#but just know reader is not truly me until this happens | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

softlee · 2 days

Text

;Submission to Coquette - lee minho.

Pairings: Lee Minho x Reader

Word Count: 7.3K

Genre: pwp (well maybe just a little plot), smut, fluff, established relationship, domestic relationship!AU

Synopsis: You take on the challenge of making your boyfriend "Coquette". Will you succeed? Minho only has so much patience when you request him to be submissive. So, ultimately trying to tie him up and use him might be his breaking point.

Warnings: Minho constrained in pink ribbon. Do I really need to add more? Grinding, Bondage via ribbon I suppose, squirting, light dirty talk, reader attempts to be dominant but really how far can that go with Minho? Oral (female and male receiving), and Minho shenanigans (minho just being minho).

Notes: I was supposed to finish this at the beginning of the year when the coquette trend came out on Tiktok. This trend on TikTok IMMEDIATELY made me think of Minho, I just think this theme fits him perfectly. I mean? When I saw this picture on TikTok of this guy in ribbon my mind immediately went to Minho. I hope you guys enjoy it cause I know I did making it :)

Here's a TikTok off the overall idea/theme of this fanfic: here

ENJOYYYYY :D

With the telling ding of Minho’s cellphone in his left pocket on his way home from work, he already had an inkling on who the sender was.

It was, as he suspected, a message from you—his girlfriend, his girl, his lover, his other half.

But to you? No, you were only his errand runner when it came to things you needed before he made his familiar trail back to your shared apartment.

You: I know you don’t wanna go but can you pleaseeeeeeee get me some pink ribbon before you come home? :) [4:56 PM]

Minho lets out an agitated sigh before washing his hand over his disgruntled worn out face; A repercussion of his stressful day at the office.

He waited for you to finish typing your thoughts because he knew you weren’t done.

You are his other half after all.

You: Please? It’s for you xox [4:57 PM]

“It’s for me?” He exaggeratedly stated in his mind while he skillfully dogged a piece of gum on the sidewalk before trudging forward more.

He scoured every crevice of his mind to come up with the most plausible reasoning as to how himself and pink ribbon correlate in some way.

After a few determined seconds of thinking, he came to the conclusion that there were none and therefore, there was no way in hell he was stopping at the store for pink ribbon of all things. It just wasn’t going to happen. Minho was stubborn and if he set his mind to something, it was going to stay that way. Forever.

Minho isn’t one to be easily swayed.

“I can’t believe you actually stopped to get the ribbon for me!” Minho is greeted at the door of your shared apartment with a love bomb attack. Arms and legs hurling towards him until they somehow get caught into his arms, you attached with them funny enough.

You’re hugging him, and kissing him like this is the last moment you are together. Peppering his nose, forehead, and cheek with kisses before Minho becomes overstimulated by all the touching and he’s grunting in protest and faking a look of annoyance, face scrunching like he’s trying to get away from your assault of love.

He’ll truly never admit it to you but this part of the day, almost like the day was mirroring itself every weekday was his favorite part; you meeting him at the door once you got the satisfying notification that your boyfriend was back home.

Pecking him all over his face like you were some kind of bird.

He’ll never admit it.

The bag with the ribbon of course fell onto the ground when you flung yourself onto him.

Minho with his cat like hearing of course hears this, not even looking.

“Look you probably messed the ribbon up by the way you violently threw yourself at me. It’s almost like you don’t even want it.“ He teases, feeling you slither your way out from the corner of his neck to fully make eye contact with him. The little smirk he has plastered all over his face is slyly gone once you're peering at him.

“Of course I want it! I was just excited to see you! I haven’t seen you all day.“ You whine a little before Minho gives you a glaring stare, of course none other than to surprise you with a peck to the lips, softly letting you down onto the hardwood floor.

You quickly swoop to floor level to retrieve the bag with your latest conquest, discarding the bag and holding the spool of pretty pink silk ribbon in your hands before you wiggle your eyebrows in what he would expect to be a playful way.

“This.” You point at the ribbon, “is going on you.” You smile enthusiastically, pulling your boyfriend by the arm to walk him over to the couch.

He feigns annoyance, throwing his head back in an exaggerated way while making an ungodly noise. He looks like a little boy who is being dragged by his mother because he’s gotten in trouble.

“Can I at least eat first? I'm tired and just got back from work.” Indirectly trying to crawl his way out of whatever the hell you were trying to do; Minho wasn’t going to let you win without a fight. That’s just how he’s always been. He’ll nag and nag some more, but since he loves you, he'll eventually give up.

Right?

“I promise if you do this for me right now, I’ll make you something yummy.” You traverse your eyes on his own, watching as you get no physical reaction out of him.

He plops down onto the couch.

You stand in front of him, both hands on your hips quicking scanning your brain to figure out what exactly you can make to get him to comply.

Suddenly a light bulb switches on in your mind and you gleam, crawling into your boyfriend's lap, disregarding the ribbon on the side of the couch for right now.

Throwing your hands around his neck, “How about ramen and kimchi? I think we still have some kimchi left over.” You swivel your head over to the direction of the refrigerator. In comparison, Minho refuses to acknowledge you on his lap, the dinner choices, and how you on his lap is suddenly clouding his judgment.

You turn back to face him.

“I’ll make you some pork belly too?” Suddenly Minho is intrigued, giving you his full-facing attention before a little smirk takes over his face, unable to contain how good that sounds in reality.

Suddenly intrigued by the music in the background he didn’t seem to hear at first, he looks at the TV behind you.

“Were you just about to play Fortnite before I came in?” He randomly asks in the midst of you discussing dinner options.

Brows twisted in confusion for a second, they return to their natural state when you remember that you were indeed about to play Fortnite.

“Oh, yeah I was. The season is almost over and they had Poison Ivy in the Item Shop! I had to get her and play a couple of matches with my new skin!” You protest, feeling the warmth of your boyfriend’s arms slide around your waist, fastening you to his body.

He displays a toothy grin at your comment. “You’re such a nerd.” Yet when he states this comment, you see nothing but love in his eyes. You smile as well, not about to let him get away with his words.

“Well, you can’t be the one to talk! You also-”

“Fine, I’ll do it. Now hurry up before you change my mind.” He suddenly states, grasping the ribbon in his palm before he looks up to literally see you light up at the words.

That’s all he had to say, you immediately withdrew yourself from the warmth of Minho’s lap, telling him to stay put while you go to collect a few necessary items to make your dreams come true.

You come back in record time, three minutes; Minho watches the array of items engulfed in your arms as you make it back to the sofa of your living room, dropping the items onto the coffee table as if they were somehow heavy.

“Alright,” You grab the black shirt from the assortment on the table, “Let’s put you into this shirt first.”

You turn the shirt inside out, showing him that it indeed wasn’t a plain black shirt like he thought. It was decorated with the words, ‘I love my girlfriend’ right where the top of his chest would be centered if he were to put it on. The word ‘love’ instead being a familiar red heart.

He chuckles out of bewilderment, eyes turning into your favorite half moons.

“When did you get this shirt for me?” He’s intrigued.

“I got it about a week ago in preparation for this exact moment!” You wink at him softly, getting closer to him sitting on the sofa.

“So you’ve been planning this huh?” His eyes are wide, trying to figure out exactly what your evil plans had in store for him.

He tries to grab for the shirt so that he can put it on, but you bring it closer to yourself, shaking your head.

“You said you were tired right? I’ll put it on for you.” He throws his arms down, somehow not making a fuss about you doing this for him.

“Wowwwww,” you’re amazed, he’s glaring whilst he holds his arms up above his head, waiting for you to pull the shirt he’s been wearing all day, off.

You reach for the ends of his shirt, pulling upwards, “You’re so obedient right now.” You tease, getting him out of his shirt before you reach for the one you’re exchanging it for.

You’re now sitting down on his lap again, looking up at him while you get the shirt into formation so you can pull it over his head. He obviously didn’t like what you stated, his dark brown eyes beaming intensely into your own.

You look down quickly to run away from them, meeting direct eye contact with his bare chest. He was definitely getting more toned, the lines of his abs becoming more visible.

Before you could let his naked upper body distract you, you decide to pull the shirt over his head, and watch as you pull each arm one by one into the short sleeves.

His hair gets ruffled in the process, looking like he just woke up from a nice long nap.

“Cute.” You giggle at this, before you smooth his hair out, back to its familiar state before you’re taking him all in with the shirt now on, smiling again.

Minho of course doesn’t like such comments, narrowing his eyes and trying to make himself more intimidating by giving you his signature gaze; eyebrows furrowed and lips in a tight line.

It doesn’t work on you though, he just looks even cuter earning a hearty chuckle at your motion as you throw your head back.

You turn around in his lap, eyeing the other items plastered on the table as well. You lose balance a little while doing this, so as Minho does with his quick reflexes, he wraps his arms around your waist.

“Next,” You grab an assortment of your most valuable plushies. “I’m gonna put these around you before we start.”

Minho’s eyes washes over your brightly colored plushies; Kuromi, Hello Kitty, and some other bunny looking creatures he’s forgotten the name’s of. Regardless, he watches you in fascination as you start to place each plushie, one by one onto the sides of him, in the corner where his left shoulder rests, and one remaining one (one of the bunnies) in between where you and Minho meet on his lap.

He raises one eyebrow.

“So, where does the ribbon come in with all of this?” He questions, your hands reaching behind you on the table once more to secure the scissors in your hands.

You also obtain the ribbon that fell between the cracks of the couch cushions, before you gleam at him. “Right now actually. I’m going to make you coquette.”

You gleam.

“Coquette?” He’s so puzzled he manages another smirk, letting out a breathless chuckle.

You hum in agreement, delicately brushing a hair that has decided to fall where Minho’s left eye lays, his eye twitching in the process.

“I saw this Tiktok trend where girls would tie their boyfriends up with ribbons, and put bows made of ribbon on them. I’ve been wanting to do the same to you in private…. and hopefully get some pictures out of it.” You gulp after saying the last sentence. You look down to see that Minho has now closed his eyes. He breathes exaggeratingly outwards, almost like he’s trying to compose himself.

“So, you’re doing this because really you want to see me tied up and you want pictures of that?” You instantly turn red, quicking seeking cover into his neck to hide how shy you feel when you say, “Yeah, I think it’s hot. It’s one of the things I’ve always wanted to do to you.”

No matter how hard you sometimes tried to hide your motives Minho always saw right through them. He can read you like a book, and that’s truly why you always just plainly tell him what you’re doing before you do things.

