#Or rather all the chairs that I want to buy and look at forever since I only have like three chairs in the whole house

[the-busy-ghost]

Upstairs flooring is finally supposed to be finished today but given the Shenanigans which have attended every single attempt at home improvement over the last two months, I don’t want to get my hopes up.

However, I am letting myself browse antique chairs as a treat- not to buy, just because I have a borderline unhealthy obsession with chair design right now

[espinosaurusrexex]

Bad Boys Don't Buy Flowers

CEO!BuckyBarnes x Female!Florist!Reader AU

read Steve's story here

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

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

word count: 16.4k 😬

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

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

"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:

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) 🤗 :

[yayll]

Could you maybe write smth up. About literally spoiling Dazai. Because i want to sit him down on the couch and kiss his pretty fucking face and buy him everything he even glances at.!! Hold his hand on walks, take him to like roooftops to stargaze and stuff and just stare at his PRETTY AHH FACE instead. Kiss his forehead goodnight!!! Cook him stuff and cuddle him and kiss him (again)!!!!....

Im lonely and past the point of no return sorry shdkhdkfjf

HIIII there, angel! i'm so sorry this took me a bit, but umm... i kind of went insane with this concept i read your ask and i immediately just blacked out because oh do i feel the same way about this god forsaken man.. and HEAVY on the spoiling. ahh, i hope it's to your liking, and i hope it makes u feel less lonely :') it was such a pleasure to write my first request xx

~ a little something about cherishing Dazai on days he needs it the most ~

Spoiling Dazai. Now there's something you can proudly admit to being happily guilty of. You couldn't count the times you've held him for hours after a terrible day at work, or made sure he had more than just canned crab and a few bottles of Sake. You'd do anything for him to be comfortable in his own skin, and you want to make sure he knows how much you adore him... that he knows he's allowed to take up space in the world too. You're also aware that he would rather die than to ever elaborate on the vague and dismissive little comments he makes about the debilitating weight of all of his past mistakes, the ones that make him resentful and tired when it really gets to him, but that never deters you.

You've put the pieces together long enough to understand that it's not easy being Osamu Dazai, no matter what silly mask he puts on for the world. He hasn't always been a good person, an exemplary man, and you're more than well aware of that. Still, he doesn't have to be the jester who's always entertaining the masses at his own expense.

You remind him that he isn't cursed forever, that he IS worthy of flesh and blood, and when you kiss him it's like you're absolving him of all sins... you make him new again. He is utterly bewitched by you and you feel it in the way he comes up behind you and rests his chin on your shoulder, squeezing your waist just enough to let you know your warmth is the reason his own blood circulates. Or when he whispers the most silliest and unhinged things in your ear late at night so you'll curl up those precious lips into a smile... Just for him. He gets off on the happiness he gives you, simple as that. He already feels he doesn't deserve to hold on to such a good life, but he's nothing if not defiant, and he'll squeeze out every little bit of love within that void of a heart for as long as you'll have him.

But... Today is your turn to love him so much it actually hurts, It's what he gets for being a menace 24/7! That is why you chose to make sure he has an extra special day today, by bringing him out of his comfort zone with a... mystery date!

"Oh? And to what do I owe the pleasure of being courted by such a beautiful creature such as yourself on this fine day?"

Dazai sips on his tea, eyes narrowing as they peer at you from the teacup curiously. You flash him a cheeky grin, already plotting your mission to make him so flustered he can't even look at you later.

"I thought we could go out somewhere and spend some time outside... Since we've both been so busy lately. Wouldn't that be nice?"

He raises a brow, and gives you a knowing smile back. Dazai's freakishly omnipotent in that way, and it's one of the many reasons you can never truly know if your surprises land or not.

"Mmm, it could be. Where to, my love?"

"... It's a secret."

He then pretends something has hit his chest, and he grips it, dramatically throwing himself back onto the chair causing his tea to flop about in the teacup.

"Oh my, is today the day you finally take me out and end it all?! I don't know if I can take the deceit, the absolute betrayal... What an occasion-"

You cut him off with your index finger as you place it right on his lips, zipped tight and his eyes burn into you, waiting for your next words. He eats this shit up.

"Shush! Let's go."

And with that, you grab your coats and zoom out and into the day. It's one of those days where It's cloudy, but the sun still peaks out just enough to send down warm rays of light. As you walk hand in hand, you see the way those very rays hit Dazai's side profile in the most devastating way.

You want to take a photo but you don't want to ruin the moment, so you quickly tip toe and peck him on the cheek, causing him to abruptly stop in his tracks. He blinks for a few seconds, still facing forward, and you swear you can see the highs of his cheeks turn red. You end up tugging him to follow you to the park, smiling to yourself in triumph as he recovers.

You walk to a quiet part, and plop yourselves down next to each other on the soft grass. Still holding hands, you rub your thumb in circles over his bandaged fingers, silently looking up at the cloudy sky. Finally, Dazai is the one to break the silence.

"Love used to always be an empty four letter word to me, but you..."

He pauses for a moment, swallowing hard as he tries to feign composure.

"... You are, by far, my greatest love, and my most beloved weakness altogether."

You were supposed to be the one to sweep him off his feet today, now your vision is blurry and you can hear your heartbeat in your ears. You slowly sit up, and look down at him, noticing that his eyes are closed. He looks like a sleeping beauty. Your chest aches, and you wonder if this is the same type of ache he lives with on the daily. You murmur, studying the way his messy bangs frame his face, and his expression unreadable.

"That's not fair, Osamu..."

"You sound so pretty when you say it like that... Osamu."

You swallow hard, and curse him in your mind for being the man that he is. For being all you've ever yearned for. You look down at your watch, and check the time, heart beating wildly.

Thump, Thump, Thump.

"... It's fifteen till 5."

"Mm, why does that matter?" Dazai purrs as he squeezes your hand, eyes still closed.

"It always matters. Any time with you matters. You matter, Osamu."

You spend the rest of the evening nuzzled into one another, whispering secrets and trying to name constellations and giggling when you can't figure them out. He lets you kiss him silly, his eyes closed the entire time while you also toy with his hair and the nape of his neck; where you smooth over the soft fabric of his bandages and his skin, giving him goosebumps. Your touch is a sensory heaven. He's dreaming of you while awake. You'll always wake him up from the nightmares, from what cannot be undone.

When it gets too cold to stay out, you head back home and cook him whatever he asks for as he rests his chin on his palm, gazing at you with those unreadable dark eyes... always thinking too much. Always somewhere else. This time, however, you could tell he was present. He would eat sewage if you poured it for him with that loving manner of yours. You finally crawl into bed together, and Dazai cradles your face in between his hands, facing you. He mumbles, so soft.. so tender. It's a tone only you get to hear.

"It really is selfish of me to think I can have this and more."

"Desire isn't bad, Osamu."

"Mm, no, I suppose not. But it's not always wise to have desire, not for someone like me. I can't afford that."

You hear the genuine ache in his voice, and you lean in to kiss his forehead, a gentle kiss that stays planted for a few seconds before you pull back.

"Do you have any idea what you're doing, love?~" He whispers, his voice a little strained as he looks at you with those eyes, those beautiful and endless orbs of cosmic proportions that are going to consume you one day. Hopefully.

"I think so. I'm being selfish."

You smile faintly, and you proceed to make sure that you end the night the way he deserves, the way you wanted to spoil him.

[lucrativesoul]

i love soft husband leon. who doesn't? what about soft leon who loves that you are a bookworm and dedicates himself to being your biggest fan? i am on board for this.

Ever since you had met, Leon knew how much of a reader you were. So much so, that before anything serious had even transpired between you two, he vowed to be the reason for your eventually massive book collection.

He had never said it out loud, but he loved your dedication to your reading space and how you cared for your growing library. You treated it like an entity, and he couldn’t help but always admire your effort that you put into it. He never thought that he was a second choice to your affection, rather, he preferred seeing you in the state of caring for your passion. It only made him fall more.

Every anniversary, birthday, holiday that required gifts possible, he was buying you a book or something to put in the room. Leon was always paying attention to what you say you need to add, or what you want to read, or something that would make the room look brighter.

Some of his favorite moments with you are the silent nights where he was sitting at one end of the couch, either on his phone or mirroring you and (giving it his best attempt) reading, and you were always right next to him with your own book. If you were close enough to the table, a mug with that night’s choice of drink not far from your reach, and one body part always in contact with him. The peace of the air calmed him after a day at work, or when something insignificant in his life went wrong, and even just looking over at you in your blissful state was enough to soothe him.

Leon, truthfully, loved nothing more than seeing you absorbed in your own worlds. Before he had met you, he thought it impossible that he could live a life where he even had a few moments of a quiet mind. He had no idea that one person could flip that all on its head. You became that for him. And when you are in your own little world, happy as can be (or sad, Leon has seen your many moods with the books you choose), he is reminded of the day that altered his life path forever.

Leon shows up with random plants sometimes. Nothing compliments a warm library space like a good plant, and eventually you had to tell him to slow down, as you were running out of room. (That really wasn’t true, you had a whole shelf and the both of you knew it. You would happily fill it with any plant he brought in, but he stayed conscious to keep it open in order to leave space for all the books he was planning on giving you).

Coming home from work, if you weren’t in the kitchen pouring yourself another mug of whatever it was that you chose for the night, you were in your reading room. The huge chair (that Leon supplied) held you snuggly against the thick knit blanket (from Leon) with your signature mug placed on the side table (...Leon) was exactly how he liked to find you. As much as it pained him to interrupt your reading, he always comes in to greet you, heart lightening at your expression at seeing him home, even if it was in the middle of a sentence.

Basically, Leon knew he made the right choice in choosing you to marry. He thought it would never happen to find someone who was his light even when you weren't paying attention to him. Just the mere sight of you had his heart racing. His safe space was with you, and with you always came the books and the comfort, so for the rest of his life, he knew he was bound to think of you every time he looked at a leather bound hardcover, already being able to picture you flipping through it.

a/n: i'm sorry for being silent! as i said before, the semester is in swing and i only have a month left now! i'm still thinking up ideas for my next full length, but i have not disappeared yet. please check out my others in the meantime if you haven’t already, and i will continue to work hard to make sure i deliver to my utmost quality. thank you for reading <3

[bookshelf-dust]

a camaro and a tree.

billy hargrove x gn!reader

word count: 2,764

warnings: swearing, innuendos/billy being a flirty asshole aka being himself, mentions of neil, fluffy/lovey shit

a/n: hii :)) happy holidays! i hope that you’re enjoying whatever you celebrate, and if you don’t celebrate anything, i hope you are enjoying life in general. i’d been tossing this idea around and around in my head for forever, and i finally wrote it! i really hope you enjoy it. billy and readers first christmas while living together? yes, yes i think so. i love you all! <333

————

“You know, there’s a whole ass couch that you could be spread out on in any way you please, Hargrove. I’m not entirely sure why you must splay yourself out on me.”

Billy shook the bag of Skittles in his hand around, presumably looking for the red ones. Those were his favorites, and he insisted they were better than all the rest, though you were adamant that a random handful of them was just as good—no need to be picky.

Billy crossed his legs at the ankles in response to your statement.

The both of you were sat on the sofa in your living room. It had started out with you curled up on one side, but the moment you stretched your legs out to settle on the coffee table, Billy had appeared. It was like he had a Spidey-sense.

And now he was on the other end, legs stretched out over top of your own. This is after he’d lifted the blanket from you to tuck his legs in with yours. Only he had shorts on, so now the warm skin of his calves was stuck to that of your thighs.

Billy was continually sinking further into the couch, and now snatching a pillow out from under your ass to put behind his back.

You rolled your eyes at his continued use of your space. He was surely making himself comfortable.

“You’re like a fucking house cat, you know that?”

Billy let out a breath of a laugh, eyes now on the television.

Maybe it wasn’t very “adult” of you to watch Full House during your free time, but Uncle Jessie had good hair (you seemingly had a type), and Stephanie had an excellent sense of humor.

It was more of a surprise that Billy put up with it at all, since he wasn’t keen on Growing Pains, and liked to stubbornly pretend he didn’t enjoy The Golden Girls. But he laughed at both Dorothy and Uncle Joey, no matter how many times he’d try to deny it.

He also requested you fill him in any time he missed an episode because he was home late from work.

You snuck your hand under the blanket to rub up and down Billy’s leg, fingers tracing from below his knee and across his thigh. He hummed his appreciation.

Eyes wandering from the tv, this being an episode you’d already seen, you realized how empty your living room looked.

Now maybe that was partially because the both of you did not have an abundance of furniture—a couch, a table, a stray oversized chair—but also because it was those slow few days before December began and you didn’t have a tree up.

This was the first Christmas that Billy and you would be spending in your shared little apartment, and you were rather excited about it.

Christmas hadn’t always been peaceful at home, for either of you, people being picky or whiny or just assholes in general.

But living with Billy made you feel whole. You felt safe with him, and he you.

It was just that this time, Christmas was up to you. You could do whatever you wanted and cook your favorites, or maybe not even at all. You could decorate however you pleased.

You turned to Billy, watched as he lifted his arm, pulling the chain on the floor lamp next to him, muscles shifting under the yellow light.

“When do you want to get a Christmas tree?”

He set his Skittles down, pulled his legs out from under your blanket. He propped his head up against the back of the couch with his arm, looking dreamily at you.

“You mean like buy one? I don’t imagine picking out a boxed tree is gonna be that hard.”

You sat up. “Ha! Oh no, baby, we are not getting a fake tree.”

You watched his brow furrow. “I’m pretty sure we dragged the same shit tree, box and all, from California to Indiana. Neil Hargrove was not keen on the idea of having to take care of a me, let alone a tree.”

You grimaced, and he continued. “You want to pick out a real one?” He tracked the movement of your head, your excited nod. “I’ve never done that before.”

You sat up on your knees. “It’s fun! We did it every year. Sometimes we’d pick one that was too tall and we could barely get the star on. I guess I thought we’d get to pick one out too. But if you’d rather an artificial one, that’s fine Billy.”

His hands found your face, callouses rubbing at your cheeks.

