning to, feels Eddie’s responding grin even as he continues. “All hugs requested by me are automatically 10 minutes long. Hope you’re okay with that, sweetheart.”
Steve isn’t stupid — he knows Eddie is doing it for him, doing it because he could see right through Steve’s stupid facade, had peered his yawning hunger for touch right in the face and hadn’t blanched. Instead of feeling tricked or fooled, Steve just feels…warm. Comfortable. He works his arms around Eddie’s neck til their more comfortable and find the courage in him scrape his fingers through Eddie’s hair— like he had done to Steve. Eddie’s sighs sweetly and Steve thinks he could listen to that noise forever.
“I’m… I’m okay with that.” Steve murmurs lowly, yet he knows Eddie can hear him. Eddie noses closer, a borderline nuzzle against his neck, and further down, one his hands starts to stroke softly up and down Steve’s ribs.
Steve can’t help the way it makes him freeze, the breath in his lungs holding tight as he tries to relax, tries to ignore the prickly feeling under his skin. It’s a lot. A lot of touch that Steve just isn’t used to just yet, even if he desperately craves it.
“Relax,” Eddie whispers into his skin, a soft instruction paired with the motion, one soothing stroke up and down his ribs. Steve pushes the breath in his lungs out, forces the tension out of his body, trusts that Eddie wouldn’t be offering— wouldn’t tell him to relax if he wasn’t allowed to.
“That’s it.” Eddie praises, feeling the body beneath him settle and sink a little lower into the couch. “Now, watch the movie.” Eddie instructs, jutting at the still playing screen with his chin. Steve laughs a bit, but obeys, turning his head to see what part they’d gotten up to. They’d missed a big chunk in their hug. Steve nearly apologises for it, the words on the tip of his tongue, before he decides Eddie might smack him for it.
So, he doesn’t. He watches the film, let’s the gentle touch of Eddie on his skin relax him til sleepiness starts to fill each of his limbs, heavy like lead. Eddie’s hand stops moving eventually, when his breath gets heavier, lulled by Steve’s scratch in his hair. A snore starts up, loud and quite frankly, annoying, and yet, Steve finds that with Eddie’s arms around him, he has no trouble finding sleep.
It’s the first time in years Steve’s fallen asleep in someone else’s arms. And even if he doesn't know it yet, it’s certainly not the last.
now with a part two!
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golden-cherry · 2 months
Text
deal - cl16 (27/?)
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader
Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.
Chapter Summary: Cuddles and snuggles with friends are totally normal. But sleeping on top of each other?
Warnings: fluff, tiny bit of angst
Word Count: 3.2k
series masterlist
previous part
A/N: if seems very rushed, I'm deeply sorry. I just didn't know how to write this chapter. feedback is appreciated (as always, please and thank you!)
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As a cold gust of wind blows around your heads, you snuggle a little closer to Charles. 
"Are you cold?" he whispers into your hair and strokes your spine with his fingertips, giving you goose bumps. Something he uses as a reason to tighten his arms around you. 
The fire in front of you is almost out, with only a few logs crackling in the bowl in front of you, providing the last bit of warmth in the dark December night. The thin blanket wrapped around you doesn't do much to keep out the cold wind. As you start to shiver, Charles pushes you off his lap.
"I'll add some more wood. Hopefully you'll be a bit warmer then," he smiles gently and gets up from the couch. 
"It's okay," you reply and start to fold the blanket in your lap. "It's already late. We can just go home." 
But your roommate shakes his head. "We can still stay here." 
"But -"
"I still want to stay here." His tone sounds almost desperate. "Please."
When you look into his eyes, there's a warm sparkle in them. And when he smiles, the sweet dimples bore into his cheeks, and you can do nothing but return his smile. "Let's go then. It's freezing."
You watch him take some logs from the corner by the patio door and place them in the almost burnt-out fire bowl. While you stretch out on the sofa cushions and snuggle back into the blanket, he lights a new fire. The light from the flames illuminates his face and gives it a golden glow. 
You rest your head in your hand. "I didn't know you were so good at starting a fire." 
Charles, kneeling on the other side of the fire bowl, can't help but grin. His gaze flickers from the flames in front of him to you. "There are a few things I'm good at that you don't know about." He licks his lips once before straightening up and taking the few steps to the couch. His eyes move from your face to your covered body. "Is there room for me too?"
You raise your eyebrows before pulling your knees up a little so he can sit at the other end of the couch. "Here you go."
Charles rolls his eyes. "Nuh-uh." Before you know it, he slides his arms under your body and lifts you off the couch - without much effort. "We'll share the space. It's fair." He sets you on your feet and pushes the blanket into your hand, then stretches out on the sofa so quickly that you can't protest. He clasps his hands behind his head and grins at you. 
You, on the other hand, cross your arms in front of your chest. "I think we have different definitions of 'sharing'." As he slips an inch, you have to suppress a smile. "And apparently also of 'fair'."
"I think it's very fair," he defends himself, dropping one arm to his side so that it's between his body and the backrest. "I'm lying on the couch and you're lying on top of me." He shrugs, as if it's no big deal that he wants you to lie with your body on top of his. "Come on. I thought you were cold. And standing around isn't going to help you warm up."
You step from one foot to the other. "You sure?"
Charles rests his head on the armrest of the couch before spreading his arms out. "Come on. We sleep in a bed at home. There's not much difference here."
Not much difference. 
You feel your heart pounding. "There's a big difference between lying on top of each other and lying next to each other." 
Charles sighs loudly before sitting up and reaching for your hand. You can't resist as he pulls you towards him with all his strength, almost causing you to trip over your own feet. The blanket falls to the floor and thank God you can support yourself with your free hand, otherwise you would have landed on his face. 
"Charles!" 