You slowly uncover yourself from the shelter of his neck, finally peering at him to discover he already is, “One of the things?”

Too embarrassed to even mention what else you’ve always wanted to do to him, you reposition the scissors and ribbon in your hands and start measuring how big you want the bows to be. “Hmmm, how many should I put on you?” You successfully dodge the remark as he crosses his arms, glaring at you and your lack of response.

You squint your eyes while looking over his figure, deciding mentally to place two bows on him while tying his arms up.

You hold your left hand out like you're waiting for him to give you something.

“Give me your arms so I can tie them up.” You demand.

Intrigued, Minho does as you say. “How would you like me to place them?”

Demonstrating, “Lay them flat out where the sides of my hips are.” The warmth of his touch suddenly surrounds your body once more, Minho covering all of your senses. His perfume still lingering from the reminisces he covered himself in this morning before heading to work, his magnetic gaze that was locked on you and your movements, his voice which suddenly woke you out of your Minho heightened trance, and as for taste….well you were already craving him in more ways than one since he was being like putty in your hands right now.

His lenient mannerisms and compliancy this evening were working you up in all the right ways.

“I’m waiting for you to tie me up?” His voice continues. It startles you in some way, never imagining you’d hear those words come out of your mouth. His brow ticks.

“Oh…right.” You begin lacing the ribbon in a tying motion, starting just short of where his biceps start.

Minho wasn’t one to be submissive. Everytime you guys engaged in sex, he always naturally was the one to take control. It was just in his nature and it was just in yours to be more submissive, complying to almost anything he proposed. And of course, you thoroughly enjoyed it.

Although, after being together for about a year and two months, you were ready to try something new. Unbeknownst to Minho, you are actually a switch. Yet after the beginning of your relationship you retired that part of yourself naturally when it came to him, since he was very dominant.

So when you found this trend, you got the sudden urge to try something new and spice up your sex life with your boyfriend.

And it wasn’t like you guys were vanilla, but you usually stuck to the things that were not foreign to you as a couple. But, you were ready to step out of that comfort zone.

And right now, it seems like Minho isn’t too opposed to such an idea. That gives you the confidence to continue.

You finish your makeshift confinements on your boyfriend’s arms by cutting and wrapping the ribbon in a bow before you admire your handiwork.

You softly smile in satisfaction.

“Alright, now I’ll make a few more bows and stick them to you in different areas.” You look back down at Minho’s arms, “Is it tight or can you easily get out of the ribbon?”

“I mean, I can’t really get out of it, but if I wanted to then yeah I could.” He answers vaguely before humming, agreeing with himself.

You narrow your eyes, deciding to trust him.

You make the two bows you plan to plant on him and then begin to place them.

Taking one of them and putting them on his head, he just stares at you as you manage to securely place it on his black hair so it isn’t easy for it to fall off. Then lastly, you settle with putting the last ribbon in a peculiar spot. Right on his crotch.

You press it in for good measure, causing Minho to simultaneously move his hands to grip your ass as he lifts his hips, somehow to chase the feeling of your hands ghosting over his dick. He clears his throat after showing a sign of weakness, looking away from you but not shying his hands away from your ass.

He actually chooses to grip onto it harder.

You tilt your head in feigned curiosity and innocence.

“You alright?”

He seems dazed because he doesn’t answer you for a beat.

“Hmm? Yeah, I’m good. What made you choose to place it there?” He questions, now looking up and directly into your irises.

You shrug, actually not having a particular reason. You just wanted to see how he would react.

You hum to yourself like you’re somewhat proud of your work.

“So coquette.” You drop this outlandish word again, Minho having enough of not understanding exactly what the hell it means.

“What? What does that even mean?”

“It just means you look pretty I guess. I don’t really know what it means either. It’s just a Tiktok trend.” You slowly start rubbing your hands over his shoulders, letting them fall downwards into his lap. You decide to unleash yourself of his hold by standing up quickly.

You search for your phone, grabbing it off the coffee table and positioning it in front of him to signal you want your photos like promised.

He doesn’t look pleased.

“Give me a pretty smile!” You give an example of your own before you’re waiting for him to repeat the action. It goes by ignored, instead being met with a nonchalant gaze that screams “I’m being held hostage. Please help me.”

You frown.

“Please smile. You’re not aligning with what your shirt says. Don’t you love me?” You whine.

‘Oh, so you’re pulling that card huh.’ He thinks.

He smirks.

“Yeah, I heart you. Just like the shirt says.” He goes for the literal meaning of the shirt, wanting to visibly displease you.

You pout.

“You’re so annoying.”

Finished with the photo torture time, you throw your phone on the other couch in fake irritability, turning to face him yet again while standing.

You give him a glance over and then softly smile, picking up your arms to do away with your shirt first and then your pants. You were wearing just some comfortable clothing; An old ‘May the force be with you’ Stars Wars T-shirt paired with the Yoda printed sweatpants you frequented about once a week. It was nothing too fancy of course. What came as a surprise was what was under it.

In preparation for the evening, you wanted to dress up for your boyfriend. Specifically in lingerie. White lingerie.

Whenever you wanted to spice up your sex life, or suprise him, you always took extra care of yourself. This meant taking an “everything” shower, putting on perfume, doing your hair, as well as doing some light makeup. And your choices for lingerie sets always happened to be in the colors you thought that looked best on you; red, black, and sometimes your favorite nude set.

About two weeks ago, Minho suggested that you try a lingerie set in white, as he thought you would also look sexy in that color as well. He liked the other sets, but he thought that color would really look good on you. You were a little hesitant at first, but his suggestion paired with a kiss on your forehead, his credit card, as well as the words “surprise me” were all you needed to go out of your comfort zone.

And hell, it surely did surprise him.

You slowly saunter up to him, getting right back into your claimed spot, his lap (throwing the bunny plushie somewhere else on the couch), and wrap your arms around his neck.

“Do you think this color fits me babe?” You rapidly bat your eyelashes, obviously fishing for compliments. Minho's annoyance from earlier, sleepiness, and hunger completely fades away. His mouth slowly parting in awe.

“Of course it fits you, you look in anything. God.” He groans, trying to take you all in.

It was a simple dainty set. A white ribbed corset top with shoulder straps as bows which you tie at the shoulder. There was a collage of cotton flowers joined at the middle of the top, a decorative touch to the already light and airy feel of the lingerie. The bottoms were plain panty underwear, the same cotton flowers in the middle of them as well.

You looked so good. That’s what he thought to himself before he realized that he had to, no needed to touch you. Right now.

Right as he does so, his body moving at will is obstructed by the familiar feel of the pink ribbon you had just adorned to his arms, securing him in place.

“Fuck,” He whines, almost like he’s in pain, “And I can’t even fucking touch you right now?” With all the strength he can muster, he tries to pull outwards to break the ribbon, but he’s too slow. You already knew he’d try something like that, so you, in defense, hold his arms in place.

Suddenly feeling red, you look down.

“You can’t touch me or get out of this ribbon until I say so. You have to do as I say tonight.” Shy, you slowly look up at him again, noticing that his whole demeanor has changed since you’ve uttered those words.

A light airy chuckle escapes him before he can even hide it.

“What, are you controlling me tonight? Gonna use me?”

His teasing tone almost sounds like a challenge. He doesn’t think you can do it. Your confidence grows in opposition.

“Yeah, I’m gonna be the dominant one tonight.” You lean in, ghosting over his lips, “And you won’t cum until I say you can.”

You fully press your lips onto his, pulling him as close as you can by wrapping your arms around his neck again, getting a high off of you being the one to order him around tonight.

It gave you a sense of confidence you’ve never felt when having sex with him, his light moan giving you the confirmation you need to kiss him with a little more fervor.

You slowly begin to start your pace, your hips beginning to gyrate over the crotch of his black jeans. You feel him reach for you, for something, his hands attempting to latch over the bottom of your ass.

You smack his hands away, pulling away from the kiss. He desperately chases. You stop your pace.

“You can’t touch me,” You echo again, “I can only touch you? Got it?” Your palms are covering his own, proving your point that he had to do as instructed or he wouldn’t be able to have you. Not in the way he wanted. He throws his head back, as that's the only disobedient way he can act out right now, his long strands of hair sheltering his eyes.

“Fine, have your way with me. I’ll see how long it’ll truly last. You know you love it when I tell you what to do. When I tell you to fuck yourself on my cock. When I have you cum multiple times on my tongue before I even begin to fuck you. I may not be able to touch you, but I can say whatever I want to you and you’ll be begging me to touch you. ” He mutters, shifting his body deeper into the couch.

His words send a shiver through your body, the remaining of it fading right into your core. Truly, he was right. You loved it when he touched you, it’s how you completely got off. Yet, somehow denying yourself the satisfaction of feeling his touch and edging yourself was making you wetter than you could even believe.

To you, this was foreplay, and getting the privilege of having Minho in this way was what you could only dream for. You couldn't imagine though, even in your dreams, how he would react to you taking control. That’s what led you to this moment, once again leaning back down to the crook of his neck, whispering.

“It’s just something I’ve always dreamed of doing to you. It’s one of the things I’ve been wanting to do with you, to you. Now, let me fuck you my way.” You truthfully speak, setting your motion against the fabric of his pants again.

Your boyfriend stays silent, once before being able to stare daggers into your soul, now avoiding eye contact all together. He was clearly flustered. You could tell because he was starting to fill up the space in his pants, his length slowly hardening below you.

“Awe babe, you’re already getting hard. Tell me how good it feels? Hmm?” You push your pelvis harder into his lap, wanting to get a reaction out of him.

It’s quiet for a moment. Minho desperately tries not to moan to show the effect you have on him before he gains his composure enough to speak.

“Tell you how good it feels? How about you stop this charade and explain why you’re already this fucking wet? I can literally feel it through my pants already.” He spits out through his breathing which is slowly getting shallower and shallower. His ears are red, this is how you could tell he was turned on, even if he wouldn't admit it.

“Of course I’m wet, I have my-” You moan, “My boyfriend in a way I’ve always wanted”

You continue your rebellious movement of your hips against his hardened cock, gasping when it hits your clit in a harmonious way. You look down at your panties, expecting to see your arousal escaping from the thin layer of fabric that is holding you all together.

To your dismay, there was no visible evidence that you were incredibly wet. But, because of Minho’s comment earlier, you decide to take two of your fingers and check, feeling the remnants of your arousal, making you groan.