“No, sugar, a real one is fine. I assume you know where the hell we go?”

————

It took some driving around, but eventually you wound up at Merrill’s, wandering through the lanes of pines with all the other families and too loud children.

Billy walked behind you, hands stuffed in the pockets of your coat. Not only did you have little hand warmer packets, but Billy had yet to get a good pair of gloves.

He had finally relented and started wearing layers when it snowed, though that did not mean he’d done it without pouting.

So now, as the both of you sidestepped a stray toddler barreling through the thin layer of powder on the grass, the only bit of him that wasn’t actually warm were his hands.

You walked him to the shorter section of trees, thinking about how small your home actually was.

“What do you think about this one?”

You reached through the branches to grab hold of the the trunk, pulling it out and spinning it around to check all the sides.

“Stand next to it,” you told him.

“Sorry?” he questioned, obviously confused.

“You’re my size reference. Don’t,” you raised a hand, stopping him because he’d already opened his mouth, “make a dick joke. You can touch the ceilings when you raise your hands, so this is my measuring, okay?”

“Yes ma’am.”

Billy gave you a two finger salute and moved next to the tree, it being just about the same height as he was. “Good?” He raised his eyebrows in question.

“Yep.” You heaved the tree back into its place, glancing at the aisle number before meandering through to look at a couple more.

Most of them were too tall, and because of that, too expensive. Even some of the shorter ones would’ve cost a pretty penny because of how nice they were: perfect shape, a dark, rich green, branches thick with needles.

“I think I liked that first one best, baby.” Billy’s breath was warm against your neck where he’d leaned over your shoulder to speak, what with a family of six standing right next to you, chatting exuberantly.

“I was thinking the same thing, Mr. Hargrove.”

You grabbed hold of his belt loops, tugging him along with you in search of your first tree.

Luckily, it was still there, and you made sure to put your hands on it, because there was a frightening looking woman eyeing it from across the way.

You hugged the tree, which brought out that sweet sweet laugh of Billy’s. “Let’s get this one then, huh?”

You nodded before pulling away, realizing you now had tree sap in your hair, not to mention an abundance of needles that you’d probably still be brushing out later.

Billy retrieved a cart to set the tree on, and you watched him lift with ease, wishing that was you he’d thrown over his shoulder.

“You’re staring.”

You pushed the cart towards the tree-trimmer, ignoring his statement.

Billy’s hands snuck up to the back of your neck, and then he was tickling you, cold fingertips dancing across your skin.

“Ignoring me now?” His voice was gravelly from the chill in the air, throat gone dry.

“Never. But I think the staring is allowed when we live together. You’re much too pretty for me.”

“I am gorgeous, aren’t I?”

You rolled your eyes at him, knowing you’d set yourself up for that one, and he planted a chilly kiss to your temple.

————

The drive home was short, but slightly terrifying. The Camaro was not built for having a tree tied to the top of it, and you were fidgety the whole trip.

Billy glanced your way before he pulled into the driveway. “You doubt my rope-tying skills, Y/N? Frankly, I’m offended.”

You opened your door before he could, which only spurred him on.

Billy pulled a pocket knife out from the glove compartment, flicking the blade open and cutting the ropes on your side of the car.

“I think we both know I excel at tying things up.”

“Billy,” you groaned his name, holding onto the tree so it wouldn’t slip while he cut the other side.

You could hear him laughing to himself, clearly enjoying his ability to fluster you.

The both of you slid the tree off the roof of Billy’s car, and he tossed you the keys.

You ran up the few stairs, unlocking the door and propping it open before going back to help him bring it inside.

While you were halfway through the door and feeling brave, you spoke. “You better behave yourself or we’re gonna find out how good my rope-tying skills are, Hargrove.”

You set the tree down, flying back out the door to get the stand out of the car before he could say anything.

Upon your return, Billy grabbed you by the waist, pinning you against the freshly closed front door.

“That’s not really threatening when you know I’d let you do whatever you wanted.”

You could feel yourself burning, and you tried to bury your face in his chest, but he caught your chin, quickly pressing his lips to yours.

When he pulled away his lips were that devastating shade of pink, and he was looking at you like you were everything in the world and more.

“Don’t go all shy on me now,” he propped his arm against the wall above your head, “now that we live together and whatnot.”

You grinned at him, and he kissed you silly for it.

————

It took a few days, but the tree had been successfully watered and kept alive, though it was still bare of any ornaments.

The lights had been easy to choose at Melvald’s, and Joyce had helped you pick out some she liked to put outside too.

So, gradually, both Billy and you had been bringing home a menagerie of bulbs and things for the tree, determined to make it your own and not have some shop-window-looking thing in your home.

One afternoon Billy gets off work early, but comes home to find you out and about, having left a note on the counter for him.

When you do come home, he’s in pajama bottoms and an old shirt, staring into the fridge like something’s going to hop out and prepare itself for him.

His face lights up when you emerge into the kitchen, arms immediately reaching for you, but you stop him with a raised hand. He practically frowns.

“I got you a prize, Billy baby.”

He propped his head up, hand under chin. “A prize?”

You nodded, wrestling with the bag on your hip, finally pulling something free.

“Hold out your hands.”

You plopped a small ornament into his hands. Specially a square one that looked like a vinyl sleeve, the tip of the record itself sticking out the side.

The sleeve was black and red, tiny writing across the top that said Metallica. It looked like the Kill ‘Em All album.

Billy looked up at you, eyes glossy. “Where’d you find this?”

“At the record store. They had a big tree with assorted ornaments for popular bands on it, I thought you’d like it. Do you?”

You watched as Billy flipped the ornament over in his hands, ran his thumb over the edge of the little black record, the top of the sleeve.

“‘Course I fuckin’ like it, baby.” He was giving you that prize-winning and swoon-worthy smile. The one you tried to tell yourself didn’t work on you. But that would just be a lie.

He scooped you up in his arms, squeezing you tight, lifting you just enough that your feet left the floor.

“The guy at the counter gave me a discount since we come in so often. Got myself one too.”

Billy set you down, walking to the living room to find a spot on the tree for his prize.

“I don’t get to see that one too?”

“Well yeah, sure. I was just excited about yours.” He watched you reach down in your bag for the other ornament you were supposedly housing. Sometimes with the way you searched for things in there, Billy thought you might as well be Mary Poppins.

You pulled out a simple gold ball that had the Queen logo on it in a black glossy film.

“That’s cute. Can I put it on?”

You nodded your assurance, watched dreamily as he put in on the tree.

Part of you couldn’t help but picture a smaller, much younger version of Billy doing the very same thing. Maybe with his mother.

“What’re you thinkin’ about, hon?” Billy’s voice broke you out of your stupor.

“You. What Christmas might’ve been like for you when you were younger. I was gonna ask if you even like it at all or if you’re just doing this for me.”

Billy continued to decorate the tree, opening a pack of Scooby-Doo ornaments that he’d found the other day—all five of them and a small Mystery Machine.

“Hold out your hands.”

You did, and Billy placed the ornaments along your palms so he could slip hooks in them.

“I do like Christmas,” he started, put Velma on the tree. “It was just always an ordeal, you know? First with my mom and Neil and then Susan. What we were gonna eat, if we had the money for presents at all, if I deserved anything.”

Shaggy and Scooby went up. Then Fred.

“It was just miserable, I guess. Everything was always such a big fuckin’ deal. But I don’t know, I guess I liked the atmosphere, or some shit? I guess the world feels a little more calm this time of year, though I know it’s not.”

Daphne. The Mystery Machine.

“And when we were in California and had to go see the little bit of extended family that we had, it was always ‘Billy you better behave,’ or ‘Don’t be an disrespectful,’ or anything that made sure I wasn’t going to fuck things up.”

“So I don’t think I ever had a chance to enjoy it. Not until you.”

He was silent for a minute plugging the lights in on the tree. “I better not turn around to see you giving me those watery eyes.”

He spun around, locking eyes with you. “No dice, huh?”

You shook your head. “Can I have a hug?”

Billy didn’t respond, but scooped you up his arms anyways. “You can have a hug whenever you want, baby.” He pressed a warm kiss to your forehead.

Billy’s hugs were all-consuming, the kind where there isn’t anything else in the world except for him. He tucks his cheek against your temple, wraps one arm around your shoulders and the other your back, hands rubbing all over, running down places they shouldn’t.

“So you liked your ornament, really?” Your voice was muffled where you face nuzzled his neck, metal chain warm on your nose.

“Yes. I love it.” His hands found your face, pulling you up from the safety of his chest.

“I love you, you know. And I meant what I said about enjoying this with you. Because I am.”

You pushed your hands under his shirt, the fabric coming with it because of how your arms were raised, trying to leech the heat from him.

“Kiss?” Billy was using that sultry tone, the one that made his words all slow. The one he used to butter you up.

“You can have a kiss whenever you want, baby.” He rolled his eyes at your mimicking of his earlier words.

You planted your lips firmly against his, enough that he sighed into it, breath warm on your face. You kissed him once, twice, three times before you pulled away, looking up at him, his lashes kissing at the corners, frown lines forming because you’d let up.

“I love you too, you know,” you told him, and his mouth was back on yours within the second.

————

please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33

[nicoline1998enilocin]

Flufftober Day 23 | A beautiful collection

Pairing | Boyfriend!Ari Levinson x Girlfriend!Female!Reader

Word count | ~ 840 words

Summary | Every time you and Ari visit a new place together during a vacation, you two search for the silliest magnet to add to your growing collection. Usually, you're the one who bring them home, but this time, Ari has found a rather special one that you want to keep forever.

Warning(s) | None.

Prompt(s) | 23. Trinket | @flufftober

A/n | This one shot is written for day 23 of my Flufftober 2023 Challenge. I'm a huge fan of collecting silly magnets, so this is a nice and self-indulgent fic for once! I hope you will enjoy it just as much as I did when writing it 🖤

Likes, comments and reblogs will be very much appreciated 🧡

Divider is made by @cafekitsune | GIF credit to the owner

Main Masterlist | Ari Levinson Masterlist | Flufftober Masterlist

You have loved collecting magnets ever since you could walk, and you always find the silliest, most special ones in every city and country you visit.

Your fridge is nearly filled with magnets from all over the world, either collected by yourself or with your boyfriend, Ari. Since you two started dating a little over four years ago, your collection has grown exponentially, and today, you will add one more: a special one, this time.

''Peach? Can you c'mere for a second?'' Ari says as he emerges from the kitchen and wanders into the living room. He sits in the big armchair he usually occupies, and you come to straddle his thick, broad thighs that you love so much.

''What's up, Buttercup?'' you say in a cheery voice, and Ari can't fight back the grin on his face as he shakes his head.

'''S a good thing I love you,'' he murmurs before mentioning what he wanted to tell you.

''I have something for you, Peach. And I want you to bring it with you on our upcoming vacation,'' he says as he grabs a small, square box from the table beside the chair, giving it to you.

''Can I open it now, or do I have to wait until we're there?'' you ask him, your curiosity already taking over. He nods, and you open the box, pulling out a magnet of the opera house in Syndey, Australia.

''Did you plan this trip without me, Ari?'' you say with a slight pout, which he swiftly kisses away. He wants this vacation to be memorable, and he has his reasons for doing it this way.

''I did, but I have my reasons for it. I won't tell them to you now, because you will find out when we're there. Before we do, you can get your nails and hair done and buy a brand-new outfit for dinner. You can do all that with my card because I want to treat my girl this time,'' he says, and your eyebrows shoot up to your hairline.

''A-Are you sure? That will be expensive on top of the vacation...'' you say as your voice lowers slightly in volume. Growing up, you've never had much money, so you're still not quite used to letting Ari spoil you like this occasionally.

''I'm sure, Peach. You deserve to be treated like the Queen you are,'' he says, and you put the magnet to the side before wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him in for a deep kiss.

The week before your vacation, you get your hair done and your nails painted in a purple design. That same day, you also pick out a black and white maxi dress and white gladiator sandals to finish the look.

A week later, you find yourself in a beautiful restaurant looking out over the Opera House, the magnet sitting securely in the bag you brought.

You are in your white outfit, and Ari is also decked out in a light outfit. This vacation was nothing short of perfect the last few days, but this night will change everything.

You didn't pick out a white dress for nothing; you had a hunch of what would happen tonight. You wanted to give him a taste of what it would look like. You dressed in white, and when you showed Ari the dress earlier this evening, you didn't miss the little sparkle in his eyes.

It was almost time to order dessert, but before you could pick up the menu that displayed all the delicious, decadent desserts, Ari cleared his throat slightly, his hand stretched out so you could lay yours in his.

''Peach, I knew you were special from the moment I met you. You're kind, you're funny, you're beautiful. You're everything I've ever wanted in a partner and more. I love spending time with you and can't imagine my life without you. I promise to make you laugh, always be there for you when you need me, and never take you for granted. I promise to love and cherish you for the rest of our lives.''

As he's telling you all this, you know your hunch was correct, and when Ari stands up while motioning you to get up as well, you can't help but let a little sniffle escape.

''You are the most special person in my life, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me?" he asks, popping open a small black velvet box with a silver engagement ring.

''Oh my god, Ari! Yeah, yes, I'll marry you!'' you exclaim, and Ari stands to his full height before putting the ring on your finger and kissing you passionately.

People around you applaud, and as soon as you two finally let go of one another, you hear congratulations from all over the restaurant.

Suddenly, the magnet Ari bought you made sense. It was a clue; from now on, it would be the perfect addition to your beautiful collection of fridge magnets.

[cordonianroyalairlines]

All I Want for Christmas Part 2

Series: Cordonian Royal Airlines

Fandom: The Royal Romance

Pairings for series: Various

Pairing for this chapter: Riley x Drake, Liam x Max

Word Count: 2,848

Rating: General

Warnings for this chapter: none

Submissions: @choicesprompts rewrite challenge, holiday edition TRR x Untamed Heart (one of my all-time favorite movies). @choicesficwriterscreations holiday prompt: Stuck together in the snow; @choicesdecember2023 Christmas and @choicesholidays: This is the worst/best Christmas ever.