Your friend wraps his arm around you so that you don't slip off him or land on the edge of the sofa. His cold fingers slide under your sweater and find their firm place at your side, while his free hand lifts the blanket from the floor and spreads it over the both of you. You have no choice but to lay your head on his chest and snuggle up to him. 
"It's not so bad, is it?" he murmurs into your hairline and kisses the top of your head, making your heart beat faster. You just hope he can't feel it. 
"For being so muscular, you're pretty comfortable," you confess, playing with his fingers as they continue to hold your hand. "Not as comfortable as the couch, but I'm not complaining."
You feel Charles' body shake beneath you. He laughs. "I can lie on top of you if you want." His fingertips slide further from your side and almost slide under your body. He presses you tightly against him. "Then I'd crush you. But maybe that wouldn't be so bad. The closer, the warmer."
You feel the blood rush to your cheeks and press your face into his chest. 
You're a little surprised that Charles turned the last remnant of his two-year relationship into ashes a few hours ago and is now making these kinds of comments. He even cried. But maybe that's what he needs. A friendship that goes deeper than shallow conversations and coffee dates. 
Maybe he needs the closeness, emotionally and physically. Something he can hold on to when the roof falls on his head. Someone who pushes him to be better, but also brings him back down to earth when he takes off. 
You want to be that person for him. Even if it costs you your heart.
You watch as the individual logs begin to burn. Charles' chest rises and falls beneath you and you feel his warm breath on your forehead as the fire crackles in front of you. Charles' hands change positions; the one that was holding your own a moment ago slides under your sweater to gently stroke your spine, while the other finds its way to your head. With warm fingertips, he brushes some of the hair from your face before he starts scratching your head. 
"Do you want me to fall asleep?" you murmur against his shirt-clad chest. 
"Would that be so bad?" You feel his lips move against the top of your head. Before you know it, you feel them on your forehead as he breathes a soft kiss on your cool skin. 
"Uh-huh." 
"Why? I thought I was comfortable?" His voice is barely louder than a whisper. 
You curl your fingers into his sweater. "Pretty much. You're pretty comfortable," you repeat to yourself. "My bed at home is more comfortable, though."
"Then I'm sorry." 
You twist your neck a little to look at him. You raise an eyebrow in confusion. "Sorry for what?"
He strokes your cheek once with his thumb. "That you have to make do with me." His warm breath caresses your face and although you are literally lying on top of him, you only now realize how close you are. 
You smile tiredly. "Don't worry," you push yourself up a little and press your forehead against his cheek; his beard scratches gently against your skin. "My bed may be comfortable, but you're still my favorite."
Charles' lips kiss the tip of your nose before he kisses your forehead once more. "You're my favorite too, mon amour." His long arms wrap around your body under the covers, holding you close as the rise and fall of his chest lulls you to sleep. 
You dream of peonies, pasta, red cars and lightning and warm lips on yours. Of strong arms that wrap around you, a body that lies on top of yours. You dream of Charles, his smile and the warmth he radiates. And only when his body moves beneath you do you slowly wake up from your dreams. 
"Sleep well?" Charles' voice is raspy and deep in your ear as you squirm a little in his arms. 
You exhale deeply, but keep your eyes closed. "Uh-huh." 
Charles laughs softly and your head bobs on his chest. "So I was more comfortable than I expected." 
Slowly, you open your eyes. The fire bowl has burnt out, there are only ashes in it and the only things that light up the night are the moon and the stars in the sky above you and a small lamp that shines a soft cone of light on you from the living room. "How long have I been asleep?" You rub your eyes sleepily. 
"A few hours. But don't worry, as far as I know you weren't drooling," he jokes, but that doesn't stop you from jumping off the couch as if bitten by a tarantula. 
"I'm sorry," you apologize, running your fingers through your hair, "I didn't mean to use you as a personal pillow." 
"It's okay," he replies with a smile and scratches his beard. "I was going for it with the cuddling and the tickling, after all." He shrugs his shoulders. "I'm quite irresistible."
An image of him on top of you flickers in your mind's eye. How true. 
"I'm sorry though." You grab Charles's legs and lift them up so you can sit on the couch next to him. His calves rest on your lap. "Your back must be incredibly sore."
He waves his hand. "This couch is still better than the one in our old apartment. It really was a horror." He leans back a little, stretches his back over the armrest and you can both hear the crack of individual vertebrae in his back. When you look at him with a raised eyebrow, he grins. "Oops."
"Come on." You push his legs off you and stand up. "Let's go home. There's a super comfy bed waiting for us. And there's enough room so we don't have to sleep on top of each other." You hold out your hand to him to pull him off the couch. 
He puts his hand in yours, but instead of you pulling him up, he pulls you back towards him so that you end up on his lap. "Then let's stay here. On this couch. It's not as comfortable as our bed, but at least I'll have you lying on top of me." His grin is so wide that it almost reaches his ears.
You roll your eyes in mock annoyance. You try to suppress the fact that your hands start to sweat and a warm shiver runs down your spine. "You're impossible."
"I thought I was irresistible?" he asks, leaning forward. 
You hold your breath. "You said that, not me. And you're talking a lot of nonsense."
Charles lifts his hand and places it against your cheek, letting it wander until his fingers find your neck and his thumb lifts your chin. His mouth opens and his tongue glides over his full lips. "True. But when I say you're the most important person in my life, that's not nonsense." 
You place your hand on his. "Then what is it?"
"The truth." He smiles lovingly. "You are - the light in my darkness, the fire in my veins, the music in my heart. I never expected that you could grow so fond of someone in such a short time. And then you came along." He hesitantly removes his hand from your cheek and the warmth it had radiated disappears. "You're my best friend."
Never in your life have you wanted to scream as loudly as you do at this moment. And you want to scream at the man in front of you, tell him that you want to be more to him than his best friend, that you want to kiss him, that you want to be his. And that you can hardly stand it when he's not with you.