He watches you in suspicion, noticing the way your fingers were easily sliding over the laced cotton of your underwear. His mouth involuntarily opens in awe.

“Ugh, I’m so wet. I’m gonna use you to cum. You can’t take your eyes off of me, okay?” For good measure, you lightly tease your fingers that you just used to touch yourself over his soft lips, Minho taking no time to lick your wetness off your fingers before you lightly rest your hand under the left side of his chin, forcing him to watch you reach your high.

In reality, you didn’t even need to do this, he was going to observe regardless.

You pick up your pace, grinding up and down and then swirling your hips on his as your moaning gets louder. Your other hand stabilizes yourself on his chest while you begin to melt into your high, the line blurring between where your pleasure starts, and where you end.

Minho throbs below you, eagerly waiting for you to ride out your orgasm.

You cum, staring directly into his eyes, rocking back and forth slower to balance out your pleasure. You sigh as you come back to your senses, your hand balling up into a fist to pull your boyfriend closer to you for an everlasting kiss.

Minho moans into the kiss like he’s cum himself, but truthfully, it was because of the way you just used him to get yourself off. Since he couldn’t touch you, he was feeling very understimulated. He was burning for desire for you, its imminence in the way he still continuously pulses below in your lap as you finish kissing him.

You get up from off of his lap and sit on your knees below him on the floor.

“You’re awfully quiet now, what happened to your cockiness?” You smirk, grabbing an elastic band on the coffee table to collect your hair out of your face.

Your boyfriend decides to stay mute, watching you do away with your hair as you begin to graze your hands up his thighs, your hands meeting at the buckle of his belt.

You unclasp it, looking up at him to see what he’s doing to see that he’s admiring you contently. You look back at your task at hand, pulling at the belt as Minho simultaneously lifts his hips so you can remove it.

Currently, you’re wondering why he is so quiet. Did he finally submit? Was he so stunned at your ability to dominate that he was okay with you having your way with him? Or was it because he was so turned on that he couldn’t speak, his flushed body a solid indicator. But his body always gets slightly red when you guys have sex, so that couldn’t be it.

You don’t let these thoughts bother you anymore, you decide maybe it’s a combination of everything, becoming overconfident in the job that you were doing. You let this spur you on, pulling both his pants and underwear down at once to free his hard cock. He lifts the bottom part of his body, viewing the way you let both articles of clothing to collect at his ankles, not fully taking them off.

You were too focused on what was in front of you, him rock hard. You grab at his length, eyeing him to notice that his breath hitches, your hands beginning an up and down motion.

His hips follow the rise and fall of your delicate hands, his breath quickening. The scene placed in front of you was heating up your body. You’ve never seen him this pliant under your hand, so eager, so willing to follow or let you command or do whatever you wanted to him. You’re not even being touched, yet your breath follows in sync with him, steadily increasing.

Noticing he’s still quiet, it starts to concern you. Trying to busy yourself to distract from his silence, you lock eyes with him once again, noting that he was peering at you before you even were. You softly simper, pushing your head down until you take him all in one go, now breaking eye contact to focus on sucking him.

As you embark on bobbing your head over his throbbing length, multiple things happen at once. At the same time, you hear something snapping and a piece of clothing falling onto the floor. A split second after, you’re moaning over his length, not because it was bringing you pleasure, but because you were being pulled quickly off of his dick. Your eyes go wide once you realize what happened, it comes together when your back hits the arm of the couch with Minho on top of you.

He broke free.

Your mouth is open in shock as his mischievous smile stares down at you.

“Minh-” Calling his name, he managed while freeing himself, to collect the ribbon you had used on him. He was pulling your arms above your head as you were trying to get your sentence out.

Minho successfully traps you in your own game. Similar to him before, your hands were now tied with pink ribbon at the wrist, you bewildered at the whole situation. He changed the game.

He softly pulls you down the couch a little so your arms are comfortable above your head. Then, he leans down to give you a quick soft kiss.

“Got you.” He arrogantly declares, reaching his hand over the table in front of the couch to grab the scissors, so he could cut the endless length of the ribbon he had tied to your wrists.

He places the scissors back onto the table.

“But I was supposed to be the dominant one tonight.” You pout.

“And you did good babe, but you know you love it when I touch you,” He leans in to trail kisses down the corner of your neck, listening as he hears you groan, “and kiss you, “his hands start to graze your body before it gets to your pussy, cupping you between your legs, “and fucking you open with my tongue.” You let out an embarrassing loud moan, not being phased by it since Minho loved to hear you.

His kisses, which stopped just before your covered breasts, continue their pace until he’s leaving a trail down your stomach, purposely skipping over your throbbing core to kiss the inside of your thighs. Your whole back arches off the couch, whining when you can’t push Minho’s head in the place you need him most.

He chuckles.

“Now you see how I felt when I couldn’t touch you hmm? It was killing me watching you grind on me when I couldn’t push your hips or when you took me all the way into your mouth and I couldn’t push your head down.” His kisses start getting closer to your pussy once more.

He teases as if he’s about to kiss your core over the thin fabric of your underwear. Instead, he stops his mouth just before he reaches it, talking right into your heat.

“It’s not fun is it? You better be glad I lasted as long as I did in that ribbon.” He explains, looking directly into your eyes.

You throw a fit, your legs shaking on the sides of him in annoyance because he won’t touch you where you needed him.

He lets you out of your misery finally as you are whining, the whining turning into a satisfied hum when he latches his touch onto the soaked cotton of your underwear. He groans when he tastes you on the material, taking his time to lap up the juices spilling out.

“Touch me.” You cry, rolling your body towards his lips, wanting more.

Minho ticks his brow and lets out an airy chuckle. “I am touching you babe.”

He finds you cute and decides to give in to your requests since he knew what you meant.

He tugs at your underwear which is clinging to the sides of your hips, pulling them down your legs until they're out of the way, throwing them carelessly onto the floor somewhere.

You ache in anticipation for him to mouth at you, watching him get back into position to give you what you desired most at this moment; his mouth fully on you.

The moment his lips kiss softly at your clit, you begin to see stars. He proceeds to lick you straight after, your head throwing back in immense pleasure.

“Fuck,” You groan, your eyes following your head and rolling back.

“Tell me how you feel ___.” He chimes, watching as your body tenses below him. It turned him on to great heights to see you this fucked out, his hips rocking into the couch to relieve himself.

“Good.” You manage to get out between shaky breaths, Minho sucking at your clit before he licks a long stripe across the span of your pussy, him humming into you in satisfaction. You feel the vibration of his groaning below you, adding to the pleasure and washing an intense feeling throughout your body. You were close, and you needed something to grip onto.

Normally, when you were about to cum from Minho eating you out, you had your hands clutching to the back of his hair, pulling him impossibly closer to your pussy. It helped you balance the unstable feeling that overcame your body whenever you were about to release. Now, since your hands were tied, you couldn’t brace yourself. You didn’t know what was about to happen with this knot in your stomach when you were about to release at any second.

All you could do was announce it.

“I-I’m about to cum. Minho, I can’t, I don’t know ho-” You lewdly rushed, your body beginning to shake in cosmic tension.

Too busy with the objective of making you cum, he lifts his left arm out to successfully hold your hand, nonverbally letting you know that he has you and that you’re okay.

The wave of your pleasure strikes down like a tide that is beginning to crash down onto the shore of a beach, strong yet beautiful. It collects into one singular emotion before it releases in one single motion, Minho lapping at your pussy as you let go. Your body spasms as your orgasm comes to its final end, a gush of remaining pleasure that wasn’t released at that one moment, now finally letting go.

With your eyes closed, you try to collect your breathing before you hear your boyfriend louding moaning below you, grabbing your attention. You look down, eyes widening in shock.

Minho’s face was completely wet, a few front pieces of his hair that frames his face damp as well. As you put two and two together, you drop your jaw in collective embarrassment surprise.

You just squirted on your boyfriend’s face.

Because of this stupid ribbon, you can’t even cover your face, having to watch him as his ears quickly become red again, the flushing slowly diffusing to his face.

You physically can't talk right now, not when you just squirted all over his face. It could have been anywhere else, yet it had to be there the first time you squirt. You close your eyes, waiting for him to say something, anything to get rid of this terrible silence.

Quickly, you feel him shuffle and he’s on top of you now, passionately kissing your lips. You slowly start to kiss him back and slowly open your eyes, feeling him grind his bare cock on your wet pussy. You groan before he detaches.

He looks you dead in the eyes.

“I literally had to stop myself from cumming after you just squirted all over my face. Fuck, that was the hottest shit I’ve ever seen in my life. You’re perfect.” He goes in to peck your lips once more before he squabbles off of you a bit to grab the scissors again, cutting away your restraints.

Suddenly, you’re no longer embarrassed. Sharing the same soft loving smile he gives you as he cuts your ribbon off.

He once more places the scissors safely back on the table before he brings his attention back to you, laying on top of you again.

He searches your eyes.

“Got one more orgasm in you? Let me make love to you.” He softly speaks, waiting for your approval. You nod, excited since you can actually grip his hair now and touch him. You’re sure he’s in pain now since he’s been hard for a while. He always makes sure you orgasm first before he does.

He starts by tugging at the left and right bows of your corset top which are keeping it on you. You arch your back, waiting for your boyfriend to unzip the corset so you’re free. He discards it onto the ground. Then he lowers himself and latches onto your left nipple, observing as you wilt in pleasure, you pressing his head down closer as he grips at your right breast with his other hand.

He again grinds his pulsing cock into your center, humming into your tit.

Realizing something, you softly push him off of you. He looks at you concerned.

“My plushies!” You suddenly realized your near and dear plushies were probably getting squeezed on the couch under Minho’s legs. He quickly searches for them, pulling all three from under his weight and putting two of them on the side where your head was, while he remains holding one of them.

“What?” You look at him bewildered like he doesn’t realize how important they are to you. Minho doesn’t understand, so trying to fix the problem, he covers the eyes of the one he’s holding, as if they aren’t supposed to see us naked.

You laugh wholeheartedly, “You’re so weird,” You tease, “I just didn’t want them to get squished before we continued.”

“Oh.” He states, like saving them was the most important thing in the world right now.

Knowing he’s done with you right now because you stopped having sex with him to save your expensive plushies, you push him to sit on the couch below you while you sit on his lap.

“Now, I’ll fuck you since my stuffed animals are unharmed.” You tease before you softly smirk.