A/N: So the end of this is based very loosely on a scene from Untamed Heart. I looked for a clip of the scene in question but couldn't find one. You'll have to trust me that this is one of the most underrated movies of all time. If you've never seen it, you should look it up and watch it.

“Hey, you okay?”

“What?” Riley glanced up in surprise, wiping the wetness from her face with the palm of her hand, “I’m fine.”

“Hm.” Drake grunted as he pulled out a chair and sat down without waiting for an invitation. “You don’t look fine.”

She tried to laugh and cry at the same time and the sound came out as a little hiccup, “Sorry, it’s just Christmas Eve, you know?”

“Yeah….” He said carefully, reluctant to reveal that he didn’t know, not really. He had a mother and a sister, but he wasn’t close to either one. “So, you had plans, I take it?”

“Of course! Every year we all go to my parents’ house for Christmas. My brother Ryder and his wife and kids, my sister Amelia and her fiancé, and my brother Jory will be home from school, and this is Declan’s last year at home before he goes off to university…. I’ll be the only one not there this year….”

“So, you’re close to your siblings?” He set the bottle and glass on the table between them and gestured toward it. “Drink?”

She shook her head. “No thanks. And yes, I’m very close to my siblings and my parents.”

“Would you like something else? I’ll buy you a drink. You can tell me about your siblings.”

“I wouldn’t say no to an amaretto sour…”

An hour later, she looked up to find him smiling at her softly. She flushed as she realized she had been dominating the conversation. “I’m so sorry! I’m just rambling on and on about myself and my family! Tell me about yours!”

“Nah,” he waved her off, “There’s not much to tell. I’d rather hear about yours. Your brother Jory sounds hilarious. Declan should definitely dump that guy, and I agree with Max about your sister. It sounds like she takes your love and support for granted.”

“Max and Amelia have never gotten along,” Riley said with a sigh.

“You’ve known Max for a long time, huh?”

“Since we were teenagers. He’s the one that talked me into becoming a flight attendant and got me this job.”

“You didn’t want to be a flight attendant?”

She shrugged as she pulled her drink closer to her and toyed with the rim, “I was deep in my I don’t know what I want to be when I grow up phase.”

“And now?”

“I like it. I don’t know if it’s what I want to do forever, but it’s really fun for right now. I have no complaints.”

The tension that had set in his back and shoulders at the thought of her quitting eased out of him as he relaxed back into his chair. “As airline jobs go, this is about as good as it gets.”

“You’re not wrong.” Not only did the private airline pay better than commercial airlines, but there were many perks from more flexible schedules to stipends for living expenses while traveling and generous bonuses. But the biggest benefit was getting to work with her best friend. All in all, she really couldn’t complain. “Thanks, Drake.”

“For what?”

“Taking the time to sit here and cheer me up. You didn’t have to do that. I’m sure you have plenty of things you’d rather be doing than listening to me go on and on about my family.”

He scoffed as he looked away from her and lifted his glass to his mouth. “I really don’t.” He was estranged from his family, single, and his only real friend was Liam. All of which was usually fine with him. He preferred it that way honestly, seeing himself as a lone wolf. Community and togetherness were overrated. He needed very little to be happy.

Something about this girl made him want more, though, and the feeling unsettled him.

“Well, at any rate, thank you,” she yawned, “but I should probably get back up to my room.”

“Oh, yeah, sure,” he glanced at his watch as he stumbled to his feet, “Me too. I’ll walk you up.”

The look she gave him sent butterflies exploding through his chest and he quickly clarified, “For safety, you know.”

“Right,” she nodded in agreement, but the smile that played across her lips said she understood exactly what was going on between them.

Good thing one of them did.

Entering the elevator, he reached out and pressed the button for the twelfth floor. He turned his head to find her giving him a measuring look. “What?”

“I didn’t tell you what floor I was on. How did you know?”

His eyes widened as he stared at her like a deer caught in the headlights. He had never felt so much panic surge through his body at one time and he had flown into combat zones before leaving the military for the private sector. His scotch-laden brain struggled to come up with a response that didn’t include telling her he had asked Liam what floor she was staying on. “Max must have mentioned it.” He mumbled.

“When did you talk to Max?”

He was saved from answering when her phone vibrated, and she quickly answered a text from one of her brothers. He heaved out a sigh of relief and changed the subject. “So, what do you like best about Christmas other than your family? The presents?”

“No,” she laughed, “The tree and decorations. There’s just something so peaceful about the lights and ornaments. Waking up to my mom’s ham and cheese omelets for Christmas breakfast. Oh, and I love the music!”

“Yeah? What’s your favorite Christmas song?”

“Jingle Bell Rock,” she replied without hesitation. “I know it’s not the most popular, or sentimental, but I love the beat and I love horses, so there you go. What’s yours?”

“Mine? Oh, no, I don’t have-“

“Come on, Drake, you have to have a favorite Christmas song!”

“Okay, okay, if you put a gun to my head then I guess I’d say it’s Do They Know It’s Christmas.”

Her mouth fell open. “Really?”

“Yeah, really, why is that surprising?”

“I don’t know. I figured you for a Rocking Around the Christmas Tree kind of guy. Why is Do They Know It’s Christmas your favorite?”

“I don’t know,” he jostled his body weight from foot to foot as he silently willed the elevator to hurry the fuck up, “I think it’s the juxtaposition of mindless consumerism with the destitution of impoverished peoples. It makes you think. Or it should.”

“Wow, Drake. You have hidden depths. I knew it!”

He arched an eyebrow at her. “You think about my depths?”

It was Riley’s turn to flush as she spun her body back to face the doors just as they dinged open. “Well, here we are!”

He saw her safely to her door in a silence that suddenly felt comfortable and right, as if him walking her to her door was a normal, everyday occurrence.

She opened the door and looked back over her shoulder, “Thank you again….for everything.”

“I should be thanking you for saving me from drinking alone. See you tomorrow, Riley.”

“See you tomorrow, Drake. Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas,” he said as her door closed.

He stood outside her door for a long moment as he talked himself out of knocking on it and asking her to let him in.

Relationships with co-workers never ended well. He would know.

He turned and started trudging back down the hallway toward the elevator when he was seized by a sudden inspiration. Whipping his phone from his pocket, his fingers flew over the keyboard as his pace quickened and he hurried briskly back to his room, a smile of anticipation curving up his lips.

***

The next morning, Riely rolled out of bed and pulled the curtains open to see the area blanketed in freshly fallen snow, but it was all on the ground. Nothing fell from the clear blue sky.

With a squeal of joy, she bounced back to the bed to grab her phone from the nightstand, preparing to call Liam and ask if they had a takeoff time and then Max to find out how things had gone with Liam the night before, but before she could dial either number, it vibrated in her hand. She glanced down to see a text message in the group chat Liam had created yesterday when he invited everyone to dinner. It was from Drake.

Meet me in the Mountain Vista conference room.

That was odd, but okay. She quickly dressed and hurried out into the hallway, bumping into Max as she did so. “Were you waiting outside my door?”

“I was about to knock! I guess you got the text from Drake?”

“Yeah, but it’s weird, right? I mean, his entire contribution to the group chat yesterday was the word okay. And not even the whole word, just the two letters O.K.”

“I don’t know, but I hope it involves food! Come on, let’s go!”

When they arrived at the lower-level conference room, Max pulled the door open, and Riley walked into a stunning surprise.

Christmas finery draped the entire room. A six-foot tree adorned the center of the raised stage at the front of the room, fully decorated, complete with an angel on top. There were gift-wrapped packages under the tree. Christmas music spilled out of the speakers and a buffet table lined the far wall. She turned in circles, taking in the decorations everywhere, her mouth agape, “What is all this?”

“Uh…” Drake rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “Nothing. I mean it is Christmas! Just thought you- um, just thought everyone could use a little Christmas cheer this morning.”

“You did all this?”

“Yeah…”

“Drake, it’s amazing! But why? Don’t get me wrong, I’m not complaining at all, but there’s a Christmas tree in the lobby.”

“I know, but that’s just a generic hotel tree for everybody. I thought you deserved something a little more personal.”

She stared up at him with wide eyes. “You did all this for me?”

“I mean….for all of us,” he declared hurriedly, turning away so she wouldn’t see the red coloring his cheeks. “I even managed gifts.” He plucked a package out from under the tree and held it out to her. “Don’t get too excited, they’re just t-shirts from the hotel gift shop. I got one for each of us.”

Riley watched as Drake tossed one to Liam, who had entered the room just behind them, and then Max. He kept the last one for himself. “Hope they fit.”

“How the hell did you accomplish all this?” A tinge of awe colored Liam’s voice.

Drake lifted his shoulder. “I just made a few phone calls and had things delivered.”

“They delivered all this in a snowstorm?” Max gaped at him.

“Well, the blizzard is over,” Drake scoffed, gesturing out the plate-glass windows along the side of the room. “This is just a lot of snow.”

“Ah, you missed your family today, too!” Riley gave him a sympathetic smile.

“Yeah.” Drake agreed as he turned his head to avoid the sharp look Liam gave him. “We should eat while this is still hot.”

“Ohhhh,” Max rubbed his hands together, “Good idea! It smells delicious!”

Drake followed behind Riley and Max toward the food. Liam sidled up next to him and lowered his voice so no one else could hear, “You never spend Christmas with your family.”

“What? Yeah, no, that’s….. you like waffles, right? Because I ordered waffles.”

“Oh, my god!” Riley exclaimed, “Ham and cheese omelets!”

“And bacon,” Max pointed out. “Don’t forget the bacon. Oh! And crepes!”

Her gaze slid thoughtfully to Drake as Max loaded his plate. “Did you order this because of what I told you last night?”

“Order what?” Drake shook his head as he reached for a plate. “I just asked for food. Lucky coincidence.”

“Okay.” She gave him an appraising look. He avoided direct eye contact with her.

The group sat down at a table near the center of the room and enjoyed breakfast together. Riley bit into a forkful of fluffy eggs, melted cheese, savory ham, and crisp onions as she took in the comforting twinkle of Christmas lights reflecting off red and gold ornaments. Max was already wearing the shirt Drake had given him and a Santa hat that he had produced from seemingly nowhere. All of it was set against the backdrop of sheer whiteness that could be seen through the conference room windows. Every ice-covered tree, bush and light post sparkled in the bright morning sun. A sense of peace and contentment that she hadn’t expected to feel on this particular morning settled over her as the group ate and laughed together.

Her phone rang. “It’s my mom!” she answered and after several tearful exchanges of I love you, I miss you and Merry Christmas, she addressed the group, “My mom wants to say hi to everyone.” She placed the phone in the middle of the table and pushed the speaker button so Catherine Brooks could wish the entire flight crew a Merry Christmas. “And especially you, Drake!” she gushed. “Riley told me about the tree and decorations. Thank you for making the day special for her. You’re a good friend.”

“I’m glad she liked it. I just thought we could all use a pick me up since everyone is missing the day with their family,” he lied. The truth was, he couldn’t stand to see her sad. The smile that had washed over her face and stayed there since she had first walked into the conference room made every bit of effort and expense he had gone to more than worth it.

Not that he was interested in her. He didn’t get involved with co-workers.

“Well, nevertheless, thank you and if you’re ever in our neck of the woods, we would love to meet you!”

“Ah…sure, that would be…all right…”

Drake was rescued by Max, who leaned over the phone to yell “I love you!” and “Merry Christmas!” at Riley’s family.

When every member of the Brooks family had spoken to both Riley and Max and the call was finally over, Liam looked up from his own phone and announced, “Great news…we can fly out now!”

“I almost don’t want to.” Max blurted out and then flushed from the tip of his nose all the way down to his toes. “I mean….I just meant this is nice, and it’s warm in here….”

“It’s okay, Max,” Liam grinned at him, “This has been nice, but we do need to get back home. If we don’t make it back today, we’ll have to reschedule tomorrow’s flight, and then I’ll have to deal with Madeleine and her bullshit.”

Drake shuddered. “Why the fuck did Leo give her part ownership again?”

“He didn’t give it to her,” Liam shook his head as he returned his phone to his pocket, “the judge in their divorce did.”

“Still. She acts like her twenty-five percent is controlling interest or something.”

“Tell me about it.” Liam was not overly fond of his ex-sister-in-law, but he couldn’t deny that she was skilled with the parts of the business he disliked, such as accounting and marketing. He just wanted to fly; and Madeleine taking over those parts, had allowed him to do exactly that.

“Well, I guess we should all go pack then,” Max headed toward the door, “You coming, Riley?”

“In a minute. You go on. And you’re still coming home with me today, right?”

“Bert won’t be home until tomorrow, so yes.”

Liam hurried across the room. “Hold on, Max, I’ll walk up with you!”

Riley and Drake watched them leave, then turned to each other. They stood silent and unmoving for a long moment in the middle of the Christmas finery, eyes searching eyes, unspoken emotions playing across both faces.

She took a step forward, “Drake…”

He caught her hand in his as she reached out for him. “Riley…we can’t…”

“And yet you did all this.”

“I’m sorry. It’s not you. It’s me.” He brought her hand to his lips and kissed the back of her fingers, then quickly dropped it. “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, Drake, and thank you. Really. It means a lot to me.” She leaned in, went up on her tiptoes and placed a soft kiss on his cheek before whispering in his ear, “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone that you’re a gooey, mushy marshmallow on the inside. Your reputation is safe.”

A short laugh escaped him as she stepped away. He watched her walk to the door with a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach that was at odds with the soaring feeling in his chest.

She liked him, right?

Not that it mattered. It was a bad idea to get involved with a co-worker.

As she slipped out the door, panic sliced through his being as he realized that he was involved.

He was very involved.

He heaved a sigh that was full of both resignation and wonder as he made his way back to his room to pack.

[yuusishi]

Rook and Malleus Taking Care of Drunk!S/O

➽ pairings: Malleus Draconia x gn!reader , Rook Hunt x gn!reader

➽ genre: fluff

➽ cws/tws: alcohol (obv) , reader’s drinking , mentions of partying

➽ a/n: making this cuz I met with friends today and one of them made my sister (an adult) buy us Soju (a Korean alcohol) and we did shots 😭😭 I ended up doing 3 so he would give me 100 pesos

It was the after graduation party for the seniors of Night Raven College, it was loud and organized by the students, therefore alcohol is a must in such an event.