And you want to scream at yourself, smack yourself, because you're trying to convince yourself that a friendship is enough, even though your heart is telling you that it's the last thing you want from him. You want to grab yourself by the shoulders and shake you until you come to your senses. 
You are Charles' friend. His best friend. And even if actions speak louder than words, his words were unmistakable. 
You smile at him. "I wouldn't want to be anything else either."
While Charles pushes the sofa back into place, you clear away the rest. You fold up the blanket and put it on the back of the sofa in the living room and the empty Coke cans end up in the garbage can in the kitchen. There's no sign of Joris, but his bedroom door is closed and there's not a sound to be heard. The apartment is dead quiet until Charles joins you in the kitchen. 
"Last time we were here, we had a fight afterwards, remember?" he asks, leaning against the doorframe. 
You turn to him and take a look at the kitchen island, where nothing is lying around except for a large wooden board. You chew the inside of your cheek. "I hate to remember that."
Your flatmate tilts his head. "The phone call or the argument?"
"The fight."
Charles pushes me away from the doorframe and stands opposite you at the kitchen island. "I'd like to apologize again. I went one step too far. And we haven't even known each other for twenty-four hours."
"Charles..."
"No, listen to me." He circles the counter until he stands in front of you and takes your hands in his. They're soft and warm. "I crossed a line that day and you were right to be angry with me. I just want to say again that I definitely don't want to do that again. The fighting I mean." He smiles. "I'd defend you to Raphael any time of day or night."
You purse your lips. "Then it's a good thing we can leave him behind. Just like Annika."
He lifts your hands and presses a fleeting kiss to your knuckles. "And I couldn't have done it without you."
The drive home isn't far, thank God, and as Charles parks his brother's car in the underground garage, you're overcome with tiredness again. You would have preferred to stay in the car, recline your seat and close your eyes. But Charles's hand on your thigh pulls you back into the world of the living. 
"We're here, sleepyhead. Come on, there's a warm bed waiting for you upstairs that can hardly wait for you to snuggle up in."
"I can hardly wait either," you smile as you unbuckle your seatbelt and follow your roommate to the elevator. The light inside is bright and far too harsh for your tired eyes, so you close them and lean your head against the elevator wall. "I'm so tired."
"But you slept." 
You open your eyes and look at your friend. "What's up with you? Aren't you tired too?"
He shrugs his shoulders. "Do I look that exhausted?" He runs a hand through his hair. "I slept a bit too, don't worry. You lying on top of me wasn't just comfortable for you."
You try not to think too much about his comment as you get ready for bed and then lie down in your long-awaited bed. You plug your phone into the charging cable and see an Instagram notification pop up. 
You have to smile. 
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liked by pierregasly and others tagged: yourusername francisca.cgomes: favorite cardigan, favorite person
"What's up?" asks Charles, who closes the door behind him. 
You try not to stare at his naked torso, which, thank heavens, you manage to do. "Here, Kika's following me on Instagram now." You hold your phone out to him briefly so he can see her post. "I'll just follow her back."
"Can I follow you now too?" he asks as he lies down in bed next to you, phone in hand. 
You look at him in confusion. "You're already following me."
Charles laughs as if you've told a joke. "That's right. But this is my private account. I'd like to follow you on my official account, if that's okay with you."
"It's okay with me," you reply, "but are you sure? After all, Kika has tagged me in her pictures. And if they go to my profile, they'll see that you're following me too, won't they?"
You don't really want to rub his caring in, but it was his idea to take Kika and Pierre furniture shopping. And to drive through Monaco in your old Renault. The fact that he wants to follow you - quite publicly and for everyone to see - on Instagram goes against everything he's done for your safety. 
"They will. But we're friends, after all, and I won't be able to keep you out of the spotlight forever."
"All right." A moment later, another notification pops up. You quickly accept his request and follow him back before looking at the last picture he posted. You grin at him. "Cool picture, who took that?"
Playfully clueless, he shrugs his shoulders before snuggling into the pillow. "My best friend." 
As you put your phone away, he switches off the bedside lamp and darkness and silence fill the room. You feel his warmth under the covers and you want to scoot the few inches over to him and press yourself against him until you're engulfed by his warmth. 
"Would it be weird if we cuddled?" His voice sounds hesitant, as if he was struggling to ask you that. When you don't answer, Charles quickly backpedals. "I'm sorry. I know we're just friends, but - I don't know - when you're there, I feel like I'm at home. And it calms me down when you're with me. I'm sorry, that all sounds totally selfish."
You reach under the blanket for his hand. He squeezes it twice. "Friends can cuddle too, I think. I mean, without ulterior motives."
"Good," he murmurs and his arm wraps around your middle to pull you closer. He drapes your leg over his hip and your hand rests on his chest. "Is that okay with you?" His fingertips dance on your bare skin under your sleep shirt. 
You press your face into his neck and breathe in deeply. As you exhale and your hot breath brushes over the soft skin of his neck, he pushes your leg down a little further, tangling your limbs together. "If that's what it is for you." 
"It is." Charles presses one last kiss to your forehead before resting his cheek against the top of your head again. "And now we need to sleep. Tomorrow is going to be a busy day. I don't think my mother can wait to get to know you better." 
"Do you think she'll like me?" you ask softly into the darkness. 
Charles' skin is warm and soft against yours as he presses you against him and your shirt slides up a little. "I think that anyone who gets to know you better will fall head over heels in love with you. Whether they want to or not."