You bring your hand to the middle of your bodies, aligning his cock to your entrance before you slowly sit directly on him, taking him all the way in.

He groans, swiftly holding onto your hips to help stabilize you as you bounce on top of you.

You wrap your arms around his neck, now staring at him.

“Now, admit that me being dominant does turn you on.” You playfully suggest, circling your hips on his lap as you continue your pace. You moan, leaning down to kiss his lips before you await his response.

“Of course it turns me on, but-” He holds you harder at your hips. “I just like fucking you more.”

He lifts his hips off of the couch, and begins a ruthless upward pace into you, completely taking you off guard. You hold onto anything you can find, dumbfounded that Minho’s stamina can reach even higher heights.

You moan repeatedly, letting him pound into your pussy below you as you feel another orgasm approaching. You don’t even have to let him know you’re about to cum, he can feel it with the way you go silent, and the sudden tight grip you have around his cock that is also stringing him closer to his own release.

Minho starts to sweat, his stamina even putting a toll on himself. Thank god he and you were about to cum soon.

Your eyes begin to roll back, his pounding finally demolishing you from above him even though you were the one that had the power in this position.

You cum without warning, legs squeezing as close as they can below you as you fall, laying your head into the corner of your boyfriend's neck, utterly spent. Minho keeps up his pace, signaling to himself that now that you’ve cum that he doesn’t have to hold back anymore.

He slows his motion, instead replacing it with a hard lingering pounding into your pussy. He cums just like that, quick and with a loud grunt. He wraps his arms around your back, hugging you softly as he comes back down from his high. He finishes off by pecking your forehead with a soft “I love you” that he didn’t say earlier when you put the shirt on him. You wrap your arms around him in return and squeeze, letting him know you heard him.

After a few minutes of recovering, you leave the comfort of his neck, sitting up in his lap to look into his brown eyes.

He smiles at you. You lift your hand to move the strands of hair in front of his eyes.

Then suddenly, he’s chuckling, then full out laughing.

Your eyebrows twist in confusion.

He speaks.

“You know…we just fucked to the Fortnite loading screen music this whole time?” Refusing to believe him, you listen closely to your surroundings, noticing some music.

Omg, it was the Fortnite loading music.

You throw your head back in a fit of giggles.

“Either way, I’ll be glad to make you squirt again if this is the kind of music that you're into, we can make a playlist.” He teasingly comments.

You playfully hit him softly before you’re covering your face in embarrassment, revisioning the whole encounter with the background music.

This was my first ever fanfic on this account! Let me know what you think! :)

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grind-pantera · 6 hours

Text

Early Morning Headcanons. ( Caesar x Reader, Noa x Reader. )

Don't look @ me I'm in my domestic era.

Caesar.

On average, he tends to wake up at least an hour before you do and he’s courteous enough to let you sleep in further if he thinks you need it. Just kidding, he’d let you sleep in regardless if he thought you needed it or not, he just justifies leaving you in the nest the mornings he actually has something to do by telling himself you need the sleep and that he doesn’t need to wake you.

Often spends that hour in self-reflection, sitting either by himself, or out with Maurice in the common area of the Colony. Not much is said, but enough is felt that Caesar feels proud and accomplished at how far Apes have truly come.

Some mornings though he does find himself dwindling by the nest, watching you sleep. The same sense of pride and accomplishment hit him when he looks at you and how vulnerable you were in your sleep; a testament that you trusted Caesar and you didn't fear your surroundings any longer and that the Colony was considered your home. Caesar… was considered your home.. You truly were the type of human he tried to convince the other Apes about.

Will place his hand on your head, drawing his thick fingers through your hair once or twice before lightly resting his forehead against yours in parting before leaving in the mornings, regardless if you’re asleep or awake. *~When you’re asleep as that happens it occasionally garners Caesar a sleepy smile from you, half conscious, half consumed by sleep as you murmur a rather lazy ‘have a good day’, hand half-heartedly cupping the side of his face before sleep overtakes you again, Caesar draping an animal pelt over you and taking that as his bid to get going. *~The mornings you are awake and he comes to bid you goodbye with the typical forehead touching, you like him to linger knowing that it’s the only affection you were going to get from him until that evening when you two were alone again. And linger he does; occasional morning shenanigans have left him late to a council meeting and late to meet with Maurice, Blue Eyes, Ash and Rocket for hunting. Never had an excuse for them. He doesn’t need one, being the Ape King.

Has slept in; maybe once or twice in the time you have known him. It’s not that he doesn’t want to or wouldn’t like to; in fact, he’s enticed with the idea of falling back asleep when he wakes up and you’re coiled in next to him. The sounds of your breathing, the sensation of warmth hitting like waves, your scent pulling him back under. *~It’s a matter of Caesar’s status. He’s busy; he knows he’s busy, you know he’s busy. And as much as you want him to stay next to you for just a few minutes longer, you surrender to him knowing that he’ll come back to you later that evening.

There are mornings though where you share breakfast. The typical schedule of this is sharing a communal meal with the Colony; that’s how it always was and you thoroughly enjoyed it, getting to know Blue Eyes further, getting to know Ash, Rocket and Maurice-- and to his behest, you knew a bit about Koba as well. But, Caesar noticed your reluctance to do that after laying with you the night before. You explained that you knew the other Apes could smell what you did the night before and you were mildly embarrassed by that, especially when they looked at you and hooted. *~Caesar definitely sees no problem with it, that’s just how it was for him. He was their King, and if they had a problem with it, they could talk to Caesar directly. Not that anyone had a problem. ( Outside of Koba. ) He took his time to explain that to you, just so you understood it was really not a big deal, everyone who was anyone in the Colony could see a pair who just mated without even sparing a glance. It wasn’t a heavily judgmental topic. *~Caesar relinquished though when you were adamant about your embarrassment, being self-conscious of their eyes on you in the moments; Caesar having to remind himself that it was purely a human thing in this situation and it wasn’t meant as a slight towards himself or the other Apes.

He low-key does like the morning breakfasts alone with you. Gives him just that more time to spend with you before the inevitable chaos of the day beckons him outside.

Greatest mornings are the mornings when you pull him to you and let him just go for it without reserve wait who said that.

Noa.

Considers himself to be an early riser, but compared to his mother Dar, or even Soona, he likes to sleep a bit longer. Will wake up on normal days right after dawn regardless of when he went to sleep the night before. ( Which, often, is very late. He likes to stay awake to work on things that could improve life around the village, or his favorite new hobby which was watching you sleep. )

Since taking over for his Father though, Noa does find himself waking up a bit earlier than before to go take care of the Eagles, typically done right before dawn happens. He’s often hopeful he can return back to the nest in silence before you wake up and he can sneak back in with you and be there when you wake up. Some mornings it works like that, and some mornings, Noa is late and doesn’t get his utmost pleasure at seeing you wake up.

Those mornings he is late can go one of two ways: You find him with the Eagles and he is profusely apologetic that he lost track of time or he finds you, already at breakfast with Soona, Anaya and his Mother. ~*When you find him: He does not stop apologizing for not being there when you wake up. Quietly, you place your hands on the side of his head and bring him in closer, lightly resting your forehead on him. He knows you’re understanding of his status, of what he has to do to maintain, and for that, he was forever grateful. He accepts the forehead touch, letting his eyes fall shut for a moment before Eagle Sun starts squawking for attention. Not from Noa, mind you. Eagle Sun enjoys your presence, so much so that Noa finds himself meagerly jealous that his bird would follow you. Only Noa was allowed to do that! ~*When he finds you, it’s a little less intimate as you are already around his familiar base of friends and family. The smile you give him as he sits next to you, ready to eat breakfast always gets Noa in a good mood if he so happened to have woken up in a terrible one that morning. You know what he likes, having already gathered his food for him. Another thing to be grateful for and if you’re lucky and Noa is feeling a bit more bold, he’ll grab the back of your head and bring you in quickly to rest his forehead against yours before proceeding to eat. Just a brief second, and it leaves you reeling every time.

Has been known to sleep in from time to time though. Occasionally after a night of endeavors with you; they just leave him exhausted and he likes the feeling of waking up next to you after he thinks about what you did the night before. Will pull you in closer as you sleep when he recollects. If you’re already awake and he pulls you in to his body in a sleepy haze, Noa is almost guaranteed to be a bit late to anything he has to do that day.

If you find yourself awake before Noa, your favorite thing is to trail your fingers along his back. He does sleep on his stomach, more often than any other position, and those early mornings before the sun pounds down on you to actually get up, you find yourself idly tracing nonsensical shapes upon his shoulder blade. You like how he reacts to it. The muscles, involuntarily reacting to your simple touch, Noa himself? As direct as can be as he raises an arm blindly, eyes still stuck, tucking it around your hips and pulling you towards him, still half asleep. You succumb to his touch and fall into it, either right onto his back, which admittedly Noa really likes the feeling of your weight on him, or right next to him.

If you know Noa needs to wake up, he will not comply. He groans, rather profusely and rolls onto his side, facing away from you as you urge him, hand on his bicep. He's going to be late to meet with Anaya for hunting. Murmuring something that sounds like a small 'can't make me', you try again and lightly nudge his arm. Big mistake and moments later, you are absolutely crushed with the weight of Noa's body rolling on top of yours, a shout of laughter coming from your lips.