You and your boyfriend went from the dance floor to random places in the large auditorium to a small secluded corner after he realized that you were getting rather tipsy. Your face flushed a shade of pink and your speech slurring slightly, he asked if you would like to return to the dorms already but you said you wanted to stay until the party ended. Reluctantly, he agreed noting to not consume too much alcohol since he still needed to drag you back to the dorms.

¡ Rook Hunt !

“Are you feeling alright, mon amour?” Rook quietly asked, his lips ever so near your ear, you felt his warm breath near your face as he princess carried you back to Pomefiore

You gave him a small tired laugh “It was so fun there…but ion think I can help pack up much tomorrow…” you said, your lazy way of speaking showing off your tiredness…and drunkenness. Rook lovingly stared at your flushed face as he carried you, your eyes fluttered shut and breathing steady, he thought he’d seen all sides of you already but it seems like a new view was unlocked for him tonight, you looked stunning under the darkness and the bright multi-colored lights, you doing random dances that popped in your mind while listening to the music entertained him a lot.

Rook quietly opened his room door and placed you down on his bed, you unconsciously grip at the blankets once he put it over your body causing him to let out a small giggle. He decided to do his nightly routine first before joining you in bed, a shower…washing his face with the products that Vil recommended…changing…and he’s done!

He slowly crawled beneath the blankets to join you and pulled you closer to his body, your head now resting on his chest, your arms slowly reaching to rest on Rook’s waist, a content sigh leaves the archer’s lips after finally settling in, his chin resting on top of your head.

All he wishes is to keep this peace forever.

¡ Malleus Draconia !

The after party was…interesting to say the least towards the Briar Valley’s prince, he didn’t exactly understand the purpose of the room being shrouded in darkness with only colorful lights to use to see, but he still tried to have fun. He graduated already so why not?

He let you pull him into the dance floor, towards the sides just in case he bumps into many people due to his large size. Whether it be a slow song or a very energetic one, your hands never left his as you spun around and danced with your lover.

Eventually you needed rest, you sighed as you landed on a chair, grabbing a cup and poured yourself a drink

“Child of man, is that an alcoholic drink?” he asked, his voice low to the point you needed to put effort just to hear him through the blaring music

“Yeah, I haven’t had alcohol in a few months and it’s a party so why not indulge myself a bit?” you gave him a close-eyed smile as you sipped your drink, the bitterness spreading around your mouth and the spikiness in your throat making you cough slightly.

You and Malleus went back and forth between the food table and the dance floor, you drank multiple cups of whatever alcoholic drink was on the table making you almost black out drunk.

As the party died down finally Malleus took this opportunity and teleported you and him to Diasomnia, he caught you when you almost fell after suddenly landing in the dorm

“Dearest, I think you have had enough drinks for the night” he gently said as he laid you down on the plush sheets in his room, you stayed silent as you fell asleep, your hand intertwined with his.

Malleus slowly combed his free hand through your hair, his soft gaze on your sleeping form

“Sleep well, love”

I’M BEYOND EXHAUSTED FROM TODAY, I HAD FUN BUT ITS ALMOST 12:30AM ANS IVE BEEN WRITING THIS WHILE KISTENING TO MIDNIGHTS

[thefoxtrot008]

Dialogue Prompts

Alright, you guys. Here is part 8 of the dialogues list! It's pretty long, this time though these aren't categorized, so enjoy! :)

"This is the best possible outcome we could come up with?!" "I don't know how we keep getting ourselves into these situations."

"And we stand one grade A dumbass." "This is a dumb idea." "So, do it."

"For real, you just jinxed us for all the years to come."

"Don't talk to me unless you're coming to apologize!" "Well, don't worry! I won't"

"You befriended a cult?!"

"That was my bad eye anyway."

"Why is everybody crying? Nobody died."

"Only five visitors at a time!"

"Just in case I didn't get the chance to do it again."

"Thanks for pushing me out of my chair, I guess."

"Why do I have to compete if I didn't do it?"

"And how do you plan on skating by that conversation?"

"Since when did you get so hot?"

"I'm not dead!"

"What?! When did it happen? This is news!"

"Wow. Way to leave me behind."

"You'll have that scar forever, I'm afraid."

"What is more important here? Your freedom? Or theirs?"

"This is close quarters, no?"

"You broke up with him via a letter?!" "It was a detailed letter. Better than over the phone!" "Doesn't make it any better."

"We're going to be late, come on."

"He's just going to find some way to making this my fault isn't he?"

"You're supposed to hit the ball! Not miss it!"

"You'll be lucky if they let you try out again after what happened last year."

"What? You didn't think I was going to do all of this by myself did you?" "I've got to go and make a call." "I've got to go do uh... costume checks..." "Guess it's just you and me cowboy." "I've got to uh..." "If you stay, I'll buy you dinner." "I was gonna go to the bathroom."

"Stop fidgeting. You look good."

"You can look but don't touch."

"My husband's going to kick your ass." "I don't think you understand the severity of the situation."

"Are you sure that's the way it's supposed to go? That doesn't look good."

"I'll only have some of yours if you have some of mine."

"You know, for a thief, you're a bad liar."

"You two better get your stories straight. You better give me a reason as to why you're doing this."

"And what if everything doesn't go to plan? Hmm? There's always that possibility. What, you're gonna pick her over all of us?"

"Hey... uh... I thought you were uh... still mad at me." "Oh, believe me. I still am. But I uh..." "Can't sleep?"

"I can't live like this! Something is wrong. Are you going to tell me what it is?" "You have to ASK what is wrong? Shouldn't you know?!" "I don't, that's why I'm asking."

"Did you put batteries in it?" "Yea, I put batteries in it."

"You left because you got bored?!"

"Later, you and I are going to have a conversation you wish we never had."

"It's about time you guys showed up! Where the hell have you been?!" "We had... a technical difficulty."

"What?! We want to come!" "Not this time. Stay in the car."

"You wanna get out of here?" "Have you done anything like this before?" "No. But this is rather exciting isn't it?"

"So, all of these guys are your brothers?" "Yep. All eleven of them."

"It wouldn't hurt if you asked him." "No, he won't do it. He got out of the game years ago." "He'll do it if I ask him."

"Now, are you going to be a lady and tell me what the gig is?" "Now, where would the fun in that be?"

"And if I don't take it?" "Then this conversation never happened and we've never met... but I do hope, you'll reconsider."

"Any other questions? No? Good."

"Oh, don't let me stop you. Go ahead with the plan." "Glad we have your permission."

"And prey tell, what can you do sweetheart?" "I was hoping you'd never have to find out, but since you asked."

"No! Absolutely not! This is not happening!" "Stay away from my sister! About 10 ft from my sister!" "Quit looking at him like that!" "I can't help it if he's handsome!" "You can't tell me who I can and can date you're not mom!"

"I can handle myself. If he does anything to me, I'll beat him to a pulp." "That's my girl."

"Well, sweetheart. It's just us now. What exactly, is it that you wanna do?"

"Aw, babe. you were worried about me?" "That's all that you got from that conversation?!" "Admit it. You were worried."

"It won't go any other way. I swear, if we have to do this again, I'm gonna.."

"Thank you for staying and helping." "Eh. It''s no problem. Besides, it gives me more time to spend with you." "That was so smooth, I can't."

"You just got out of prison and you went to see him first instead of coming to see me? I'm offended."

"We'll need a crew." "We haven't gotten that far yet."

"We've got a proposition for you. If you're interested." "What's the target?" "holy shit." "it's a lot."

"hey. if you want this to work, this is what I need."

"I mean, if this is something that you want, we'll help you. but if you fail, just prepare to be the laughing stock again." "Bold of you to assume, I've recovered from last year."

"Why were they not present at the time of your discretion?"

"And this letter is for you." "Is it from lover boy? I bet it's from lover boy." "Oh, shove off! So, what if it is?"

"he was our captain, why aren't we getting these offers?" "maybe he likes me better."

"Yea, but you put em' in their place. I wouldn't have gotten off without you." "It's what I'm here for."

"alright. that's it. I'm out."

"What do you mean IF you offended me?!" "Alright!!! I'm sorry that I've offended you!"

"Tell him, that I need a little more space here." "Just apologize!" "Why me?! She overreacted!" "I'm sorry - I overreacted?!" "What?! Just when this was getting good." "Break up. break up. break up, please, for my sake, break up!"

"Oh, come on, love. We have to talk about this!" "Oh, now you wanna talk about this?!"

"Okay. Let's go. We've traveled with you all day, now you're coming with us at night." "But we can't see at night." "Sounds more of like a you problem, doesn't it?"

"I gave it to them." "And who are you to give it to them, when it's rightfully mine!"

"Do you have to go?" "Believe me. I don't want to my love, but I have to."

"I hope he realizes what he's doing." "me too."

"Would all of you please just SHUT UP!!!... he has something he would like to say!" "Thank you."

"I'll go! I'll distract them. I'm good at that." "they will tear you apart." "It'll be enough time to give you what you need."

"he's right. you can't go." "since when are you in complete agreement with him?" "since now. you could die or... or be severely injured you know that right?"

"while you deal with them, I'll go and grab the door." "don't let anyone else in!" "yea, okay."

"this is nice, your place. did you do it yourself?"

"just doing my duty as a good host!" "you seem to be taking this much better than your brother." "you're not supposed to eat that!" "how are you not freaking out about this?! they're destroyed our home, mind you!" "you always do overreact to everything."

"excuse me, but I will not have you insult my own brother in our own home. now, I must ask you to apologize, or to leave. you can find your hospitality elsewhere."

"she doesn't know what love is!" "then this might be a good chance for her to find out."

"you're siding with them!?" "I am not. I'm merely eating."

"you cannot stop this."

"nope. you cannot have one or the other. we come in a package deal. you get both of us." "what is the matter with you?! what makes you think I want to be apart of any of this?!" "this is what we've dreamed about since we were kids! you're telling me you don't want to be apart of this?!"

"you might be the only one to convince him of this."

"I want learn how to do that." "oh, I don't think that you could handle something like this, love." "pft. love? alright. someone hand me a sword so, I can kick his ass." "don't you dare you go easy on me." "believe me love, I won't. trust me when I say that." "five pounds on the girl, she loses." "you're on."

"I'd think twice before doing something like this." "I've already made up my mind. you're not stopping me." "alright. I'll step aside then." "that's right, you better."

__________________________________________________________

And.... that's a wrap folks! :)

[pbandjesse]

Today was a pretty good day. I was still riding the high of buying our house. And we got a lot of stuff done. It felt good. Today was good.

I did not sleep good though. I woke up around 4 with a bad pain in my ribs. I was not having fun and falling back asleep was very very rough. I was able to eventually but it took forever.

When I woke up at 7 though I felt fine. I was happy to see James. I was in a good mood. James let me know that they went to the house to drop off some stuff. And discovered that while we were given 4 keys, 3 of them were all for the back door and I had the only front door one. This is hilarious. We will have to get more front door ones made ASAP. In the meantime James just let themselves in the backdoor and everything was just fine.

I got myself together and we left a little early. We left together. And I had a nice drive to camp. There wasn't any traffic on my drive, but going the opposite way I saw 3 different fender benders that were causing so much traffic. It was for miles.

I got to camp before 8. And it was cold but not as cold as yesterday. I was in a good mood.

I had some stuff to do this morning. I wanted to do my drawing for the day but that was all I would get done. Because pretty quickly I was working on documenting things bought for the house and making a more solid plan for what ones furniture were buying and a few other things. Just wanting to go at it with the best data and staying in budget. And so far so good.

I decided I would put together the desk Alexi got from IKEA yesterday. And that was going really well. Until I got to the last steps.

When everyone else came in I was putting the last screws in but was struggling because it wasn't 100% lining up and so Alexi and Heather were trying to help hold it but it wasn't working. And then it was missing a plastic triangle that holds the desk up to be a standing desk.

So I was like. Okay problem solved. And went to turn it over and that's when we realized that the entire top of the table was scratched and gouged? What? Did I do that?? How??? I hadn't looked at the top when I opened the box. I just put it on the floor. But it was so extensively scratched that Alexi didn't think it was possible that I did it by accident. And so we think it may have been a return that was our back in the floor? It was so weird. And I was so upset.

But Sarah took over and got customer service on the computer they are giving us a new table, and letting us keep the scratched one. Sarah was such a rockstar. I really appreciated her handling that because I was so upset.

Since she did that I took over creating labels to send letters to Europe for our camp America staff. I had to go through a bunch of very unfamiliar addresses. But I was able to collect everything and learned to create labels and how to print them. New skill unlocked.

Me and Sarah moved the scratched desk up to the attic and found that one of the buck heads had fallen down. So we moved that back to a better spot. Decided he was the guard dog of the attic. We were just in a little bit of a silly mood.

Heather asked us if we could go set up some tables and chairs over at the lodge for when John the consultant was coming. No problem. So we walked across the feild. I love walking through the snow. It's slightly frozen on top so it's really crunchy. And we talked about paint and colors. Specifically haint blue. And how it's supposed to keep spiders away. I think it would be nice to use that color somewhere in the house.

I have paint on the mind for sure. Later this evening me and James would discuss painting. And specifically we realized that the entire house is grey. Including the ceilings. I am mostly sure that it is actually just primer because of the matte texture and how easily it scuffs. So we are going to have to do a lot of painting sooner rather then later. Maybe we will use haint blue somewhere.

After we finished setting up the tables and chairs and things we went back to the office for lunch. I read some of my book. Learned about cowboys and how hobbling a horse is a way of breaking them. Which lead to me and Heather talking about how my highschool principal broke wild horses as a young man. And now he got his jaw broken by one of them and that story was wild. Especially since he told it to us in Bible class.