-
Charles Instagram post
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liked by francisca.cgomes, pierregasly and others charles_leclerc: aux nouveaux départs posted three days ago
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positively-mine · 5 months
Text
You're a girl?!
how they find out you're a girl and their reactions
tags: afab (Floyd's part talks abt female anatomy), slight spoilers, lmk if there's any other
Series: ❤️ 🧡 🩵 💛 💜 💙 💚
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Azul
After his overblot incident, he assumed that you both had ended up becoming acquaintance (he won't give up on his 2nd branch at ramshackle). So he's keeping an ear out for opportunities. Also since he has contracts with so many students, he hears an unusual rumour. The ramshackle prefect is apparently female? Well, he'll just have to check it out for himself. Sends jade to snoop around but not in a perverted way.
Once the rumours were confirmed to be true, Azul literally bursts into flames. The memories of treating you so ungentlemanly all come flooding into his head. And you saw his chubby baby picture??? Unbelievable. In all honesty though, he doesn't try to get into contracts with you. Doesn't apply to the people around you. We both know who I'm talking about. Even if your friends can't pay, he won't threaten you that he knows because there must be a reason why you're hiding it. He couldn't imagine how he'd feel if someone did that to him with his baby picture.
Jade
He knew from the start. I don't know how but he knows. It's like his secret power. Doesn't do much, but he likes to tease. Either when you're in a crowded space or when you're with your friends. He'll drop subtle hints that you're a female but nothing major. Just enough for you to know that he knows 😐
Overall 4/10 because he keeps messing around with you but since he's one of my favorites we'll forgive and forget. Won't tell Azul because it's HIS secret. So you don't need to worry about Azul threatening you into a deal.
Floyd
He knew as soon as he squeezed you. The minute he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you up to his chest he knew. Something along the lines of "eh? Shrimpy, what's this lumpy things on your chest?" And it doesn't help that his voice is l o u d. Once it clicks in his head, he's smiling mischievously at you.
He seems like someone who will use your secret against you. He's bored? He'll come find you. You don't want to hang out? Do the rest of the student body know you're a girl? Yeah, so approach with caution. Once you stop showing any reaction towards his threats, he gets grumpy and pouts. Just make sure you placate him somehow. Because one day he really might just scream out to everyone that you're a girl.
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steddiealltheway · 5 months
Text
Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays :) This is way longer than I thought it would be, but it's been a while since I've written, so I think I needed it. I hope you all have a wonderful end to your year <3
Steve thought it was fate when he reached into Dustin’s old Santa hat and picked up a crumpled piece of paper with Eddie’s name scribbled on it. He had a gift stored away for Eddie that he bought weeks ago, and he was hoping there would be some way to get it to him without making it a big deal or something. Miraculously, the tiny slip of paper gave him that chance.
Now, two weeks later, Steve feels like his nerves are on fire as everyone gathers around in his living room, waiting to receive their gifts.
He goes off to the guest bedroom where the party had dropped off their gifts under the bed with the promise of not peaking - per Steve's request. Mike complained that the system was a little bit much, and Steve couldn’t argue with him. He just didn’t want to give away that he was Eddie’s secret Santa.
And now that he has pulled all the gifts out from under the bed, his stomach churns and his heart races. He just hopes his gift doesn’t cross a line or bring up unwanted memories, especially since he and Eddie aren’t exactly best friends.
Well, okay, they’re close. Considering the number of times Dustin has insisted they all hang out now that they’ve all been trauma-bonded, Steve has spent a lot of time with Eddie. But he hasn’t gotten a lot of alone time with him.
Sure, there have been a few times when Eddie has stopped by work, but Robin was always close by - not that Steve minded at all, except he got tired of the looks she would give him after Eddie left as if she was expecting Steve to say something. He doesn’t know what exactly he would say, but he will admit that it was always sad watching Eddie go. Maybe he should tell Robin he wishes he could stay a little longer, maybe even after hours.
The thought reminds him of the one moment they spent alone that Steve can't help but recall often. Even his present to Eddie is based around that moment which resulted in him purchasing something definitely higher than the price limit, but none of the kids would know that so it’s fine.
There’s a light knock on the door behind him, and Steve turns around. “Hey,” Eddie says with a small smile. “Everything okay?”
Steve smiles back, willing his heartbeat to slow down a bit. “Yeah, just trying to figure out how to get them all at once.”
“Let me help,” Eddie says, already bending over to grab half the stack that Steve had pushed out from under the bed. “You don’t happen to have a Santa suit do you?”
Steve’s eyebrows furrow. “No?”
“Damn. Next year, okay? And I want to be Santa.”
The corner of Steve’s lip quirks up and Eddie's eyes light up, looking awfully proud of himself. The two hold the gaze for a few moments longer than they should, but it’s not like that's new to them.
“Guys! What’s the holdup?!” Dustin yells.
Steve sighs and offers Eddie a now irritated smile before leading the way to the living room, glancing down at the names on each present before handing them out. He and Eddie finish around the same time, and Steve notices there are two clear spots for them in the small circle on either side of Dustin. He almost makes a snarky comment to Dustin, but he holds his tongue, knowing Max and El will shoot them irritated glares if they start bickering.
"El, why don't you go first?" Steve suggests as he sits down, not giving the rest of the kids a chance to argue about it. After all, no one is going to protest after all that El did for them.
El smiles and carefully opens her gift, but Steve spaces out a bit, lost in thought about his gift and questioning if it will be an appropriate thing to bring up in front of the kids. Eddie had shared the moment only with Steve and even hesitated in doing so, so maybe he doesn't want it to be broadcast to the kids. Shit.
Steve snaps back to reality when El knee-scoots over to Dustin, pulling him into a tight hug and thanking him for her present. Dustin flushes an interesting shade of red that Steve is definitely going to bring up later when he himself isn't panicking. For now, he moves the game along. "Alright, Dustin gets to open his gift now since he was the Secret Santa," Steve announces, nervously glancing at Eddie, hoping the excited look doesn't mean the gift is from him. He's not sure if he's ready for Eddie to open his gift yet.