#caesar #noa #caesar x reader #noa x reader #caesar pota #noa pota #pota #kotpota #planet of the apes x reader #kingdom of the planet of the apes #andy serkis #owen teague #emmy writes #fanfiction #fanfic

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jinwoosungs · 1 day

Text

{ 180 }

autobiography.

fan!sung jinwoo x author!fem.reader

{ got stains on my t-shirt and i'm the biggest flirt | right now i'm solo, but that will be changing eventually, oh | got bruises on my heart and sometimes i get dark | if you want my auto, want my autobiography | baby, just ask me... }

anonymous said: Brainrot of my day: Imagine an author Reader and Booknerd Jinwoo, when he was still an E rank hunter he liked to read her work lot and when he became a well known hunter she was inspired by him to make a biography about him so she reaches out and imagine how flattered he was when she reached out! His favorite author wanting to make a biography. About him?? EEEEEE

you were absolutely fascinated with the seemingly sudden cinderella story that took the form of a new and upcoming hunter that went by the name sung jinwoo.

with your reading glasses settled across your eyes, you did some extensive research on jinwoo and ran across various news articles detailing all of his latest successes and raids. your hands itched with the desire to open a fresh document and draft everything that you knew about him so far-

ah, but you were getting ahead of yourself.

being a well-known author, you have written a plethora of novels since your early 20s, even managing to reach the bestseller's list quite a few times as well. your face was plastered against the back covers of each novel that you published, and the fans that you had would always recognize you immediately, taking photos with you or asking if you could sign a copy of your novels for them.

you were a mere civilian, but you were incredibly happy that your passion for writing helped give you somewhat of a celebrity status. your name wasn't as well-known as the hunters surrounding the world, but in your opinion, you were known enough by the right amount of people.

as you read through each article and watched the videos that featured south korea's latest, s-rank hunter, you had the desire to somehow reach out to jinwoo himself.

after all, biographies were written with the sole purpose of celebrating that person's life-

so long as you had that person's permission.

you lean back in your seat, grabbing the cup of coffee from your desk as you took a sip of it whilst deep in thought. with your fingertips hovered over the keys once more, you type in the website for the korean hunter's association branch, searching through the site until you reached a section that read most notable hunters.

clicking on the link, you scroll down until you see jinwoo's name. you open up jinwoo's profile and keep scrolling down until you saw his contact information, noticing his email address:

[email protected]

cracking your knuckles, you open your email account and begin typing out your message to the hunter you were desperate to write about.

{ ... }

from: [email protected]

to: [email protected]

subject: would you like a biography written about you?

hello! you may know me as the author of some books, most notably true blue and the aurora syndrome (and if you've never read any of my books, that's okay too!)

long story short, i'm an author and would like your permission to come and meet with you- maybe even interview you and write a biography about you? i am truly so awed by your story and would love to learn more about you!

reply back when you can-

(i really hope you'll agree to meet me!)

signing off~

{ ... }

"HOLY SHIT THIS CAN'T BE HAPPENING TO ME!"

before sung jinwoo could further bask in this unexpected email that he had received, jinho bursts into his office, panic written all over his features as he calls out to him.

"boss, are you alright?! what happened?!"

he could feel the heat traveling up his neck and upwards towards his ears, making jinwoo force a smile when he waves off jinho's concern all while trying to maintain a neutral face. "oh, it's nothing, ah... my favorite soccer team just scored another win and i got really excited."

jinho gives jinwoo a look of suspicion, not quite believing him. however, not one to question his president, jinho shrugs before leaving the office.

"let me know if you need anything, boss, i'll be around."

giving jinho one last (albeit stiff) nod, the hunter waits with bated breath for his vice president to leave before letting out a shaky breath.

"holy shit."

to say jinwoo was freaking out would be the understatement of the century. jinwoo's favorite author of all times had reached out to him (him!) with desires to write a biography about him.

his mind was spinning, and he actually had a copy of the aurora syndrome with him right now. jinwoo adored your stories, but the aurora syndrome held a special place in his heart. in the novel, the protagonist was a young adult who suffered from narcolepsy, and it spoke about their day to day life while dealing with such a disorder.

in many ways, jinwoo could relate to that protagonist (especially during the time where he was still labeled as the weakest hunter in the world), since they were known to be self-conscious and meek, but was slowly able to come out of their shell thanks to the support of their family and friends.

and the same author of such an amazing novel (aka YOU) wished to write a book about him?!

the young hunter's head couldn't stop spinning. he kept pacing around his office, pinching himself every so often to make sure that he wasn't dreaming.

after reading (and rereading) your email at least a hundred times, jinwoo's hands begin to tremble when he goes back to his desktop pc. fingertips trained over the keyboard, he begins typing out his reply to you-

(a feat that ends up taking an hour or so due to the sheer amount of times he had to write and rewrite the same message over and over again to make sure that it was perfect for you.)

{ ... }

from: [email protected]

to: [email protected]

REPLY: would you like a biography written about you?

i am honestly so honored to have you writing a biography about me!

my story isn't much, just a series of events that just proves how lucky i am.

i've taken some time off for you and your interviews, is 2 weeks enough?

reply back when you're able to... and let me know if my arrangements work well for you.

sincerely,

sung jinwoo

{ ... }

you were pleasantly surprised when jinwoo got back to you within mere hours of receiving your email. due to his quick rise in fame, you thought that you would be left on read for at least a month or so.

"hm, perhaps sung jinwoo is more down-to-earth than i expected?"

a strange warmth fills you at the thought, and you truly were grateful to jinwoo for taking the time out of his day to get back to you so quickly.

just as you were going to send another email to talk further about the details, you receive yet another new email notification from jinwoo. curious as to what he sent, you open up his email and felt your eyes going wide in response.

xxx xxx - xxxx | sung jinwoo

call me?

now this was new. were you overthinking things, or was jinwoo actually eager to speak to you?

you shake your head at the thought, feeling a bit flabbergasted yourself. not wanting to squander this amazing opportunity, you take out your cellphone and type in the numbers seen on the screen. with your heart was racing in anticipation, you let out a deep breath before calling the hunter directly.

the other line rings a few times and you were pleasantly surprised to hear jinwoo pick up the phone on its second ring.

"h-hello?" you were dimly aware of the sounds of shuffling on the other end, clearing your throat as you began your end of the conversation.

smiling into the phone, you introduce yourself by full name, "thank you so much for allowing me the pleasure of doing this- ah, of calling you, i mean."

"oh, y-yeah, it's no problem at all!" a series of nervous, high-pitched laughter was heard coming from the other end. "s-sorry for acting w-weird but, i never expected my favorite author to contact me about their desire to write my b-biography."

the warmth seems to spread throughout your body upon hearing his admission. "what? are you kidding me? who wouldn't want to write a biography about you! your story is amazing, mr. sung!"

"jinwoo." his grave voice catches you off guard momentarily.

"ah, wait a minute... you're actually allowing me to call you by your first name?"

"i don't see why not, b-because i assure you, i've admired you for far longer than you have admired me. your novels have truly changed my life."

you felt your smile widen as you continued speaking to him, "and may i ask what books of mine that you have read?"

jinwoo's voice becomes a bit more passionate now, and you listen to him rant about every single novel you had written thus far, a fact that made your cheeks feel warm as an even wider grin spreads across your face.

sung jinwoo had to be your number one fan.

"well mr- i mean, jinwoo, you have just made my day! actually, since you've pretty much read all of my novels, you must know that your biography will be my first time writing a non-fictional story?"

"of course, that's why i can't stop my heart from pounding with excitement. i've always loved you- i mean, your work."

he seems to have realized his slip up, quickly covering it up so that you would not mention it when he asks you if you agreed to spend the next two weeks with him, making you do another yet another double take.

"whoa, seriously? you're letting me meet with you so soon?"

jinwoo's rich chuckle fills you, "of course. knock on wood, but things have been pretty safe lately, with only low level gates appearing. if anything major comes up during the two weeks you are in seoul with me, i can always ask the other s-ranked hunters to deal with it. so are you in?"

truly, who were you to reject such a generous offer?

{ ... }

perhaps jinwoo was a little too excited to see you.

despite all your protests about having him buy you the plane tickets to get to seoul, he did it anyways. he paid for you to have a first class flight while making sure he would be sent updates to where you were at all times.

but he really couldn't help how he felt.

when he was at the lowest point in his life (being labeled as the weakest in the world with his father missing and his mother in a coma, all while his sister was relying on him), jinwoo found great comfort within your novels. he could relate to each protagonist on a personal level, and he had longed wished to meet the writer behind these wonderful stories-

he had longed to meet you.

so it was no surprise that he didn't sleep much during the hours leading up to your arrival.

it was no surprise that your picture plastered in the back of each novel was an image that he burned within his mind.

and it was certainly no surprise that he would become infatuated with you after hearing your voice and catching a glimpse of your personality during your phone call.

so when your plane lands in seoul's main airport at 3am, jinwoo was the first to arrive with his trademark van, holding up a sign that had your name written on it as he waited for you within the airport lobby.

jinwoo kept pacing around the airport, waiting for you at the gate you were meant to come out of. he was close to sending the several, panicked emails to the airlines he had booked tickets for had it not been for your sudden appearance. as you step out of the gate, he recognizes your side profile, feeling his heart begin skipping beats the closer you got to him.

you had a tired and confused expression on your face, with a single luggage in hand as you searched around for him. however, thanks to his height, you saw him almost immediately. a smile paints your features as you walk up to jinwoo to meet him.

"hello jinwoo, thank you so much for picking me up, a-and for booking the ticket for me to come here."

jinwoo could feel his throat turn dry at the mere sight of you because dear god, were you so much prettier in real life than in your photos.

{ ... }

you tilt your head at jinwoo, holding your luggage in one hand as you wave your free hand across his face. for some odd reason, jinwoo appeared to be captivated, not saying a word despite how you had stood in front of him for a total of 5 minutes now.

"jinwoo?"

as if finally hearing your voice, jinwoo snaps out of it, with you watching as he runs a hand across his hair while a light pink blush was seen spreading across his cheeks. he smiles down at you before wrapping his arms around your back, bringing you closer to his chest in a warm embrace.

"hey, i'm glad you made it here safe."

you hum in response, basking in the gentle but minty sweet scent of his cologne wafting off of his suit. you awkwardly return his embrace with one hand before looking up at him. "so, where to now?"

"well, you're going back to my place, of course." jinwoo takes a hold of your luggage before walking out of the airport, giving you little choice but to follow him.

"w-wait, that won't be necessary! i had every intention of staying at a hotel for the next two weeks! i don't wish to intrude on you-"

jinwoo stops walking, facing you fully with glowing eyes. they appeared to be translucent blue in hue as he places a hand beneath your chin. "please, i insist that you stay with me. you're still my guest, and it would pain me to see you spending a single cent while you're with me."

the familiar heat was felt returning to your cheeks. it was clear that jinwoo exuded a high amount of charm, and from the way his kind gaze was practically begging you to allow him to do this for you, you found that you lost the will to protest against him.

"well, if it's alright with you, then i thank you."

when jinwoo ends up patting your head / ruffling your hair, you felt the warmth simply deepen, allowing him to gently take a hold of your hand as you both left the airport together.