I was telling Heather all about the weird stuff at my school. And just the stuff I had to unlearn or relearn because we weren't really socialized to people outside the church. But I don't really have many shocking moments learning that something was weird anymore. It's been a few years since I have had to deal with that.

Eventually it was time to go to the lodge for the meeting. And it was a long meeting. I won't rehash it completely but I got a little frustrated at times. And I don't want Alexi to think that I don't love camp, because I do! So much! But I also want camp to be better and when we just talk about it but we aren't actually doing anything but talking it makes me feel crazy. I don't want to talk broad, I want specifics, I want answers and direction! I got some kudos about all the program writing I had done but I still felt like no one was saying what exactly we were doing. And I get it but also it's incredibly frustrating for me when I can see some answers. Ugh.

Chris was in this meeting too. And I think between Alexi talking about best case scenarios and Chris talking about the worst case I was just a little over frustrated. I really hope I didn't come off as a brat but I was pushing for answers pretty hard. And at least tomorrow I have some direction for working on village programing.

John is very inspirational but I think the office wants him to be more then that and I don't think that's realistic. He's there to give them a push but they have to be the ones to do it. And I can only write so much. Like I don't care if we use exactly what I've made, it won't hurt my feelings, but at least I've done something and we aren't working from nothing or just imagining. I have made something tangible. And I hope that helps push everyone else forward.

We finished up the meeting and I packed up the screens and books we used to prop up John's projector. I chatted with everyone for a few minutes. But it was time for me to go.

I trudged across the field and stopped at the office. I got my tablet and my lunch bag. My first package of my Amazon order came and that was exciting. I chatted with Sarah for a few minutes but she had a tour to give. So I was off and heading home.

I had a stop at amazing glaze first to get me and Callie's bowls and I was so so happy with how they came out. They look amazing. I am so thrilled with my room and I think this might be my favorite piece. Even more then my ducks and I love my ducks.

After I sent pictures to Callie I went home for real..I was so happy to see James. I texted them and let them know I was home so they could bring some stuff done to start packing the car.

We brought a few boxes and got as much in the car as we could. I decided to bring some toilet paper, tissues, and paper towels to have over there. And then we headed to our new house!

The street was not as dark as it had been that one night. There are actually street lights and each house has a light so we are doing good there. And I was so happy to walk around the house. I can be a little more critical now. Some of the trim paint is messy on baseboards. The vinal flooring they referred to as luxury is. Fine. But the biggest issue I have noticed is the colors of the walls and ceilings.

It's grey. It's all grey. And like I said earlier I think it's just primer? Painting the ceilings was not in the plan. Painting walls sure, but ceilings is a lot of work. It's not impossible but it will take some planning and I am really hoping we can get it done sooner rather then later so we don't have to cover all of our belongings. I will have to look into that this weekend or this upcoming week.

While we were at the house, after we got all of the stuff inside I decided to build the toilet paper storage I bought. It's so cute. It was a little difficult to put together but that's okay. James helped. And it felt good that we have made something just for this house. That felt. Really good.

We would also change out some of the knobs in the kitchen. And then I had some weird hinged ones I put in the bathroom. We would do a ton of measuring for the living room and trying to make some plans for the walls. I am excited to figure out how to do new types of diy work and I'm just so excited. Even if I'm not looking forward to painting the ceilings.

After we had done everything we thought we could for the evening we would gather ourselves and went to dinner.

We decided to go to five guys. And that was fun. I showed James my lists and we discussed deligating tasks. James was being so sweet. We were laughing about the soda machine being in Spanish. It was just so lovely. I love my husband so much.

We would soon go home. And I became exhausted as soon as we got home. I would shake off the brain tired but I just wanted to get in bed. I would first add some new water to my tanks and kiss Sweetp. And then got in bed to be cuddly.

Our landlady Tina called that a new oven is supposed to be delivered tomorrow. And we were finally able to break the news. We bought a house. And she was so excited for us. So the plan is to be out of here at the end of February and we have a reference for possibly Julien and his roommate moving in. She said she is always excited when her tenants buy something permanent and I had been so nervous about telling her. Because she's always so lovely to us. So I'm just so glad she reacted so positively.

And now I am just very ready to sleep. I am going to grab a shower and brush my teeth and get ready for sleep.

I don't know if I need to go to camp tomorrow. It's supposed to snow overnight and throughout the day tomorrow. So we will see what the day holds. If I'm working at home or what. But I think it will still be a lovely day.

I hope you all have a great night. I love you all. Sleep good!

[camuslittlesister]

Summer of Smut 2023 - 2

It's My Life

Prompt Beach Bar Flirting Ends in One-Night-Stand (a day late, soz ^^') Otome Hakuoki SSL Ship Harada x female OC Warning It partly takes place in the context of a scene in the game so could be considered a spoiler. Also the characters are true to their SSL personalities and situations, so that could be considered a spoiler too. It’s also again very plot heavy, I’m an Energetics blueprint (look it up, it'll be worth it)

It's my life It's now or never But I ain't gonna live forever I just want to live while I'm alive - Bon Jovi

"What's with that sour face, Toshi?" I was sitting at a table in a far corner of the bar area at the water park, my colleagues and friends Toshizo Hijikata and Keisuke Sanan glaring at each other while the old pal Shinpachi Nagakura scoured the menu back and forth looking for the cheapest item that would provide the highest amount of food "I'm going to pick up the tab" I announced, hoping it'd make Shinpachi speed up his decision-making. 

"You did not die for a bit of water in the face, and anyway look at how cute they are. We must accept that we aren't that young anymore" I took a glance at Todou and Yukimura at the other side of the bar as I left the table. Ah, teenage love. A feeling I hadn't felt in a long time. Love at all had been a feeling I hadn't felt in a long time, but as a high school teacher with mostly male colleagues stuck in Tokyo for the summer holidays there weren't that many opportunities for the kind of whirlwind romance you have on holiday. My parents kept bugging me about settling down, but that felt just as far away. I smiled wryly as I leaned on the bar, taking my place in the queue, looking back at my friends looking a little more relaxed than when I left them. 

Soon I was taken back to Earth by the light touch of someone bumping into me. "Oh, I'm sorry" it was a woman's voice with a cute accent. I replied that it was not a problem, not paying much attention to what must have happened. My turn came, and I ordered our drinks and Shinpachi's huge parfait. I heard the same voice again, speaking in English to the Japanese friend who was with her: "Must be nice being a man that fit, I'd have needed 3 trips for our order if you didn't come..."  that fit...that's a compliment, right? I finally turned in their directions as I made to leave the bar. She didn't notice, as they were by then making their order. 

"Hey Sano, why so distracted today?" Shinpachi was talking to me but my mind was clearly somewhere else. I realised I had been looking at the girls a few tables away from us, absentmindedly. There was four of them. Keisuke smirked, noticing that I averted my eyes, and turned around to see where from. "There's four of us, and four young women. Maybe losing to Todou was not bad after all" before I could realise what was going on, he was half the way to their table. I could not hear the conversation, but it was easy enough to imagine. He addressed the Japanese girl as the group spokesperson, in keigo with his melodic intonation that really was more like a snake trying to ensnare a prey, bowing elegantly like he was paying court to the daughter of a lord or something. It wasn't too long before he came back with a triumphant smile on his face, four young women and their drinks following behind him like a bridal procession. 

Shinpachi shot up to attention like a lazy soldier caught red-handed taking a nap, looking around for extra chairs. Keisuke had thought of everything, though. The table next to ours had already vacated, making it easy to just move it closer so we could all fit around it. "I'm going to buy us another round. What would you girls like?" they made their choices and then he confirmed if we just wanted to stick to the same. A petite girl with brown hair that reminded me of Yukimura asked him if he needed a hand since there were 8 of us, and they left while the other girls spread around the table to mingle with us rather than all sit on one side like a singles mixers. 

The girl from the bar sat between Toshi and I. I panicked: the old grump had a 50/50 chance of ruining our time together. She looked amused as she leaned back on the chair at a 45º angle, like she knew the vantage point it gave to her figure in the stylish black one piece she was wearing: "My last day in Tokyo and I'm finally meeting people other than my friends." We talked about where she was going next and for how long, how she had made these friends since she knew them before the trip and was visiting, what her life was like in her home city. Toshi chimed in every so often, clearly listening to the conversation but not bothered enough to participate in it fully, but it was mostly as if we were alone. It wasn't long before we were bantering back and forth, by then on our third or fourth round of cocktails. 

"Do you girls have any plans for your last night in Tokyo?" I asked, as the sun was beginning to set, letting us know it was almost time they'd close the establishment. "Nothing set in stone" she replied, her tone an open invitation. It was as if the left the ball in my court: she made it clear she was not desperate for the attention, while letting me know she was open to an invitation. "I know an amazing rooftop lounge where we could grab some food and see one of the best views in the city..." we exchanged phone numbers and a promise to meet again later that night.

"Are your friends okay with you not spending your last night with them?" I asked her, trying to hide how nervous I felt seeing her dressed up in a low cut evening dress, her makeup enhancing her already incredible feature. I had seen her with just a swimsuit and, yet, her sex appeal had shot through the roof as she swayed her hips on her heeled sandals on her way to me. "I think they would be way more mad at me if I didn't spend it with you, to be honest..." 

The relaxed atmosphere of the late afternoon couldn't feel any more distant as I felt conscious of her every move. The way she caressed the side of her champagne glass as I talked, and how her lips parted seductively whenever she brought the glass to her lips. The way her chest leaned forward as she ate. The way her eyes lit up when she talked about something she was passionate about. I was captivated. Knowing it was her last night in Tokyo was a bittersweet feeling, she was a woman I could see myself falling in love with, but at the same time there was a thrill to knowing we only had that one night, and she would always live in this suspended realm of possibilities. 

"Shall we dance?" I asked her extending my hand towards her after our dessert plates had been cleared. She took it, and let me lead her to the dance floor area of the lounge. It was busy as all popular spots are, and the closeness of her body made me somewhat tense. I wondered how she felt, as she touched me playfully, coquettishly even. "What time do you leave?" I asked her, as the night turned into morning. "My train is not until the afternoon..." she replied, a knowing smile on her lips. "How about we take it somewhere we can be alone? I promise you'll make your train" "If you don't mind, my hotel isn't very far..." we called the cab and I sat next to her, my hand casually on her thigh to mask how I was excited like I hadn't been in a long time, even though I was far from an inexperienced teenager.

She opened the door and turned on the light, and I was able to notice some dresses on the chair and her makeup all over the vanity before all I could see was her, her arms wrapped around my neck. I wrapped mine around her back and leaned down to kiss her. I don't know how long I kissed her for, it felt both like an eternity and not long enough, as I savoured her like fine sake. I only know that we started by the door, and we parted with her sitting on the bed in front of me, her dress on the floor and my shirt unbuttoned. She looked beautiful in black lace, her red lipstick now vanished to a mere tint. 

I took off the shirt as she reached for my belt, and I rushed to help her out like every second wasted not feeling her was one too many. She looked down at my erection with a pleased expression, but I stopped her hand reaching out for me. She looked puzzled. Was I truly her first unselfish lover? I held her hands laced with mine as I kissed her neck, trailing my lips down her collarbone, pulling down her bra straps with my teeth before lying her down on to the bed and finally let go of her hands to play with her breasts. I unclasped the bra and she took it off, her hands reaching for my shoulders as if she understood I didn't want her near my penis yet. I took off her knickers and parted her legs. 

She looked surprised when I just didn't push myself in, but soon relaxed into my touch as I checked how wet she was (a lot) and how ready she was. She felt tense around my finger, so I whispered in her ear, as low as my voice would go: "Let me spoil you like the princess you are." She settled on her back as I reached as far as I could go, massaging her clitoris at the same time until I felt her tension go with her orgasm. I whispered again: "The sounds you make are so sweet". I kissed her again, taking it deeper as I made my way inside her at last. 

I started slow and deliberate, pushing as far as I could, feeling for her reaction, then picking up the pace faster and harder, her body moving in sync with mine like a boat on a wave, her moans pushing me further and further into my own pleasure. I laid down next to her, breathless, and she curled up on my chest as if we were long-time lovers. She kissed me where my heart was beating so much faster: "It's almost tragic that we only had one night."

CC:  @voltage-vixen 🖤 @xxsycamore​ 🖤

[keeper-of-all-the-random-things]

III. Public Relations

In which Alex makes a friend.

Masterlist | Previous | Next

Contents: discussion of death, partying

.....

“He’s really good at kissing ass when he wants to be.”  Alex lays sprawled on her dorm mattress, Thomas Mallory’s charity event playing on her laptop.

Cass blows a raspberry as she picks through her closet.  “Why don’t you like him?”

“We’ve spoken maybe five times since I met him at mom’s funeral.  I think he regrets taking me in.  I’m not a big enough charity to be worth his time.”

“Look on the bright side,” Cass says.  “You’re rich now.”  She shakes a skimpy red dress in front of her in question.

Alex shakes her head.  “He’s rich.  I’ll be rich if he dies.”

“When.”  Cass holds up another dress.

“When what?”

“When he dies.  You’ll be rich when he dies.  No one lives forever.”

“That’s rather morbid.”

“Sorry.  But it’s true.  Okay, time to stop moping.  We’ve got life to live.”  Cass tosses something at Alex.

Alex guesses it’s meant to be a dress, but she can’t figure out how the scrap of fabric is supposed to cover all the important bits.

Cass helps her into it and slaps her hand away as she tugs at the short hem.

“Why can’t I wear my dress?” Alex asks, not deterred from tugging.  “Mine fits me.”

“Because,” Cass says.  “You’ve been wearing the same one dress for eight years.  It still has the fake blood stains.  You’re rich now.  You could afford to buy a new one.”

“I’m not -”  Allex cuts off as Cass levels a Look at her.

“Just accept it.  You look great.”

“I’m going to freeze.”

“Beauty is pain.”

“Right.  I forgot.  At least I’ll die pretty.”

“Now you’re getting it.”  Cass grins.  “Let’s go make some friends.”

…

Alex can hear the party before she can see it.  Tuneless music pours into the street.

Cass disappears almost as soon as they arrive, leaving Alex to mingle with drunk strangers.  Her favorite activity.