Luckily, the gift is from Lucas, and Steve breathes a sigh of relief. But as the game continues and more people unwrap their gifts, Steve finds himself getting a bit impatient as he waits for someone to get their gift from Eddie. It's only when Max is last to open her gift that Steve realizes that he and Eddie are the only two remaining which means...
"No way," Eddie says with a big grin. "We're the only two who got each other."
Steve slowly looks down at the gift in his hand, neatly wrapped with a beautifully done bow that seems so unlike Eddie who always seems to be in a rush, doing everything with an almost frantic energy that Steve kind of adores. He wonders what he must've been like sitting still, carefully folding each curve of newspaper and taping it all together before neatly tying the red ribbon around the box into a beautiful bow. "You did this?" Steve can't help but ask, hoping he didn't just stick his foot in his mouth.
"Yeah," Eddie says somewhat bashfully as he pulls his hair in front of his face. "You do the honors." Eddie gestures to Steve's present and nervously rambles, "It isn't much really..."
Steve carefully undoes each fold, seeing the care Eddie took in wrapping a small box that Steve pulls the lid off of. He stares down at a small metal-looking thing and picks it up off the paper it's on top of. He presses it and startles a bit as it buzzes.
"A hand buzzer," Dustin laughs in disbelief.
"Maybe you two need to hang out more," El suggests innocently.
Eddie clears his throat. "There's a note in there, too, but you don't have to read it out loud in front of the kids or anything."
Steve keeps ahold of the little buzzer and picks up the note, staring at a few numbers in confusion before following an arrow that elaborates 24/7 Walkie Channel - especially at night. Steve flushes a bit red at the joke, but as he reads further, he realizes it's not a joke at all. In fact, he knows exactly what this is referring to.
-:-:-:-:-:-
Eddie walks up to the counter of Family Video and raps his knuckles on the counter. "Now tell me, what exactly is behind that restricted section with the red curtains?"
Steve rubs his temples and gives Eddie an unimpressed look. "You know exactly what's behind there."
"Well, maybe I want to hear it from my favorite employee. After all, you're supposed to help me with all my needs."
"Alright," Robin announces loudly, "I'm taking my break."
Steve hears the break room door shut behind him, and he drops his head in his hands with a slight groan.
"That embarrassed, Harrington? I thought you were like the expert here. Especially since Robin isn't allowed back there, but..." Eddie trails off but suddenly his voice gets much closer yet softer. "Hey, sorry. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. Sometimes I push too far without realizing and-"
Steve cuts him off with a short wave of his hand. "It's not that. You're fine really. Just didn't really sleep last night."
"Company or..." Eddie goes for a joke to lighten the second half of what he's implying.
Steve sighs and glances up at him. "It the 'or' option."
Eddie gives him a sympathetic look and glances around at the empty store before leaning on the counter, right into Steve's space, but it's comforting rather than intrusive. Eddie softly says, "I get it, man. The night terrors are... they're intense. I still see Chrissy when she..." He looks away, swallows hard, and takes a deep breath. "I get it."
Steve glances up and sees a matching haunted look in Eddie's eyes that Steve catches in the mirror from time to time. "It's harder late at night. I get this urge to reach out to everyone and make sure they're okay and..." Steve sighs and lowers his voice, "still alive." He shudders slightly and laughs humorlessly, "But it's not like I can just call everyone's house at night and wake up them and their family. I usually just wait for the urge to pass but it's harder for me with some people." Steve swallows hard, knowing what Eddie will ask next.
"Like who?"
Steve glances up at Eddie and says, "Robin of course because she's my best friend. Max is tough too because of how close she was to dying and you just never know if that thing will come back or not."
"He's gone for good this time. You know what Owens said," Eddie presses gently.
"Yeah, but I've heard it before," Steve argues. But he can't deny that things definitely feel more final now. Like maybe they're finally over. Still, he can't just let his guard down on the off chance that his gut isn't right for once.
Eddie shifts and nudges Steve's elbow with his own. "Anyone else though?"
Steve holds Eddie's gaze for a moment, and he sees the exact moment Eddie knows exactly what he's thinking as the memories of Eddie's lifeless body in Steve's arms flood in his head. "You were... gone there for a little while. And sometimes I wake up, and I think that you didn't make it. That the nightmare I keep having is actually reality."
Eddie gives him a pained look and places his hand over Steve's. "You can call me at any time. Day or night. I'll try my best to answer, especially at night."
"Eddie, I don't want to make you lose sleep any more than you already are."
"But I'm probably already awake. And I don't care if I lose sleep for you, okay?"
Steve glances up at him and flushes a bit as his eyes flicker down to Eddie's lips. For a moment, he thinks he might understand what Robin's looks mean, but he glances away before he can truly think about it. "That's not the only problem though," Steve confesses quietly.
Eddie just squeezes his hand, waiting for him to elaborate.
With a deep breath, Steve hooks his thumb on top of Eddie's pinky and squeezes back for some support. "I hate speaking in that empty house. My voice seems to echo, and it makes me feel more alone than I already am. And sometimes it feels impossible to speak about things. Like my voice doesn't work or something. I don't know."
"I get it," Eddie says simply, squeezing his hand again. "But really, if you ever need to call or stop by or anything. I'll be there." Steve holds Eddie's gaze, thinking maybe the upcoming night won't be so bad.
Before Steve can really say anything else, the bell on the front door dings loudly and he and Eddie practically jump apart. The customer doesn't even so much as glance at them, but they both still keep their distance, recognizing that the moment is over.
-:-:-:-:-:-
Steve stares at the little list in the note.