{ ... }

for once in his life, jinwoo was glad that he bought a separate apartment to crash in when he had to spend late nights at his guild.

because if he had allowed you to stay within the same space as his mother and little sister, they would never keep his 'crush' on you a secret (especially jinah).

after a 30 minute ride where he exchanged small talk and usual pleasantries with you, he takes you back to his 'work' apartment and invites you inside. despite the riches he has earned during his raids, jinwoo still chose to live a relatively modest lifestyle, renting out a two bedroom apartment that wasn't too small, nor too big.

he shows you the spare bedroom and points at the bathroom settled in the hallway, reassuring you that you could make yourself at home and alert him if you needed anything. you respond with your usual kind smile, and jinwoo leaves you alone to get unpacked.

knowing that you were probably starving after such a long flight, jinwoo heads into his kitchen to cook a delicious meal consisting of hotpot and ramyun noodles. he works on cutting up all the meats, seafood, and various vegetables while heating up the broth in the middle of his dining room table.

despite knowing how he wouldn't have much of an appetite while in your presence, jinwoo still wanted to cook some hearty for you (just in case). as he was finishing up the hotpot, he sees your figure inching closer to the dining room.

"wow, it smells so good, jinwoo. you're also a good cook?"

"absolutely yes."

you giggle in response, "well, i guess i'll just have to dedicate a whole chapter of your biography to how much of an amazing cook you are!"

he gives you a grin while gesturing at you to have a seat. with all the bowls and utensils surrounding the table, he beckons at you to dig in first. "i'm gonna grab us some sodas to enjoy, so you go ahead and start first."

"ah, are you sure?"

"absolutely! go on and don't be shy." he feels the butterflies taking over his abdomen, getting out some cans of soda before sitting across from you. as you begin eating, jinwoo felt a surge of pride swelling inside of him when you tell him how wonderful everything tasted.

he replies to your genuine compliments with a tiny 'thank you,' starting to eat as well, all while sneaking glances at you.

{ ... }

the following days spent with jinwoo kind of felt like a dream, if you were to be honest with yourself.

and it made you wonder, did all celebrities act like this toward the authors who wished to write their biographies?

deep down, you knew the answer to that question as being no-

that this was a special case between you and jinwoo.

as you interviewed him and asked about his life, he would take some time out of his day to treat you to various things. from eating out at expensive restaurants, to playing around and having fun at the local amusement park-

this felt more like going on dates than just work on your end.

and admittedly, you were having a lot of fun with him. not a single day went by where you didn't feel the excitement coursing through your veins. you ended up enjoying jinwoo's company so much that you felt almost a sense of sadness coursing through you at the thought of going back home and leaving him.

however, during your last night here in seoul, you pushed aside such pesky emotions and began writing out a draft of his biography. you knew that once you started your writing process, then you would not stop-

which is perfect for when you knew you wouldn't be able to sleep.

the door to the spare bedroom was closed as you hoped that it would muffle the incessant sounds of you typing away on your laptop. the last thing you wanted was to disturb jinwoo's sleep when you had every intention to pull an all-nighter writing the beginning chapters of jinwoo's biography.

after writing a few paragraphs, you stop typing to admire your work so far:

sung jinwoo is a 24 year old young man born on march 8, xxxx to his mother, park kyung-hye, and father, sung il-hwan. he spent most of his childhood living a relatively normal life with his parents and little sister, jinah. despite his seemingly normal upbringing, sung has faced many tragedies that left a permanent mark on his life. from the sudden disappearance of his father, to his mother falling into a deep coma due to the eternal slumber disease, he was left with the heavy responsibilities of caring for his seemingly broken family. but this biography is not a tragedy; in fact, the words written within the pages of this novel will be a testament to sung jinwoo's strength as he changes from the world's weakest hunter to the world's strongest hunter through a series of fated events...

a sudden knock heard at your door breaks you out of your read-through of the first few paragraphs that you have written.

"come in."

upon receiving your permission, jinwoo steps into the room with an unreadable expression on his face. there was a deep emotion settled within his eyes, and you wondered if something was bothering him.

"hey, you're still awake? are you okay?"

jinwoo's head was bowed to you, and you hear him murmur something.

"i'm sorry, jinwoo, but i didn't quite catch what you just said. can you repeat yourself?"

the young man begins to tremble when he speaks once more, this time clearer than before. "please stay with me."

your eyes go wide when jinwoo swiftly joins you on your bed, taking you in his arms when he suddenly presses his lips against yours in a kiss filled with desperation. you let out a surprised gasp, allowing jinwoo to take advantage of your parted lips as he dips his tongue within the confines of your mouth.

jinwoo greedily explores your taste, falling into bed with you as your back lands against the mattress. your heart was set aflame thanks to his kiss, and you could no longer deny the way it sang for him each time he was near. with your eyes clenched shut, you shyly return his kiss, allowing him to deepen it as he kept your head still with his large hands.

when the need for air proved to be too much, you and jinwoo both reluctantly pull away from each other, your eyes both hazy with the adoration you felt for one another. as you met with jinwoo's passionate, grey eyes, you watch as he leans down to press a chaste kiss against your lips.

"i'm sorry, but you need to know that... i've been half in love with you for a long time now. ever since i read your debut novel, i was hooked on you."

while he confesses to you, jinwoo brings you into his embrace, allowing you to settle yourself on his lap as he brushes his lips against your forehead. "i understood and found bits and pieces of myself in each and every protagonist you wrote about, and with each new novel that i read by you, the more i felt my admiration and crush for you morph into something else entirely- something much deeper and more meaningful."

you remain silent throughout it all, feeling overwhelmed as you listened to each and every one of jinwoo's words. he frames at your face, eyes now filled with unbidden love for you, "to make a long story a lot shorter, when i got stronger and managed to become an s-rank, all i could think about was how this made it easier for me to potentially meet you someday."

"so when you reached out to me first, eager to know about my life because of how i became stronger... i knew i couldn't let this chance go."

he smiles at you, taking in your wide eyes and the way you parted your lips in such a cute manner. with a sigh of your name, jinwoo kisses you once more. "i thought i'd be happy, simply spending two weeks alone with you, but i've quickly come to realize that two weeks just isn't enough."

despite how fast your heart was racing, you could feel the grin gracing your features as you nuzzled the tip of your nose against jinwoo's. "oh? and if two weeks isn't enough, how many days would i need to spend with you for it to be enough for you?"

a smirk was settled on jinwoo's handsome face, "honestly, i could have you for a lifetime and it still wouldn't be enough for me."

feeling your fondness for jinwoo also morph into something more powerful, you found that you were unable to say no to his gentle demands, becoming oh so captivated by his eyes as you land against his chest with a smile.

"i guess i may need to apply for some type of visa in order to stay here with you in a more permanent sense."

jinwoo chuckles while tightening his arms around your frame, filled with joy at what was to come-

but little did you know, so long as you agreed to marry him by the end of this year, then you would have no problems remaining forever by his side; he'd make sure of it ♡

a.n. - and with this story, it will be my last one before i start my rotations tomorrow for school! my updates will be semi-active, but i will be kept busy with various assignments 🥹 i just hope that you readers remain patient with me if it does take me a minute to update with new jinwoo stories!

this is currently unedited, but i'll make any changes once this is posted! until then, i hope you readers enjoy reading this!

all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.

#sung jinwoo x reader #jinwoo sung x reader #sung jinwoo x you #jinwoo sung x you #solo leveling x reader

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xxbimbobunnyxx · 2 hours

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love love love the rafe cameron x weirdgirl!reader au!! imagine reader at the country club overhearing some mean boys making fun of her and how rafe is crazy to date someone like her :(( she stays in her room after hearing this and rafe catches her biting herself and crying (she normally bites him but after hearing this she feels like she can’t) oh my heart-

No bc this is like sooo perfect. This is literally so her. I’ve been having a lot of fun coming up with lore for her so I’m so glad you’re liking her so far!! Warnings: (I’d like to note that weird girl is autistic coded bc I am autistic), Reader gets her feelings hurt, protective Rafe, biting 18+MNDI!! Part of this AU

“Yeah dude, she’s like so hot until she opens her mouth.” Your footsteps come to a sudden halt, your shiny black Mary Jane’s squeaking against the polished wooden floors of the country club. There’s a group of guys about your age standing around the corner in a circle all snickering to each other.

“No, yeah, like she says the fucking weirdest shit in that creepy little monotone voice. I have no idea how Rafe puts up with it.”

“The pussy must be out of this world or some shit because I would never be able to handle that. I saw her last week on the beach collecting animal bones or some shit bro. Bet she went back to check on her kill.” The entire group starts busting up laughing just as you feel hot tears start to stream down your cheeks. You just want to leave but they are blocking the only path to the door so you suck it up and high tail it as fast as you past them.

You were waiting for Rafe to be done with his game of golf but after that? You really didn’t want to bother him with wanting to leave early so you decided to just walk the mile and a half home. If you were lucky maybe you’d run into the neighborhood cat you befriended and he would walk part of the way with you.

When you get home you rush up the stairs and into your room, slamming the door behind you. Your head is swimming with negative thoughts. You were always scared you were too weird for Rafe, too much, too different from him. So when you hear guys he hangs around saying things like that about you? It’s hard to not let it get to your head.

You kick off your shoes and practically tear off the cute outfit you spent over an hour putting together. You grab your pink fuzzy robe, and walk over to your bunny’s cage, smiling down at her with watery eyes.

“I think you’re the only one that really understands me, Lydia.” Your bottom lip wobbles as you pick her up and walk over to your bed. You rock back and forth slightly as you caress her fur, trying to self soothe. You’re realizing in this moment that maybe you really are too much for Rafe because you hardly remember how to calm yourself down without him.

You wish so badly that he was here. You know he would hold you tight and let you sink your teeth into him until your tears stopped flowing. It seems to be one of the only things that truly calms you down so you decide to bring your own hand up to your mouth and bite down on it. It soothes you a little, but it isn’t Rafe. He’s called you a few times but you just let it ring, he’s probably worried, but you’re too embarrassed to pick up.

“Baby? Are you here?” The minute you hear Rafe’s voice you want to run to him, but the words of the boys at the country club playing in your head on repeat in your head cements you in place. “Bats?”

When he opens your bedroom door and takes in the sight of you his heart sinks.

“Baby girl, what’s going on? What happened? Where did you go? You scared the shit outta me.” He rushes over to you, coming to sit next to you on your bed. He rests his large hands on your calves and rubs soothing circles on your skin with the pads of his thumbs. You whimper and shake your head, your mouth still latched onto your hand. “Batty, you’ve gotta talk to me, okay? Tell me what’s going on.”

“I was…” You pull your hand away from your face, resting it on Lydia’s back as you pet her softly, the feeling of her fur grounding you. “I was coming back from the bathroom and I heard Jake and those guys… talking about me.”