Alex stands by a wall, holding an empty red cup to avoid unwanted attention.

“You’re supposed to make friends,” Cass says in passing before she disappears again in the crowd.

“Hey!  Baby billionaire!”  Some guy, Charles or Chad or something, pushes his way over.

Alex grimaces.

“Hey,” Charles-Chad says again when he’s closer.

Alex gives a curt nod and stares at his feet.  They stand awkwardly for a beat.  Charles-Chad is clearly waiting for Alex to say something.

When she doesn’t, he says, “Bet you’d have great parties, Baby Billionaire.”

Alex tilts her head.  Charles-Chad is distracted by someone in a dress somehow smaller than Alex’s.

Despite the cool air, Alex makes her way to the back porch.  It isn’t quiet, but the crushing noise from inside is dulled.  A couple makes out in a dark corner, and someone is passed out one of the deck chairs, but the porch is otherwise unoccupied.

Alex leans against the railing and fiddles with her cup.  She glances over as she is joined by deck chair guy.

“Did I wake you up?” she asks, though she knows she can’t compete with the noise from inside.

He smiles and ducks his head.  “Not many people make it out here,” he says to the yard.  “I’m here to give you your next quest.”

“Oh noble messenger,” Alex plays along, “I’m not sure I’m yet ready for a quest.”

“Never fear.  I have procured items to prepare you.”  He shrugs off a bright flannel shirt and holds it out to Alex.

“I can’t take your shirt!”

“Yes, you can.  You’re turning blue, and I’ve got three more layers to spare.”

Alex nods reluctantly but is grateful for the warmth.

“I’m Roger, by the way.  Roger Lemmings.  Certified quest bringer.  I live here, if you want to return the shirt.  Once you’re properly attired for your adventures, that is.”

“Roger Lemmings.”  Alex stuck her hand out from the too long sleeve.  “Alex Mallory.  Certified bringer of … of something cool.  Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

…

Alex can’t stop smiling.  Walking back to the dorm, trudging up three flights of stairs, getting ready for bed.  Her face is sore from smiling.

She hadn’t expected to have so much fun at the party.  But Roger Lemmings.  He was a surprise.

Alex falls asleep thinking about next time.

Cass gets back early the next morning, looking tired but content.  Her eyes light up when she sees Alex.

“What is that?” she points to the flannel hanging over the back of Alex’s desk chair and gives a little shimmy. 

“That’s a shirt,” Alex teases.  “I’m sure you’ve encountered them before.”

“This one’s new.”  Cass grins, all traces of tiredness gone.  “You didn’t have it last night.  Tell me everything.”

Alex grins back.  “I did what you said.  I made a friend.”

[jodilin65]

TUESDAY, MAY 30, 1989 I haven’t written for so long now and I definitely want to get back with it again. The last time I wrote, I didn’t mention ripping off part of the ‘s’ in the ‘Who Cares’ thing they have on the front of the cottage in black tape. We were seen there that day and right now Mom and Dad are on their way down and they’re going to suspect us for sure, but I know nothing, I’ll tell them.

Sure enough, Tammy knew the place was up for sale, but she says she doesn’t know why.

Bullshit. It probably has got something to do with the break-in they had this winter.

I asked Mom if they’re gonna be in Florida year-round and she said yes, but Dad says they’ll be back up here, but God knows when.

Jessie’s gonna be buying my chairs and couch, which I’m glad to see a friend get, rather than just anyone. After all, it was Nana and Pa’s. I’m psyched to get the newer furniture from the Longmeadow house. It’ll look a whole hell of a lot better.

I’ve been up 25 hours and I’m going to try to crash now, and when I get up I’m gonna write music to some lyrics Andy wrote. He’s the writer, I’m the composer.Web Analytics

MONDAY, MAY 15, 1989 Today at 9:00, I’m to clean Russ’s house, as far as I know. I’ll call him to make sure. Whether I clean his house or not, I’m going downtown to the bank to cash Carabetta’s security deposit check and to order new checks. Then after, I’ll probably do some shopping. I want to buy some jewelry.

Andy just told me it’s great therapy for him when I write. We’re both just spacing off into our own worlds right now.

I was shocked to see the for-sale sign on the folk’s cottage. I figured they’d be there forever during the summers. Of course, they’d never tell me, but I bet their favorite daughter knows about this.

MONDAY, MAY 8, 1989 Not much has happened since I last wrote. I busted my ass cleaning a huge house in Chicopee last Friday and proved to Jim that I’m worth way more than $6 an hour. I know I’ll get a raise from him soon. He’s already hinted at it.

Jim and I had a long talk, too. He seems really nice and is qualified to be a therapist, so I found out. He says I’ll be ok in his brother’s band, but I don’t know. We’ll see.

Jai was away this weekend and he just got back a few hours ago wicked tired and we almost fucked. What stopped us was his girlfriend. I don’t want to get involved with anyone unless they can devote themselves to me only. I know he’s attracted to me and I really like him a lot, but I’d still rather have a woman. Since I can’t, I’d rather stay alone.

Another thing that terrifies me is if we ever did get involved (if he gave up Jenny) and if he turned psycho or if something went terribly wrong, then I have to live next to the guy.

Bruce called me today pressuring me to get a girlfriend once in for all. Yeah, sure. I explained why I can’t get one. Not one I would want, anyway.

Jai’s the first decent person I’ve ever gotten.

I have a busy week coming up. Tomorrow I have a condo to clean and grocery shopping to do. Tuesday, Jai and I are going to my allergy doctor. Wednesday, I work again. Thursday, I’m not sure yet what I’m doing. Friday, I see Dr. Moshiri, then Jim’s picking me up from there to clean the same house I did last Friday. I’ll be doing that house every Friday.

[briankeene]

The Eternal Tugboat Captain

"You want to have big fame Let me explain what happens to these stars and their big brains First they get played like all damn day Long as you sell everything will be ok Then you get dissed by the media and fans Things never stay the same way they began I heard that some never get fooled to the fullest That's why fools end up dining on a bullet Think everything's fine in the big time..."

Cypress Hill - (Rock) Superstar

It's 7:50 AM on January 16 as I type this, and I'm thinking about being a forest ranger again. 

My day started the same way it always does. Got up at 5am. Drove over to my ex-wife's house. Had coffee with her and talked about our previous day. Made breakfast for my son and talked about our previous day. Got my morning hike in -- two miles through the forest. Came back inside and sat down here at my desk. Dallas took his position in the cat chair next to me. ("Cat chair" being a euphemism for 'full on office chair that I have to place right next to my own office chair or else Dallas sits in my lap all day and pats the keyboard with his paws and does other things that are not conducive to helping me write). Read the news.

The top headline of which, by the way, is that a full 90% of online content will be generated by AI within the next two years. And the other headline of which is that CNET has been using AI to write their news articles since last November, and most readers didn't notice. 

Both of these provide grim but vindicating addendums to the Blog I wrote last week. The bottom line? If you're a freelance writer who earns most of your income writing for online venues, or a freelance journalist who strings for various news sites, your days are numbered. And it's going to start getting tougher for us fiction writers, as well.

But it's already tough for us fiction writers, eh? Last week's Blog prompted several emails from various folks embedded at various big five publishing companies, all of whom told me that there are people in boardrooms already looking at how they can incorporate AI into the business, be it editorial, production or yes, writing. Think about those poor HarperCollins workers, still standing out there on the picket line. Solidarity forever, of course. I was born and raised in a union household. But what's it all for, down the road? Let's say the union wins and the workers return triumphant to their jobs. Will they then be replaced by AI?

Writers, of course, have always known they could be replaced. We have always been replaceable. Of course, it was always by other writers, rather than AI. But the song remains the same. I myself have been replaced. After spending 20 years fighting for inclusion, equality, better pay and more diversity in my field, I am now too old for the Big Five. Because the one thing we forgot to tackle was ageism. And you can't even fault the Big Five, because it makes perfect sense from an economic point of view. Why should they buy my next book and pay me an appropriate amount based on my 20-year record of sales when they can instead hire somebody 20 years younger, who has no sales record, and pay them a fraction of what they'd have to pay me? I have already been replaced -- not by AI -- but by accountants and by 22-year old editorial assistants who only know my name because maybe their parents read my books or maybe, just maybe, one of the younger authors who they do read has mentioned that I was an influence on them.

But that's okay. I knew that was coming, which was why I set up Manhattan On Mars Press. And speaking of which... I clicked out of the news and logged into my KDP dashboard, to see how many sales I had yesterday. It was then I discovered that THINGS LEFT BEHIND has been hit with the same Expanded Distribution glitch that has hit many of my other Manhattan On Mars titles. If you're a reader, rather than a writer, you might not know about the Expanded Distribution glitch. Indeed, i'll bet there are many writers who don't know about it either. But it is widespread and getting a straight answer from Amazon about why it is happening is exponentially more difficult than trying to get Trump and Biden to understand that they can't just go dottering off with classified documents and take them home to read while they sip their Metamucil. 

This is what happens. You publish your paperback via KDP, and you select Expanded Distribution so that booksellers other than Amazon -- places like B&N, BAM, Waterstones, etc. -- can carry the book. And it works. Usually it takes 7 to 14 days for it to show up in the other booksellers' inventory systems. Except what happens now is that after about 7 days, there's a glitch in which KDP flags the book as not meeting the requirements for Expanded Distribution, so the book never ends up in those systems. And the book, by the way, does indeed meet all the requirements for Expanded Distribution. It's a glitch. I've got emails from KDP customer service acknowledging that it's a glitch, and that the mysterious 'Technical Team' are aware of it, but despite this, it never seems to get fixed. And so THINGS LEFT BEHIND, ALONE, LEADER OF THE BANNED, and other Manhattan On Mars Press titles are not available in paperback anywhere other than Amazon. Makes it kind of difficult to plan any sort of book signing tour, doesn't it? And makes it kind of difficult to sell your book to consumers who refuse to use Amazon.   

Of course, KDP was always meant to be a stop-gap measure for Manhattan On Mars Press. My plan was to eventually switch over to offset printing. But making that transition takes money, and there's not a lot of that to spare right now on account of we are in the early stages of a global recession. And it's hard to sell to readers who can still afford to buy books, because the venues for reaching them are no longer working. I've got 25,000 followers on Twitter. It used to be if I announced a new book like THINGS LEFT BEHIND, maybe 10,000 or those 25,000 would see the Tweet. Now, thanks to the efforts of Elon "Pale White Underbelly" Musk, I'm lucky if 1,000 people see that Tweet.      

It used to be very easy to sell books. Book comes out. Post it on your website, newsletter, Twitter and Facebook. Then get back to work writing the next book. Now, you have to post it on your website, newsletter, Twitter and Facebook, as well as Hive, Instagram, TikTok, YouTube, Mastodon, Discord, Reddit, and all the other places that are popping up as social media becomes increasingly fragmented. You'd think this would lead to more sales, but in fact, it's the opposite. This dilutes your exposure and message, dilutes the impact, and dilutes how many people see the announcement. No, as we learned with END OF THE ROAD, writers have to get back out there and meet their audiences and sell those books by hand. Except you can't do that because of the fucking KDP Expanded Distribution glitch, and okay, sure, you could just order a fuck-ton of physical copies from Amazon and then sell them at conventions, but those are quickly becoming non-viable because a) there are too many and b) prices have skyrocketed so that when an attendee shows up, they get autographs from the cast of Terrifier 2, Smile, or Insert Any Random 1980s Slasher Title Here at $50 a pop, and then they have money left over to buy lunch and a Funko Pop, so no, you're not going to sell them a book.

It's enough to make you want to say, "Fuck it. Why not surrender it all to the AI? Let's see a fucking computer have to deal with this bullshit."

It is 9:00 in the morning now, and it took me an hour and ten minutes to write those paragraphs above (with five minutes spent standing up and moving around so that I don't die, and five additional minutes spent getting more coffee and assuring Dallas I'd be right back and he didn't need to get up and follow me). So... an hour, basically. Used to be I could have typed that in ten minutes or so, but I'm slowing down. I'm slowing down and carpal tunnel and arthritis and my weakening left eye and all the other maladies that come from being 55 and having spent a life pounding keyboard and punching things make it increasingly difficult to do this job correctly. 

And then I wonder how Laird Barron is doing at the hospital, and decide I'll text Paul Tremblay later to see. Which then sends me down the rabbit hole of memory. Suddenly it is April 2005 and J.F. Gonzalez, Mary SanGiovanni, L. Marie Wood and I are standing in Matt Warner's kitchen in the suburbs of Washington D.C. because earlier in the day we all did a signing near there and now Matt is having a party. F. Paul Wilson, Douglas E. Winter, and Elizabeth Massie are there, too, but we're still young enough and newbie enough that we still get nervous talking to them for very long because they are F. Paul Wilson, Douglas E. Winter, and Elizabeth Massie. 

Anyway, we are standing there in the kitchen, talking about the recent death of J.N. Williamson and the steadily ailing Charles L. Grant (who has been mentoring Mary the same way Dick Laymon had mentored me). And I comment that it is inconceivable to me that these two giants of horror fiction don't have the money to deal with these health problems. And then, Doug Winter, who is passing through the kitchen to get another round of drinks for him and Paul, stops and says, "Now you know what keeps us awake at night, kid."

Doug was probably about the age I am now when he said that, and you reading this? Now you know what keeps me awake at night, kid. This week it's Laird's turn. Next week it might be mine again. Or one of my other friends. Because 25 years later, yeah, we may have improved things when it comes to pay and equality and inclusion, but we've done fuck all to make sure we didn't go out like Jerry Williamson or Charlie Grant. 

So then my mind goes back to the forest ranger angle.