One Buzz: Checking in. I will buzz back so you know I'm okay. Two Buzzes: If you need to hear my voice. I will respond over the walkie and talk for as long as you like. Buzz multiple times, and I'll stop. And trust me, I will talk your ear off, so I won't get offended when you buzz. Three Buzzes: If you need me to call ever. Don't be afraid to use this one. Wayne is still working night shifts, so you're really no bother if you want to call first. But this way, I can be the one calling you so you don't have to worry about waking me up or anything. Really. The buzzes aren't too loud, so they shouldn't wake me up. Let me know if you want to add anything to this list. I have an identical list with my hand buzzer at home that I would be happy to add to at any time. Merry Christmas Love, Your Secret Santa
Steve stares at the note in his hand almost too stunned to speak. He doesn't think he's ever received a more thoughtful gift in his life. He pinches at his nose and tries to shut his emotions down a bit, and Eddie must catch on because he loudly announces, "My turn!"
Steve takes a deep breath, forgetting entirely about the gift he got Eddie. He watches as Eddie tears the wrapping paper off the small box then dramatically and very slowly opens it up with a big smile, knowing he has the kids' impatient attention practically in the palm of his hand. But when he finally sees the gift, his smile and whole act drop as a look of realization crosses over his face.
Steve's heart pounds in his chest.
Eddie slowly removes the little glass bottle filled with brown liquid and silently stares at it.
"What is that? Some type of fancy bourbon?" Max asks with a scoff.
Steve watches Eddie's eyes get slightly glassy, and he's quick to announce, "Something like that. But alright, we have to move on before your families start coming to pick you up. Was a snowball fight next on your cheesy list or something?"
Dustin is quick to defend the list the group came up with, but Steve is quicker in pushing them all toward the front door. "I'll be there in a bit. Eddie and I have to clean up."
The kids all rush to put on their coats and shoes, not wanting to be a part of any type of cleanup. Once they run outside, Steve closes the door and rushes back to the living room where Eddie's still staring at the bottle, a single tear going down his face. "You... you remembered... and you... you got... how?"
"Of course, I remembered," Steve says, thinking of what Eddie told him months ago.
-:-:-:-:-:-
Steve sighs and stuffs more things into a box from Eddie's closet. Dr. Owen's people had finally given the trailer the all-clear, so they were finally able to get the remainder of Eddie's and Wayne's things out of there. Of course, the kids had spent about an hour helping with the living room before taking a very very long break at Max's place. Steve assumes it will be lasting until the rest of the trailer is cleared out.
"They're great help, aren't they?" Eddie jokes as he brings another box into the room.
"Absolutely. Always willing to lend a hand. That is until they decide that the adults can just slave away for them."
"Someone needs to give them a lecture," Eddie sighs, pulling out a pile of clothes from his closet.
Steve scoots the box over and asks, "And why does that person always seem to be me? Especially when they don't listen to me."
"You're just so motherly," Eddie says with a big smile, dimples on full display.
Steve can't help but smile at the sight. And luckily he's staring his way when Eddie picks up another stack of clothes and suddenly hurdles something Steve's way. And even luckier, Steve's reflexes are quick, so he's able to easily catch the smaller glass bottle.
Eddie's eyes widen and he quickly grabs at the bottle, wrapping his hands around Steve's in the process. "Jesus H. Christ." Eddie's grip tightens as he stares at the bottle and breathes a sigh of relief, dropping his head to Steve's shoulder. "Have I ever told you that I'm so glad you're a jock?"
Steve snorts. "No, but whatever in this bottle must be important enough for you to admit it. So, tell me, what's in it? Alcohol? Some type of weird liquid drug?"
Eddie pulls back and looks away, still cradling the bottle and Steve's hands. "It's nothing. Just, hold it gently while I find another shirt to wrap it in."
Steve gently grasps the bottle and brings it closer, inspecting what it could be when he's hit with a bit of deja vu. He tests his suspicions and carefully removes the cap. "Eddie, why do you have an almost empty bottle of perfume in your closet?"
Eddie turns to him and asks, "Please, don't tell me you sprayed it."
"I didn't. The cap just gave it away."
Eddie quickly takes the bottle from his hand and puts the cap back on. "It's nothing. Like I said." He rolls it carefully in a t-shirt and places it in the box.
Steve slowly approaches and looks down at the box, frowning when he sees it start to blend in with the other pile of clothes in there. "I'll be right back," Steve announces before running out to his car. He opens the trunk and sighs, grabbing a shoe box and carefully placing his emergency date shoes in the corner of the trunk before taking the box inside.
When he gets back to the room, he reaches into the bigger box, fishes the shirt-wrapped perfume out, and places it gently into the shoe box before setting it aside. Steve glances up and notices Eddie staring at him. "Is that the emergency date shoe box?"
Steve is going to give the kids or Robin a lecture later about giving away people's personal information. "Yes," he admits.
"So, where are the shoes?"
"In my trunk," Steve says, moving onto Eddie closet to grab the last of the clothes.
Eddie pauses before asking, "You put your emergency date shoes the kids told me to never touch in your trunk to give me a box for my perfume?"
Steve shrugs. "Yeah." He stuffs everything down and closes the box, pushing it toward the door. But he's stopped by Eddie's hand on his arm.
"Why?" Eddie asks.
Steve straightens up and puts his hands on his hips. "It's clearly important to you, and I wasn't going to let you forget about it and accidentally throw it again when I'm not there to catch it."
Eddie holds his gaze for a few moments and Steve almost breaks the eye contact, not used to having Eddie's attention directly solely at him. But he feels like that will change in the future.
Eddie shifts and places a hand on Steve's back, leading him to where he placed the box. He picks it up and opens it, slowly unraveling the perfume and staring at it as if debating if he wants to share the story with Steve.
Steve just waits, not wanting to pressure him. Instead, he lets the moment play out.
Eddie breathes out, "It was my mom's."
It hits Steve all at once the implication of the phrase.