“What about you?” Rafe’s voice takes on a protective tone, especially when another fit of sobs erupts through you. He hooks his arms under you so he can pull you and your bunny softly into his lap. “Princess. Tell me what they said.”

“They said - they said that they don’t know how you put up with me because I’m so weird and that you’re probably only with me because the pussy is good.” You sniffle as your tears continue to fall and if Rafe didn’t know you needed him right now he would be on his way back to the club to beat all of their asses until they couldn’t walk.

“Hey, hey, nah, none of that.” He cups your face in his hand, wiping away your tears. “You know I love you, all your weird shit and all. I’m not ‘putting up’ with you, I fuckin’ love your weird little ass.”

“They also… they also said that - that I probably kill animals…” You start sobbing again and Rafe’s entire body tenses. He knows how much you love animals, how important they are to you. He wants to fucking rip their throats out.

“Princess… I’m so sorry they said that. They just don’t know you, aight? You’d never harm a fly. Don’t let that shit get to you. I know it’s hard, but fuck em, they don’t know fuckin’ shit about my baby.” He gives you a reassuring smile as he wipes away some of your remaining tears. His hand swipes past your lips and you turn your head slightly to sink your teeth into it. He chuckles, leaning in to kiss your forehead. “There’s my weird girl.”

#rafe #Rafe Cameron #rafe concepts #rafe x reader #rafe x you #rafe blurb #rafe obx #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe fanfiction #rafe fluff #weird girl!reader

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thoughtfullyrainynightmare · 1 day

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Jealous

Summary: You are dating William secretly due to reasons, even though he has already shown you his scar under his mask. But... once he sees you chatting with a man in town, he has to swoop in and take you by the hand Pairing: William x gn!reader (reader is describes as a "beauty") Length: ~0.7k Fanfic type: Oneshot Contains: Themes of jealousy

William Vangeance, the oldest and only child of the House of Vangeance who was raised in the Forsaken Realm as he shunned by his birth parents, was not a possessive man. He wasn’t a jealous man. But instead he was a kind man. Someone who wanted to hold and be held in return.

But… his scar had made it very difficult for himself. To the point where he didn’t believe that anyone would love him, due to his looks. That each and everyone would think that he, despite all of his accomplishments or the good that he had done, would shun him for all the wrong he was or did commit. That he could never find someone who’d love him truly and deeply, with all that he was.

And… when you walked into his life, he could barely believe it.

For a good while, no matter how good it felt to talk to you, just to be around you…he was scared to his core about showing you his scar, because he was convinced that you’d leave him once he did. But nevertheless… he did show you. He couldn’t keep hiding it forever. Especially not someone he was… hoping to have and to hold as a partner. So… he had had to.

And.. much to his surprise, you hadn’t thought much about it. That he must’ve hidden something under the mask. Now he just got to see what it was.

Nevertheless, now that you had seen him without a mask, there was no not-noticing William when he was out on the town. And, more often than not, be surrounded by fans or knights or some noble, and he… He is just burdened by it all.

Which was why he asked if it’d be alright to keep the relationship secret. Plus, it’d allow them to have dates where he could be without his mask. So that it’d be just the two of you. To which you had agreed. At least for the time being.

Naturally it couldn’t stay that way forever, but… through the turbulent early stages of the relationship where you were still getting to know each other? That was very doable.

Or so William thought, until… Until that one day he saw you in the city, chatting with some guy. You were laughing at his jokes. Smiling and swaying and… Though he loved to see you enjoying your time, he couldn’t help but feel a lump in his throat. His senses became clouded to the way he was clenching his fists. His jaw was tense, and he was grinding his teeth, because… Because, there was no way this guy was trying to sweettalk you. The one person who had accepted, and loved, him for who he really was; scar and all.

There was no way. No way! He was just going to sit by idly and let this happen.

So he straightened his posture, grabbed a single flower from a nearby flower bush, and swooped in.

“Hello gorgeous,” he stated while taking you by the hand, spinning you to the side and presenting you the flower. “May I present to you an artwork of nature, which fails to hold a candle to your beauty?”

You stood there, looking at him with wide eyes, unsure of what to reply.

“Or perhaps you might allow me to escort you to acquire a more fitting bouquet?” He pulled you by the hand, beckoning you to follow him.

Which you did. Without a word, but you did.

It wasn’t until a good distance away when you noticed the blush on his cheeks, and the tension of his body, which spoke of his uneasiness. Or perhaps racing heart.

“Soo…” you uttered. “Why exactly did you come swooping in with the flower and the kind-a-poem?”

“Am I not allowed to spoil you?” He asked, with a smile, while trying to hide his emotions.

“Well no, but if we want to keep this thing secret for a little while longer…” you uttered with a kind of a tease, “unless you’re jealous…” Your voice harbored a grin that made his blush grow even more intense.

And it was in that blush that you found your reply.

#black clover fanfiction #black clover x reader #william x reader #william vangeance x reader #black clover oneshot

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luvhockey111 · 20 hours

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doomsday

based off of doomsday by lizzy mcalpine!

summary: Quinn Hughes and Elouise “ellie” were high school sweethearts. Everyone surrounding them were just waiting for the day that Quinn would pop the question. What happens when Quinn turns cold?

warnings: sad quinn, sad reader, kind of asshole quinn, angst a little bit

Quinn and Ellie had been dating since their freshman year of high school, to be more specific November of 2013. They were so deeply in love, when quinn went to the University of Michigan, Ellie followed. When Quinn had to move to Vancouver, he bought an apartment for the two of them. There truly was no Quinn without Ellie and vice versa. They made their apartment a home, even buying a dog right before quarantine in March of 2020. Their relationship never once faltered. That is until Ellie got a job offer in Michigan in September of 2022. Ellie’s dream had always been to be a physical trainer for a sports team. While Quinn tried and tried for the Canucks to hire her, they just simply did not need another trainer. It never crossed Quinn’s mind that Ellie could possibly consider leaving Vancouver to work. I mean Vancouver had been their home for the past 5 years, Quinn had been her home for the past 9. Eloise had found out about this job last month, she had told quinn right when she found out, since that day he had been nothing but cold. A shell of the man she loved.

“El I just don’t understand why you would go and apply for this job in Michigan, do you not care about me?.” Quinn had never raised his voice at Ellie, not in all her years of knowing him. “Quinn this is my dream, you know that. I’ve followed you every step of the way since we went to college, I’ve been working towards this job since senior year of high school. I’m not going to let it get away.” Eloise could feel her body start to over heat, her eyes get watery and blurry and her throat starting to close. Why couldn’t Quinn understand? “I told you that you don’t have to work I can provide for you El” Quinn started yelling. “You’ve had no problem letting me take care of everything and pay for the past 5 years so what’s the problem now.” “Are you insinuating that I have been using you?” Ellie was furious now. How could Quinn, her perfect boyfriend who has never raised his voice or ever mistreated her say imply such a thing? “It’s not insinuating, if I am straight up saying it Eloise.” Quinn had completely run cold. “Okay, you know what quinn I’m booking my flight for tomorrow morning. I start next week. I thought my boyfriend would be happy I’m finally getting what I’ve been dreaming about, but I guess not.” Eloise already had started packing earlier that day while quinn was at training. “Eloise if you take this job we are over.” Quinn said with a shaky voice, tears brimming just above his waterline. “I guess we’re over than, I’ll get my stuff and go to a hotel tonight.” Eloise was trying her hardest to keep her composure. She knew it had to have been a heat of the moment thing, but even then, if he is that willing to throw 9 years down the drain over a little distance, maybe he wasn’t the one.

“Pull the plug in September I don't want to die in June I'd like to start planning my funeral I've got work to do

Pull the plug, make it painless I don't want a violent end Don't say that you'll always love me 'Cause you know I'd bleed myself dry for you over and over again”

It was now December 23 2023

Ever since Eloise left that night she had not seen or spoken to Quinn. He had not reached out and neither had she. It would be a lie to say that she had not thought about texting him everyday. However, as far as she knows he is living his bachelor life up in Vancouver. She knew Quinn would be coming back home to Michigan for Christmas, as he did every year. Last Christmas Eloise had opted on buying herself and her mom a week long cruise over the time period she knew Quinn would be back in their hometown. This year was different, although she still did not want to see Quinn or speak with him, she had done a lot of self evaluation and decided that maybe it was for the best that the 2 split. I mean they had been together since freshman year of high school. She truly had not known herself without the presence of Quinn, and same goes for Quinn. It could possibly be right person wrong time or simply just someone who wasn’t meant to be. Eloise was currently shopping in her local Trader Joe’s when she had heard an all too familiar voice. Now it’s not the voice that she had heard everyday for 9 years but it was a voice she could pick out of a lineup for sure. It was the voice of the little brother she never had. “Yup, okay Jack I’ll get that fried rice you like. Oh my god leave me alone you’re such a child.” Luke groaned loudly, Eloise let out a quiet laugh at the sound of this conversation, knowing the antics of her old second family all too well. She was in the aisle next to luke and could still hear him loud and clear. All of a sudden the voice started sounding louder and closer. “Jack I swear if you tell mom I’ll…” Luke locked eyes with Ellie and looked as if he had just seen a ghost. “Uh yeah jack I’ll see you when I get home.” Right as he hung up on jack he ran to Ellie, engulfing her in a bear hug. Right as they connected Ellie could feel herself starting to get choked up and tears welling in her eyes. “Oh El I’m so sorry about everything, I’m sorry I didn’t reach out, I’m so sorry.” “It’s okay lu, I know how close you and Quinn are I didn’t expect you to. I did miss you a whole lot though.” Luke and Eloise had always been extremely close. She had known him since he was 10 and watched him grow up into an amazing hockey player and an even better person. She reminisced back to when she had first gotten her license and the first thing she did was drive Luke to hockey practice because Ellen and Jim were busy, and Quinn and Jack were out of town. He was like the brother she never had. Luke and Eloise had talked for about 5 more minutes before jack called complaining that he was out for too long and he had to eventually part ways from Ellie. After seeing Luke it made Eloise realize how much she had missed Quinn, but if it was that easy for him to walk out of her life and not reach out then it would be just as easy for him to ignore her, or to do it again. December 25, 2023

Christmas was always Eloises favorite holiday. Every year that she had been home for Christmas she would walk down a street in her town that was filled with lights and people after their Christmas dinners. This year had been no different. After her family dinner she had grabbed her coat and went to walk down the street. Now, every year she had done this walk with Quinn, this year it felt like a part of her had died on this walk. The part of her that enjoyed Christmas, or any holiday for that matter. She had realized on this walk she had become a shell of the person she once was. She had realized how pathetic she probably looked to an outsider. It was never about not knowing herself outside of being in a relationship with Quinn, it was the pride she took in it, how he made her a better person, he pushed her to chase after her dreams, he did all that he could to get her every resource possible so that she could follow her dreams. All in all she realized that she’s the villain in her own story. Yes, Quinn had blown up on her when he really had no right to, but she was the one who packed all of her stuff without telling him, she was the one who left their shared home of the past 5 years without a word, and she was the one who had blocked his phone number meaning to have unblocked it by the next morning. As Eloise realized she never unblocked his phone number she broke. What if he had tried reaching out to fix everything? What if he missed her as much as she missed him and she would never know? Quinn’s perspective:

A piece of Quinn had died a little bit with every text he had sent to Eloises phone number and every time it had shown up as not delivered. Quinn had been siliently dying inside due to his ego not wanting to tell anyone about the breakup, although everyone could tell something was wrong. He had kept up with her life ever since they split. He as well was a shell of a person ever since she had walked out that door. He texted her everyday multiple times without fail, he had called her at least once a day to hear her voice and laugh on the answering machine. He knew that Christmas was her favorite holiday and he knew she was in town because Luke had told him. So he had decided to text her to wish her a Merry Christmas.