J.F. Gonzalez and I used to have a running joke. Whenever we'd get screwed, whenever a publisher was doing shady things, or another writer was being an asshole, or when anything in this stupid business was going wrong, we'd joke about quitting and getting another job together. Jesus always thought we should become tugboat captains. And that's the way he said it, too. Not "Let's buy a tugboat down in the Chesapeake Bay somewhere and crew it and make money guiding ships and barges into the harbor." No, it was "let's quit and be tugboat captains." And then I'd counter with, "No, let's go be forest rangers". But Jesus was uneasy around deep nature. Hell, he had a paranoid fear of cows that stayed with him until he died. Nevertheless, we'd toss those at each other whenever we needed cheering up. During the Dorchester - Leisure Books fiasco and the small press implosion we tossed them at each other 20 times per day.

Now I sit here thinking about it by myself 20 times per day.

You think everything's fine in the big time? It's not, kid. You can be 25 years into this career, and have achieved a remarkable amount of success -- both financially and critically -- but at the end of the day you'll still sit and worry, because that money is only good if people continue to buy books, and it's getting harder and harder to make that happen because it seems that the entire system is now actively aligned against you from the top down, and you are an old dog and willing to learn new tricks, but there don't seem to be any new tricks -- or if there are, nobody seems inclined to teach them to you. And so, you sit there, at your desk, and you wonder how the hell you're going to pay for this wedding, and the kid's college in three years, and what the doctor is going to tell you later this week, and how the hell you're going to pay for that. And then your landlord dies, and you know that it's only a matter of time before his family will want to sell the place you're living in (and you can't fault them for that, really) but how the hell are you and your fiancee going to find another rental with the space that you need that will also accept cats, and what if that happens to coincide with the wedding, and your endgame plan of retiring in the mountains of West Virginia where you could live comfortably on a writer's income slips further and further out of reach...

And yeah, walking away from it all and becoming a forest ranger seems more and more desirable. Because then you could walk into the forest and just disappear. 

Or you could be a tugboat captain, and motor way out there where the bay meets the Atlantic, and casually slip over the side and beneath the waves.

It's nice to dream...  

[yanderecandystore]

Could you please do a fanfic for a male version of Yandere! Lady Dimitrescu (from Resident Evil Village game) with the reader.

I really like the Resident Evil franchise but I'm too lazy to know what the hell is happening in the older games XD I'm so sorry about that-

I loved watching playthroughs of Resident Evil Village (can't buy the game ;-;), but I felt like it was a bit empty, idk- I felt like the lords weren't really explored enough.

Also the Duke is the best husbando in the whole game- Fight me! >:3

TW/Tags: GN = Gender Neutral, I normally forget to properly name it when it's gender neutral, most of the time I just say "reader" // maybe ooc // lazy genderbent, I'm terrible with names // size difference // servant reader // mentions of gore/cuts/bruises/blood and deaths (and torture- I'm so sorry-) // reader gets hurt // mentions of vomiting

It's Dinner Already [Yandere!M!Dimitrescu x GN!Reader - Short Fanfiction]

It's dinner time already, unfortunately for you, of course.

It feels almost like a routine at this point- Which in a way, it is! You always take care of your tasks during the day, while dreading the inevitable time for dinner to arrive again.

Everyday, at this exact same hour, you and the other servants would prepare a meal for Lord Dimitrescu and his lovely… Sons…

As someone who has started "working" for their family only a month ago, you can positively say: Starving in the cold woods next to your village would have probably been a more merciful death than the ones you have witnessed at this place. You weren't as accustomed to such brutal executions at your village, actually you hardly even witnessed so much death, at least not so up close.

When you came here, you didn't expect to be instantly comforted and treated with respect- You were a commoner looking for an possibility to thrive in a noble's house, you were basically an easy target for any entitled selfish lord to easily belittle you and make you work for them until your hands would turn to dust. Yet nothing could have prepared you for such an odd situation.

Vampires. Monsters. Fiends if you were bold enough to insult them. You weren't exactly welcomed as much as you were snatched in and now forever trapped inside this castle. You can still hear their laughter… Their insane expressions of pure glee, the way they have bursted into maliciously laughing at your pain as you screamed for help trying to open up their door again and be free from that nightmare.

The chase didn't last even a second, they stabbed your legs with their scythes and brought you deeper inside this hellhole, as you cried your eyeballs out. The sons had brought you back inside so their father could take a look at the "intruder".

An absolute titan amongst the mortals. His height was only a sick reminder of how much power he had over the castle, over his sons, and now- Over you.

He may not have been as massive as he was threatening as you remind him to be, but at the time you were just in awe of his height considering you have never seen someone as tall and as mighty.

Then again- You have never seen vampires as well. Were they the same vampires as the books you've read as a kid? You weren't so sure of it…

You were hoping that if you begged for life and for forgiveness for having disturbed their peace, that they could spare you and let you go back to your village. Sadly enough, you commented on how you were only trying to look for a job as a servant.

You probably shouldn't have given them ideas, but it's too late to think about your mistakes now, however.

The sons begged to see your blood spilled, yet Lord Dimitrescu was merciful enough to grant you your "wish", as he said.

It has been a month ever since you were trapped inside and forced to work as a miserable little servant, and even if you didn't suffer the worst forms of punishments that they had in-store for you, you couldn't help but fantasize about just running away and never turning back.

You're so tired of this castle, of the smell of carnage, of the undeserved and over the top punishments, and especially of the people who would subjugate you to such things.

But at last, it's dinner time already, and you can't keep them waiting.

You feel your hands shaking as you walk out of the kitchen and into the dining room where the masters of the castle were so graciously waiting for you. You know what they're waiting for- But you can't let them distract you, for those that commit accidents are faced with fates worse than death.

Although you would rather do this process quickly, you can't afford mistakes to happen, so you take your time to set not only their meal in front of each one but to also pour "wine" into their glasses. You do all of this without looking directly into their eyes, only bowing down to each one and saying "excuse me"s in what they would call a "decent tone", as the smell of their disgusting beverage starts to irritate your nostrils. If you didn't know the main ingredient to Sanguis Virgins is, you probably wouldn't have this immense disgust over it, but right now just the thought of it makes you want to gag.

Only villains could so easily drink blood, and still make a living out of it.

Your internal thoughts of pure hatred against this whole situation almost completely blinded you to the fact that they were eerily, very quiet.

….

On most nights they would be talking with each other while occasionally making comments about you or your presence. Obviously they were all pretty nasty comments that they somehow expected you to back it up in some way or another, it's when they try to insert you into their conversation that makes you hate this occasion so badly, but it normally ends as quickly as it begins.

But as you are pouring wine to Lord's Dimitrescu, you notice that they haven't said a single thing while you were there. You stop what you're doing as you realize that they were silently observing you this whole time, and as you look into their expressions you come to think that maybe you have messed up-

Somehow, in some way or form, you may have messed up- And the fact this mistake could cost your head only agitates your already very worried mind.

….

A small moment of silence continues before the middle son, Cassandro, starts to chuckle in an almost innocent way- As if he was a kid who just said a bad word for the first time- And as he bursts into sudden laughter, Daniel leans towards Bello and loudly whispers:

"- I told you, they do this every time." To which Bello only replied with:

"- It's almost like hypnosis in a way."

The three sons were mesmerized by your ability to trap yourself in your own mind. They're probably aware that you do this as a defensive mechanism but they still find it comical in a weird way. You feel yourself get more tense as you look up at Lord Dimitrescu and see him staring back at you, with an unreadable expression across his face.

Before you could come up with an excuse to whatever you may have caused to disturb their dinner, the Lord himself spoke.

"- How inappropriate. As my sons, you three should know better than to laugh at our servant's airheaded mind-"

And as he said that, their smiles begin to disappear and be replaced with frowns and a bit of shame as they become stiff at their father's words.

"- And how inappropriate of you, too. To be so distracted in the presence of your masters, that's quite rude don't you think?"

But as he continued their bodies begin to relax once again as they realize he wasn't focusing on them- He was focusing on you.

Words have completely disappeared from your vocabulary as you start to think that maybe you won't be able to see another day after their meal is over. You try to mumble some possible responses before getting interrupted by him once again.

"- It's very rude, so very rude in fact that I think we deserve some answers. What were you so distracted about? What were you thinking that could have possibly taken over your small little head?"

Right now, he was sounding a bit condescending, thankfully not as angry as he would have been with the other servants right about now. Every little mistake was used as excuses for punishments- And if you were walking on thin ice before, right now you are one-step closer to breaking this entire lake and getting yourself killed by the freezing temperatures of the water below you.

Thanks to your luck (or maybe lack thereof, depending on how you see this) Daniel came to "your rescue" by coming up with an excuse for you.

"- Maybe they were hungry." He said without any indications of it being a joke or a lie- As the youngest yet craziest of the bunch, he always had that weird "naive yet dangerous" energy coming from him. He was naive enough to make that statement when it's very clear that you actually despise being near them, but he still was a son of Dimitrescu.

You know better than to underestimate any of these people.

The Lord didn't seem completely convinced as he side eyed Daniel who was blissfully eating his meal without acknowledging his dad's glance or his brother's looks of disapproval.

Without a warning you were pulled closer by your wrist and forced into sitting next to the Lord, who made a sign for another servant to bring you your food. This… Doesn't feel right at all, you're waiting for the worst to come yet you don't feel like you can ever prepare yourself enough for what they have in store.

"- M-My Lord- This isn't needed, I'm fine. I'll just continue my duties, if you can excuse me-" You plead, while trying to get up from your chair.

"- Oh but what host would I be if I didn't take better care of my guests? Poor thing, you must be starving if you can barely serve us wine-" And as his tone gets progressively more sarcastic and a bit louder, you can hear his sons snickering from the other side of the table, but you can't see them since you can't take your eyes away from him.

You're worried that if you look away for just one second, that you may not be able to see ever again.

"- It's so sad when one of our guests feels hungry- What's worse is when we are also very, very hungry."

"- Thirsty, even!"

"- Oh, I can feel my throat drying just at the thought of such misery!- Our dinner seems to be ruined."

You hear their whispers, you hear how they are clearly joking about this- How overly dramatic they're being over something so miniscule as you just- Ignoring them.

Let me remind you this is all because you refuse to look them in the eyes, that you refuse to give them any satisfaction for the heinous things they have done! You've seen so many people get hurt inside this castle only for their sick and twisted thirst and entertainment.

"- Indeed, my boys. My appetite is ruined, though dinner is not over yet-" Lord Dimitrescu spoke as he looked at his sons clearly enjoying your inevitable pain, but before he could continue he turns himself to you again, putting a hand on your arm and saying:

"- Wouldn't you agree?" Loud enough so that his sons could hear it, but soft enough to send the tiniest shivers down your spine.

"- …!"

"- No, no- Please, not again!-" He wouldn't dare do this, would he??

But before you could react he had already done it, you barely noticed how fast he had grabbed that knife to slice your wrist- His hand firmly gripping your arm as he made a deep enough cut so that your blood could be easier to access.

It somehow hurts just as badly as the first time his sons have stabbed your ankles and dragged you across the floor- At least you're not bumping into things like before, and even if it's a deep cut it's not as big as it could be if he used his claws to actually do this.

Oh, oh those claws- You almost thought he would use them on you… Those were something else. You can't remember exactly what happened, and why it happened, but you remember seeing him use those on another servant who may have crossed the line at some point.

Well "crossed the line"- More like "casually inconvenienced him". Lord Alcino may act like an incredibly high noble but he acts so childishly and in such an egotistical manner that you are surprised he can even have a castle like this in the first place! You don't remember what the servant has done to be so cruelly dismantled, but you don't doubt that it was for a stupid reason!

You miss that servant actually- Probably the only person who you actually talked with, and the first one to actually taught you how to do your job… You two could have been friends if he didn't intervene.

You briefly remember those moments before getting to experience the most weird sensation of all- Having your bloody cut be licked and sucked on. It hurts and it stings in a way that not only makes you want to cry but to also gag at the thought of you feeding this monster.

You refuse to look at him even in this scenario, you refuse to see him feeding off your blood… Sometimes you wish you were just as poisonous as some species of frogs, poisonous enough to make his mouth burn so he can experience a fraction of the pain he causes to others.

You tried fleeting away, you tried getting up and moving away but his grip on your arm only helped you in getting closer to him- You have your eyes closed as your only option is to cry and muffle your agony.

But as always, he is not satisfied with you just ignoring him. This was supposed to be a lesson, yet you're clearly avoiding your teacher as best as you can- But not today, little flower, you're not getting out of this so easily.

This is the first time he ever got to really taste your blood, as normally you would be behind the other servants while trying to learn how to please him, the only moments where he gets to see you is when it's dinner time, but oh- You're just so cruel!

Escaping inside your own little head while he has to content himself with just your image. Your presence is very much appreciated around this hour, little one-

He has noticed this before, of course, but it was only when he noticed his son's curiosity over the way you behave around them that made him organize this little trap. He didn't have everything planned actually, his plan only involved getting to this moment no matter what- And oh boy, has luck been on his side!

Your blood tastes better than expected of a commoner, your delicate and fearful whines of pain are just as delightful but what really gets him is this tough persona you try to convince everyone you have- You despise him, and it's clear to see why- But he knows his charms will probably work on you one way or the other.

He gripped your face trying to make sure you'll get to him in the eyes as he has a taste of you. Absolutely delicious, especially after you so gracefully "ruined" their dinner.

His sons were just watching as they continued to drink from their crimson glasses. They were just enjoying the show, as everything seems to easily amuse them- Their father was just showcasing how they were so much better than the common folk, and they have no other option but to take notes and to remember what they have to do if they ever feel ignored by the servants in the castle: Show who are the true masters of this place.

None of them were really interested in drinking from you, considering how all three seemed to recognize how their father has taken a liking towards you. No one would dare mess with their father's prey.

If you had enough strength in you, you would start vomiting as soon as this has started, but the more he takes from you the more you feel like you can barely stay conscious.

He wasn't supposed to take so much, at least not so soon- He wanted to just take a sip but he can't deny the fact he would rather drown himself in your blood than to let go.

He sighs, as he notices that you're slowly getting less and less aggressive, getting more and more tired as he drains you from this cut.

You're not unconscious yet, just barely stable enough to understand what's going on.

"- Sigh… Now that was a decent enough meal." He can't praise you for being tasty, can't have you being cocky around him.