"She would wear it all the time. I remember she would put it on once in the morning, once in the afternoon, and once before going to bed. I told her it was silly to do that before bed, but she told me it was only silly if I let it be." Eddie smiles at the memory before growing distant in his expression. "When she got sick, she started forgetting the time more and more. So, I would remind her. And toward the end, I started putting it on her when she felt too weak to spray it."
Steve shifts and lightly rests his hand on Eddie's back as he continues, "I told my dad that she should be buried with it. That she would want to have it with her and wear it all the time." Eddie's voice cracks a bit and he clears his throat. "He told me that was silly."
Steve shifts closer to Eddie so their sides are pressing together, trying to give him physical support because he's unsure of what to say.
Eddie shakes his head and smiles sadly. "I kept it since then. And I used to spray it all the time, and god, the guys at school would make fun of me for smelling like girl's perfume, but I didn't care. But maybe I should've listened to them because now I only have this much left." He holds up the bottle to emphasize his point, the perfume so low that it seems to barely cover the bottom of the glass.
"One time, I brought it to a perfume store to ask what brand it was. I thought maybe I could save up and buy another one." Eddie shakes his head again. "But the lady accused me of stealing it. She said there was no way I would've been able to afford it in the first place. That there was no reason for me to even have it unless I was looking for a cheap buck to make."
Steve's grip on Eddie's back presses a little firmer as he feels anger and disgust toward the woman overflood his system. "That's fucked up."
"A bit, yeah," Eddie agrees. He glances at Steve, and Steve realizes how close they are, but he doesn't try to move away. "Do you want to smell it?"
Steve's brows furrow. "Eddie, there's barely any left in there, don't waste it on me."
Eddie smiles somewhat bashfully. "No, it's alright. I haven't used it in a long time, and after everything we went through, I need the reminder."
"If you're sure, then yes. I would love that."
Eddie holds out his wrist and lightly sprays the perfume. He uses his other wrist to rub it in before he holds it up to Steve's nose. Steve takes a deep breath and is suddenly taken back to a vague memory from a Christmas years and years ago when Steve was too young to succumb to the disappointment from his parents who were still around. But it's a happy memory nonetheless.
"What do you think?" Eddie asks.
Steve smiles softly. "I think your mom had great taste. And it smells really beautiful. I wish I could've met her."
"Me too," Eddie replies softly, staring at the bottle.
-:-:-:-:-:-
"My mom had the same one. Years ago it was gifted to her. I ended up finding the bottle in one of the drawers in her bathroom. It was still in the box, so it wasn't too difficult to find at the store," Steve admits. He holds out his hand and says, "Here. I have to show you something."
Eddie carefully places the perfume back in the box and takes Steve's hand, following him up the stairs and into his room. Steve regrettably lets go of Eddie's hand to pull out a box from under his own bed. He holds it up to Eddie who gasps, "Steve, this must have cost you a fortune."
Steve glances down at the five boxes of perfume and shrugs. "There was a Christmas sale. Plus, I was able to use my Harrington charm a bit."
Eddie grabs the box and carefully sets it on Steve's bed before quickly wrapping his arms around Steve and pulling him in close. "Thank you. God, this is the best gift I've ever gotten."
Steve squeezes him tight. "Same with yours."
They remain in each other's arms for a few moments, not rushing the embrace or questioning how long they're allowed to linger. Only, when Steve starts pulling away, he starts questioning his next move. Because more than anything he wants to kiss Eddie.
The realization hits him hard. He knows exactly now what Robin's glances mean and what she's been expecting him to say. Of course, deep down he knew, but he just hadn't had to face it head-on yet. But here he is and... "Eddie," Steve says softly, lingering in his space.
"Steve," Eddie replies quietly, eyes flickering down to Steve's lips, already knowing what he means.
Steve takes a deep breath, feeling his heart pound in his chest as he asks, "Can I?"
"Hell yes," Eddie replies.
They both move together at the same time, meeting each other in a gentle kiss which they linger in. Steve moves away to breathe and shifts to cup Eddie's face with his hands and bring him in again. He kisses him with all he has, filled with the awe of the thoughtful gift he received, joy of the gift well received, and the overwhelming feeling that this is right.
Steve breaks the kiss with a smile and whispers, "Merry Christmas, Eddie."
"Merry Christmas, Steve," Eddie says breathlessly before kissing him again.
And it really is a merry Christmas.
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tartarusknight · 6 months
Text
I want more platonic stobin and bisexualy disaster Steve and gay disaster Eddie in my life. So I wrote some :)
Steve wanted to scream as he tried the handle again. "Steve. Steve!" Robin pulled him away from the door. "They aren't opening the door, and you're just gonna break the handle. Keith already hates your guts. Don't make it worse." She pointed out, weirdly calm about all of this. "Plus, it's not like we don't share space normally." She says and sinks down to the floor, tugging him down with her.
Steve looked at the door, "Why can't they accept that we're only ever going to be platonic?" He asks and runs a ran through his hair. He was sick of this. Of the comments and the teasing. It stresses him out.
They kept pushing the two of them together, and Steve was worried that it could mess up what friendship he had with Robin. Because Steve's used to messing up and hurting someone, and he really doesn't want to hurt Robin. He has nightmares of outing her by accident and ruining her life. It terrifies him.
"Steve, come on, it's okay. It's just a stupid bathroom. We've shared a bathroom stall. This is bigger than that." She jokes, and he pulls his knees up to his chest.
"I can't do this, Rob." He admits and watches her freeze. Her walls climbed up like he said something really stupid. "I'm sorry, but I'm just-"
She cuts him off, "I get it. You don't want to deal with the backlash of being a lesbian's friend." She says, and he blinks.
"What? No! I don't want to say the wrong thing. I get bitchy when I'm annoyed and I'm easily annoyed when I'm stressed. And I'm stressed! So I don't - I can't be the one to out you. I can't mess that up for you." He says, and it's nice to finally admit his fears.