"- Here, since I'm done here I'll take you to the servant's living quarters- And because I'm so kind I'll make sure that wound is safely secured and cleaned, so here- Come along now."

And as he stood up he offered you his hand so you could get up yourself, but you don't have enough energy to walk yourself to your room, thankfully you're already ready to go to bed and wish to never wake up again.

And as the nightmare never ends, he decides that if you are going to be difficult then you leave him no choice but to carry you there. How much has he taken from you?? Jesus, he should learn some self-control before doing this again- The absolute brute that he is.

Your vision may be a little screwed over because of the lack of red cells running through your body at the moment- But you have a weird feeling that you two aren't heading towards the servant's living quarters, as you feel like you two are quite literally going in the opposite direction.

Oh but it's fine- Right?

It'll be fine. Surely. After all, he already took what he wanted from you, and he doesn't seem to need more so- You probably won't have to worry about anything right now, dinner time is already over, you can finally relax now….

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

So I'm sick again- Sorry y'all, I just have a horrible immune system and I really don't understand what is wrong with me-

I'm sorry if you didn't like this boo :(

[sgrdoll]

Tranquility - Chapter 3

Prologue  Chapter 1  Chapter 2 

warnings - murder, death, drugs, mafia/gang talk, extremely detailed scenes of torture and death, dark!reader, dark!steve, dom/sub undertones, dom!steve, sub!reader, brat!reader, knives, guns, other weapons, EXTREME GORE

THIS IS A DARK FIC. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. THIS IS EXTREMELY GRAPHIC PLEASE TAKE INTO ACCOUNT YOUR MENTAL HEALTH FIRST

18+

it took me forever to write this and i dont even think i am in love with it. forgive me if its not amazing! enjoy dolls

wc: 2.7k

After Charlie’s nap they headed out into Brooklyn. Steve didn’t drive, instead a boy named Peter did. Peter was small and seemed nice enough. He had short dark hair and seemed nervous in Steve’s presence. They weren’t in the Volvo like they were yesterday. Instead they drove in a black SUV with extremely tinted windows. The backseat was incredibly roomy and provided enough space for Charlie to put her feet in the leather seats comfortably.

The small dark headed boy drove them silently without an attempt to make conversation, which Charlie appreciated. She was still reeling from her 4 a.m. excursion this morning. Steve was also quiet but seemed to be texting someone on his phone. He was always busy doing something. 

Peter dropped them off on a busy street and Steve told Charlie to hold onto him throughout the crowd. Steve was scared he would lose Charlie in the wildness of New York. He had been around the city for a while so he was a pro at maneuvering through the hoards of people that crowded the streets. Charlie, however, had never been in the city before so this was a completely new experience for her. She looked at the tall buildings in awe and stared at the cast of characters that walked by her. Everyone seemed to be doing something interesting. 

Charlie followed Steve into a store that she couldn’t remember the name off the top of her head but it was filled with all sorts of clothing items in every style imaginable. The inside of the store was black brick and very trendy looking.

Charlie gravitated towards the back of the store that held jeans. She never really wore pants but wanted to try them on. She picked up a couple of pairs that were her size and headed to the changing room. 

Charlie thought they were cute, but wanted to stick to her typical style. Jeans proved to be rather uncomfortable in her opinion. She took her time trying on every piece of clothing that tickled her fancy. Charlie was having a blast picking out different items to try on, even if she knew she didn’t want to take them home.

She grabbed anything she wanted to buy and took it up to Steve to hold while she went back to pick more out. Charlie eventually finished and grabbed Steve’s hand to lead him to the checkout area. Charlie didn’t pay attention while the saleslady rang up the mountain of clothes that was placed on the counter. She wandered around the little trinkets that sat as a display. Steve took out his card and paid while keeping an eye on Charlie and making sure she didn’t stray too far.

“Next store!” She announced giddily at Steve while they walked out together.

He laughed and smiled, “Remember to hold my hand on the street, okay?” 

Charlie rolled her eyes and grabbed his hand. They dropped the bags off with Peter and he put them in the trunk while Steve and Charlie kept trekking toward the next store. 

The pair walked into the boutique directly to the right of the one they were previously in. Steve dropped her hand and let her roam the new environment. She looked like a kid in a candy store and he thought it was precious. It was likely Charlie didn’t get very many new things when she lived at home which made this a novel experience for her. 

Charlie quickly ran through this store and picked up an assortment of shoes, skirts, sweatshirts, and accessories. It took less time than the previous since she had already gotten the majority of her new wardrobe. 

Meanwhile, Steve sat in one of the plush chairs that was placed in front of the dressing room curtains and watched her frolic around the store.

 “I think we have enough for today,” Steve commented once they finished in the checkout line. 

Charlie almost pouted but decided to let it go considering his generosity towards her today.  

“Can we get a coffee?” She asked him with those big wide eyes of hers.

“Of course. I could use one too. I think there’s a place around the corner.” 

Charlie smiled, she couldn’t remember a day where she had so much fun. Steve was being so exceptionally kind to her. Charlie felt almost indebted to him, despite the reason he was doing this for her was as a reward for killing a man for him.

Instead of grabbing his hand as they walked down the street, Charlie grabbed a fistful of his black jacket. Steve looked down at her and smiled and she looked up and returned the gesture. 

Steve opened the door for her and a little bell chimed when they walked into the store. The coffee shop was a welcome change from the chaos of the streets outside. It was quiet, apart from the whir of the milk frother and grinding of the espresso machine. 

“Iced black?” Steve asked her while the two walked up to the counter. 

Charlie nodded and he ordered for the both of them. It turned out that they both took their coffee the same way. 

They took a seat in one of the brown vinyl booths near the door when they got their coffees.  

“Are you having a good time?” Charlie nodded her head enthusiastically while taking a sip of her coffee, “This is probably the best day of my life!”

Steve loved the excitement in her voice. He wanted to hear her voice filled with happiness for the rest of his life. 

“I was talking to Nat before we left and she said you might enjoy getting your nails done,” Steve suggested. 

“I’ve never had my nails done before. I don’t know what it’s like.” 

“That’s okay. You don’t have to if you don’t want to. Nat said you might enjoy it though. You can get cute little designs on them,” he tried to convince her. 

Steve wanted to give her a day to remember. He wanted her to look back on this day and see it as wonderful, despite what she had to do this morning. Maybe spoiling her would make her forget about the murder he asked her to commit for him. 

“Maybe I could try. Can I look up some designs on your phone?” 

“I keep forgetting you don’t have your own phone. We need to deal with that today as well,” Steve said while fishing his phone out of his pocket and passing it to her across the table. 

Charlie looked up cute nail designs on his safari app while Steve watched on. She decided on black french tips. She was a little scared to be any more adventurous than that. 

“Natasha also told me where we should go to get them done. We already have an appointment,” Steve said when she was finished choosing her nail art. 

Charlie didn’t even bother questioning how he got an appointment that fast so she just smiled and took her coffee with her as they walked out of the calm of the coffee shop and back out into the wilderness. 

The nail salon wasn’t on the same street as the clothing stores and coffee shop so Peter had to come pick them up. Peter took them about ten minutes away from where they previously were. 

Steve barked orders to Peter that Charlie didn’t pay much attention to what he was saying and focused on playing with Steve’s large fingers. She found it relaxing in the midst of the chaos. 

Peter dropped them off and they walked down the street to the nail salon Natasha told Steve about. The words Luna Nail Lounge were in pretty script on the front of the building. Steve and Charlie walked in and the nail techs immediately took the two to the private room in the back. The room was quiet and had a massage chair for both Steve and Charlie. There were fairy lights hanging in the room as well as small pieces of art on the walls. 

Steve showed the nail tech what Charlie wanted and they got started. There was one nail artist assigned to each of Charlie’s hands so the process would go by a lot faster. “Acrylic?” The nail tech asked Charlie while filing her nails. “Yes, please,” she answered politely. 

Steve made small talk with Charlie about what she wanted to do with her room while the nail artists continued their work. 

“I think a gray and pink theme would be cute,” Charlie answered while leaning back in the massage chair provided for her. 

“It would match the house too,” Steve replied, “Maybe we could even add a desk for you to take up hobbies or something.”

Charlie laughed, “I don’t do very much. I like animals and reading and that’s all I think.”

“Well, we can get you a bookshelf and a big cat tower for the cat I promised you.” 

Charlie beamed, “I’m so excited! Are we doing that today?” 

“If you’re still up to it we can. I picked out a shelter we can go to when you finish up here.” 

“Thank you so much. Everything today has been amazing. Will there be a reward after everything I do for you?” Charlie asked Steve innocently.

Steve laughed heartily at the stunned expressions on the nail artists’ faces. They likely thought she was his sugar baby, when in reality she was his tiny hitman. 

“We need to talk about our little deal when we get home,” Steve told her. 

Charlie’s face deflated and her heart stopped beating for a second. This was it for her in her mind. He was done and didn’t need her help. She was going to have to go to the home her dead father’s body was in. Charlie was not going to allow that to happen under any circumstances.

Charlie vowed that she would prove herself to him. She refused to let Steve leave her behind, not after she had lived in the luxury he provided. Even if she had only lived it for one day, she could not go back to the home she grew up in. She would be the most obedient, kind, perfect, angel for him from now on. 

Steve saw the expression on her face and his eyes widened, “Woah, woah. What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing.” 

Charlie’s response was stony and didn’t give away much. 

“I’m not upset with you, if that’s what you’re thinking. You’ve been perfect this whole time. We’ll talk in the car.” 

After he said that, it was silent. No one spoke and Charlie’s chest filled with anxiety while the nail techs finished her acrylics. 

They put on the nail oil and told her to wash her hands. Charlie did as they asked and then walked back into the front of the salon. 

Steve paid quickly and they went to the car that was waiting for them outside. Steve sighed, “I am not mad at you at all. All I want to talk about is our arrangement.” “What about it?” Charlie questioned while playing with her new acrylics. 

“I just want you to know that you don’t have to do it. I don’t want you to feel forced into doing that stuff. I thought it would be easier at first but now I feel terrible I put you through that,” Steve said with sincerity laced in his voice. 

“Why? It didn’t really upset me. I didn’t feel anything when I hurt Alex,” Charlie spoke with her head tilted innocently. 

“Maybe not. But I don’t want you to do that stuff or see that stuff. One time was enough. I can’t make you do that again.” Tears blurred Charlie’s vision, “Please don’t make me go back,” her voice cracked. 

Steve’s heart broke, “Charlie, I am not going to make you go back there. You are staying with me. We can find something else for you to do. I like having you around, you’re nice company.” She wiped her tears away, “Please don’t get rid of me, Stevie.” 

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” 

Charlie still felt like her heart was in her throat on the drive to the shelter. Her hands were shaking and her anxiety was through the roof. Steve paused before they got out of the car, “I am never ever letting you go, I promise. Let’s go look at the cute cats and calm down a bit, yeah?” 

Charlie nodded and they walked inside. The weight in her chest slowly dissipated while they started to look at all of the cats ready for adoption. 

She pointed at basically every cat they went by and Steve silently prayed he didn’t have to get all seventy cats to appease her, knowing damn well he would do it in a heartbeat. 

Charlie stopped several times to coo at the kittens that were out. Steve couldn’t deny how adorable they were. 

Steve told the shelter staff they didn’t need any help while Charlie picked up one of the tiny kittens from a box. 

“She’s so cute, Stevie. I love her,” she declared. 

“I think she’s too young to take home right now,” he said.

Charlie sat her down gently and continued roaming around the shelter in search of the perfect cat. She finally stopped and gasped. 

“She’s so fluffy!”

The cat she was pointing to was a long-haired black elderly cat. The tag on the front of the cat’s cage said she was around seven years old. Her name was also on the tag, Ruby, it read. 

“Excuse me,” Steve called to the shelter staff, “Can we see this one?” 

Someone from the staff scurried towards them and opened Ruby’s cage up. Ruby opened her eyes and looked at Charlie and Steve. 

Charlie stuck her hand out for Ruby to smell. The black cat smelled her hand and rubbed her pink nose against it. Charlie started scratching behind her ears and she purred loudly. Ruby stood up from her sitting position and pressed against Charlie’s hand, as if asking for more pets. Charlie happily obliged while Steve watched the pair. 

Charlie continued doting on the cat and Steve disappeared to go speak with a worker about adopting Ruby. 

“Ruby is our oldest cat here. I am so glad to see her getting adopted,” one of the staff members commented while helping Steve fill out the papers. 

Steve was already prepared for a cat to be in the home. He had ordered Peter to pick up several cat towers and various litter boxes to be placed around the house. Steve wanted Charlie to pick out the cat's toys and collar from the pet store down the street. 

Steve walked back over to Charlie, “Are you ready to take her home?”

“You adopted her already?” She asked happily. 

Steve nodded and a worker came behind him to put her in a pink carrier for a safe trip home. 

“I think a collar and toys can wait until tomorrow. Ruby should get acclimated to the house and I don’t want to stress her out by making her stay in the car for any longer than she has too,” Steve said. 

Charlie agreed and they walked out with Ruby in her carrier. Charlie was so excited to finally have a cat. She wanted to give Ruby the best life she could possibly have.

In the car, the ball of fluff slept through most of the ride with only a few little meows. She proved to be a very good car passenger. She only got a little fussy when the car had to stop and start to accommodate the gate opening. 

Charlie was excited for Ruby to explore the big house. She was sure she would love all of the space there. 

When they walked through the doors of the house Charlie gently sat Ruby’s carrier on the couch in the living room and slowly unzipped it. Ruby stayed in the carrier for a moment but sniffed the air curiously. She didn’t seem to be scared of her new home. The cat slowly stepped out and hopped down onto the rug beneath her. 

Steve and Charlie both watched her walk around and sniff everything. They both seemed to be amazed by the sweet creature’s presence. 

While watching the cat Charlie turned to Steve, “Thank you for today. I mean it. I think this was the best day of my life. You have shown me so much kindness.” 

Steve’s heart melted, “I loved seeing you so happy today. I also already love Miss Ruby.” 

Charlie giggled and leaned her head on his shoulder, “I do too.”