Robin blinks at him, "That's what- Steve, that's what bothers you about all this?"
Steve nods, "I mess up everything I touch. I can't do that to you, I won't do that to you. Honestly, you should probably find better friends. One who thinks with his brai-"
"Shut up." Robin snaps, and he stops speaking. Looking at her with wide eyes. "You can't talk about my best friend that way. I won't let you," She states.
"You're best friend?"
Her eyes soften, "yeah dingus. Who else would be my best friend? We're soulmates," She decides, and he's confused because she sounds like she means it. "Platonic, with a capital p, soulmates."
He swallows back a ball of emotion, "even if all the kids I babysit-"
"Mother."
"Babysit," he stresses, and she smiles. "Try to get us together at every opportunity and won't believe that we aren't in love. Or that I'm in love with you at the least. I think you're better off because you call me dingus more than my name," he mused.
Robin sighed, "I won't say that it's not annoying. But I'm used to dodging questions about boys, and this way... with you, I have someone to be myself with. That's more important to me than some stupid preteens who think locking us in a bathroom would get us together."
Steve smiles, "last time we shared a bathroom did go pretty well, honestly." She knocked her knee into his. He glanced over at the door. "Do you think they'll give up?"
Robin snorts, "Dustin's more invested in your love life than you are. I don't think he'll give up unless you're dating someone else or the truth comes out."
Steve sighed, chewing his lower lip until something clicked in his head. "What If I come out?"
Robin blinked, "you- what?"
Steve nodded, "I mean I like both but I could just say I favor guys." He shrugs, "it's not like they could disprove it since it's mostly true."
Robin stared at him, "Steve... since when did you- what? Steve oh my god," She shifted onto her knees and slammed into him. "Since fucking when! Why didn't you ever tell me!"
Steve raised an eyebrow, "what do you mean since when? I literally point out hot guys all the time! When we watched watched Rocky Horror, I said Tim Curry was sexy!"
She shook his shoulders, "you did no such thing! You ask if I also think a guy is hot and you said- oh." It clicks for her and she falls back on her ass. She covers her face, "holy shit."
Steve smirks, "holy shit."
A giggle escapes her lips, "you so have a type."
"Shut up," he groans.
But before they can really dig into it, there's a loud knock on the door. "We're gonna open the door in 5, 4, 3, 2, 1!" The door swings in a Dustin's hand is over his eyes like he's gonna be scarred at the sight of them.
"We're literally just sitting on the floor Henderson. Not having freaky bathroom sex," Steve rolls his eyes and stands, Robin following suit.
Dustin looks upset like he expect his plan to work. "I don't get it." Steve ruffles his hair as he passes the kid. Robin lets out a small laugh as she stretches her limbs like she had been stuck in there for more than just 15 minutes. Steve turns, and she locks eyes with him, a silent question.
"Kid, I've said this a million times, but I'll say it one more time." He glances at the other kids that had either always been there or gotten here at some point since he'd been locked into the bathroom. "Robin and I will never date. She and I have no romantic feelings for each other. And if you pull this shit when we're at work again, I'll kill you."
"It's not like it was hard to figure out how to check someone out," Max shrugged and Steve huffed at her nonchalant grin from behind the counter.
Steve ushers the kids out from behind the counter before taking his normal spot, looking around at the empty store. Robin moves and bumps shoulders with him. "Platonic feelings only." She gestures between them.
Dustin groan, "I just don't get why!"
Steve glances at Robin, "because I'm too gay for her." He states and everyone goes quiet. "Honestly boobies are so high school." He winks at Robin who looks at him like he's bravely stupid.
"Wait but you dated Nancy?" Mike questioned arms over his chest.
Steve rolled his eyes, "so? I am more picky on who I date. Doesn't matter the gender. Robin doesn't tick my boxes."
"But she should!" Dustin complains and Robin groans.
But then Steve sees someone in the windows, heading towards the doors to Family video. "My type is more," and he just gestures just as the door dings to call their attention to the newcomer.
Eddie Munson glances at the kids and then at Steve. "Sheepies," he says. Eyebrows raised in confusion at the eyes on him. Eddie glanced at Steve, "Harrington, you break the kids?" He asks as all the kids continue to stare at him as he moves to the horror section.
Steve waves his hand, like he can brush off the confusion. "Nah, they're just shocked that I'm not completely in love with Birdie over here."
Everyone's jaw is on the floor as Steve leans his arms on the counter, not even bothering to hide the way he checks Eddie out when the man looks away. "Right," Eddie sighs and grabs a movie. "Well, not everyone's type is jocks." Eddie teases slightly, having warmed up to Steve little by little when Steve picks the kids up from Hellfire.
Steve takes the movie from Eddie, giving him his one free movie he gets for the week and hands it back to Eddie without charging him. "I'll win ya over." He winks, and Eddie's eyes go a little wide.
Eyes glanced around like he could ask if anyone else saw that. "Um, well, yeah, how-how much for the-"
"Consider it on me." Steve waved his hand and then leaned more into Eddie's space, "I haven't seen this one yet."
Eddie swallows, "You should check it out. It's, uh, pretty good."
Steve smiles, "I'm shit with horror, maybe if I had someone to hold my hand through it." He sighs overdramatically, then snaps, "Oh, I know! If you're not busy we could watch it together. I mean, it seems like a scary metalhead like yourself would be capable of holding my hand through the jump scares."
Eddie's eyes are blinking rapidly, "it's for the boys." He says, looking lost. Steve frowns, and Eddie jumps into action, "But I could-" He stops himself and groans. "I've got to- plans- fuck-" He stumbles and practically smacks into the door in his rush to leave family video.
Steve sighs and leans his head down on the counter. Robin pats his back, "I miss my whiteboard." She sighs and he looks up to glare at her.
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