“The death of me was so quiet No friends and family allowed Only my murderer, you And the priest who told you to go to hell And the funny thing is I would've married you If you'd have stuck around”

Eloise had felt her phone buzz in her pocket

Q💘: Merry Christmas El, I know today is your favorite. Remember our first Christmas together when you still had braces and a unibrow lol. You still were the most beautiful girl I had ever laid my eyes on, well I mean you still are but you get the point. I know you won’t see this message and haven’t seen the other probably millions of texts I’ve sent, I still love you and will continue to love you for as long as I’m living but I think it’s doing me more harm then good. Until we (hopefully) meet again my Ellie girl.

“I had no choice in the matter Why would I? It's only the death of me”

#quinn hughes #luke hughes #nhl players #hockey #angst #heartbreak #christmas

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hauntedadagium · 1 day

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Caged || Pt 7

Ardyn x Reader || Previous chapters: Caged (1) || (2) || (3) || (4) || (5) || (6). CW: suggestive themes, stockholm syndrome. Words: 4.7k

You wished you’d dreamt of anything else that night, but you didn’t. You dreamt of him. Even in sleep, he was inescapable. But everything that happened before; could you truly have hallucinated so severely? ...A prolonged nightmare?

You remembered Ardyn’s hand between your legs, the brush of his stubble against your cheek, his warm lips upon yours.

Your eyes opened slowly to the same room you’d woken up in for the last… how long had it been, exactly? Shifting uncomfortably, you sat up, swinging your legs over the side of the bed. It was easier to give into the fog in your mind; remaining lost in it provided a comfort taken from you by reality. It was obvious Ardyn grew impatient with your lack of cooperation, but he had all the time he saw fit to pry what he needed from you. Surviving was all you could do.

Despite being deprived of the most basic sensations, something lingered with you. You thought of it as if recalling a fond memory, stirring something within your gut.

Footsteps echoed outside, and then came a gentle knock at the door. You didn’t answer, simply continuing to ruminate the conflicting feelings.

The door opened slowly regardless, and Ardyn took a step inside, shutting it quietly behind him. You lifted your head and suddenly, your heart started beating. It pounded in your chest as he took his time approaching you, but this time, for different reasons. It didn’t pound from threat or fear or apprehension—

“Good morning, my dear.”

There it was. The subtle quirk of his lips. His confident stance. You had to look away.

“Is something wrong?” You could see him tip his head out of the corner of your eye.

“You broke your promise,” you said quietly, looking down. “You… you said you wouldn’t… touch me.” This was the only leverage you had. But it was nothing, less than nothing, even. But you clung to his promise for some semblance of power. You hadn’t an ounce of it in this place.

“What ever do you mean?” Again, that mock innocence presented itself. His games had begun.

You stood abruptly up and looked at him. “You know exactly what I’m talking about.” You were tired, Gods, you were so tired. It was a given that he wouldn’t take you seriously, but what else could you do? Stalling him with what little you could was only buying you additional time until he inevitably disposed of you.

It was clear now that Noctis wasn’t coming to save you.

Nobody was.

“It wasn’t a dream.” You shook your head, unconvinced of your own words. “You tricked me.” You frowned, edging closer to him. “You—you wore his face.” Another step. “You dangled my freedom in front of my face.” You were face to face now, his satisfied grin glaring down at you. “Why? Why are you keeping me here?” Your hands balled into fists. “I’m not telling you shit!” You shoved him with all your might, causing him to stagger back onto one foot. “Why don’t you just be done with me already!”

Steadying himself, he only grinned harder.

“Fuck you!” You screamed and shoved him again. “I hate you!” Your weak fists pounded on his chest, eliciting no reaction. “You—you said you wouldn’t touch me. You… you tricked me, you… kissed me.” You stopped hammering on his chest, letting your hands slump to your sides. “And I…”

That damn memory. It breached the fog in your head and settled itself front and centre. Your heart started pounding again.

“And…?” He finally said, his low, dulcet tone above you.

“And?” You scowled, looking up at him. You knew it wasn’t just a dream.

Ardyn huffed, like he wanted to laugh. “I suppose I’ve taken quite a liking to you.”

You were speechless. You were not some puppet to be played with. You were an intimate colleague of the enemy. You should have been nothing but a pawn to him.

“Enough,” you said, taking a step back, but he soon closed the gap between you. “I won’t play your games anymore. I—”

His eyes bore into you. “Careful.” He said more seriously, words tainted with threat.

“I don’t care.” He continued to approach you. “If it wasn’t enough that I wouldn’t talk before, then I’ll continue to show you. You—you’ll kill me before I’ll talk.” Soon, you were backed against the wall.

“Don’t tempt me,” he said deeply, bearing his teeth as he shoved his face in front of yours.

You were steadfast in your courage, refusing to turn your head away. “You’ve taken everything from me.”

All you needed was an opportunity, and he knew that was dangerous. It tipped the scales in your direction where they’d been such in his favour before. An unattended weapon. An unlocked door. No matter the risk. No matter how long it took. What else did you have to lose?

“Not…everything,” he said, face softening as he glanced at your lips then back into your eyes. The ghost of his touch prickled heat up your neck. “But perhaps you’re right.” Tilting back slightly, he instead leaned over you with one hand steadying him on the wall beside your head. “If I’ve taken everything from you… we’ll see what else you’re willing to give to me.”

Your throat went dry. Were you mistaken? He couldn’t possibly mean—

Without warning his free hand flicked his dagger out of its holster and lifted it to your neck. You knew then that he was about to take the last thing he could from you.

Not your life. Not yet, no.

Your promise.

“Now that you’re of little use to me, what’s say we…retract our little promise, and I’ll let you live for a while longer, hm?”

“That’s—you can’t threaten me to give you permission, you might as well take it yourself.” You trembled as the sharp blade kissed the delicate flesh of your throat.

“Give it to me,” he demanded, an animalistic growl behind it.

You swallowed and shut your eyes tight. “No.”

You heard a frustrated hiss escape him. “Give it to me,” he repeated close to your ear. The sharp edge of his dagger tilted up against your skin. You tried not to breathe lest it pierce you.

“I—I won’t.” Your voice quivered, preparing for the cold flash against your neck, and then darkness. For the nightmare to reach its inevitable conclusion.

But it never came.

“You continue to surprise me.” Ardyn withdrew, sheathing his weapon. You opened your eyes, watching him turn nonchalantly. “Why don’t we come to an agreement instead?”

This certified one thing at least; that he was desperate to touch you. Desperate to regain some of the power he’d lost by making this promise in the first place. But why? So he could torture you? So he could push you around? So he could…?

“Tell me something you want, and I’ll consider it.” He folded his arms and took a step back.

“Freedom,” you answered quickly, almost surprised you’d even spoken aloud.

He laughed. An arrogant sound. “Something besides that.”

You thought hard. What was akin to breaking the promise? You needn’t ask for food or hot water, these were necessities that, thank the Gods, he’d provided you already. But what else?

“I—I want to go outside.” You turned your attention away from him. Even the request felt infantilizing.

There was a long silence.

“Fine,” he replied plainly after some time, extending his hand for a handshake.

This was it. Tantamount to signing your body away. You hesitated, watching his golden eyes stalk you. It was the opposite now—it felt like you were giving him permission to do what he wanted with you.

Still, your mind lingered on the kiss. Whether it was real or not, it wouldn’t leave your mind.

Reaching for his hand, you took it. You felt his gloved palm against yours, coupled with the gentle squeeze of his fingers. You both lingered there before letting go.

“Get dressed,” he said, before turning to leave. You watched as he headed for the door, securing it behind him.

A deep feeling of dread washed over you.

What have I done?

* * *

Time passed, and you still hadn’t summoned the energy to dress yourself. A choking feeling twisted at your throat and at times, you could still feel Ardyn’s dagger against your skin. It was difficult to shake yourself free of his vice grip even without his presence. You suspected this was all part of his game, but to what end? He’d initially kidnapped you for information but to no avail—so what use was keeping you around? The Crown did not negotiate. The likelihood of a barter for your safety was nil, so even that leverage was defunct.

The guards had left not only the clothes you were taken in, a now filthy pair of pants and a shirt, but something fresh to wear every other day. They would occasionally launder the clothes Ardyn chose for you; a scant night dress, pants, shirts, tank tops. Everything was fairly plain and simple. Usually they would leave everything in a closet and thankfully now, you were left alone to bathe and dress.

Treading carefully over to the wardrobe, you pulled the handle to look inside, expecting to see a dull array to clothe yourself with. But instead—

“What’s this?” You whispered aloud, tugging the only hanging garment in the closet down. Besides that, the whole thing was empty.

It was a sundress. A soft, mid-length white dress decorated with subtle blue flowers. You thumbed over the delicate stitching.

Sylleblossoms.

Your favourite flower.

It was beautiful, but it made you wince. You could feel your brow pulling into a taught grimace as you clutched the thing in both hands, thinking of wearing it in front of Ardyn. At his behest, no doubt. But it was either that or go outside in your nightdress; logically the former was the least humiliating, so quietly you took yourself to bathe and slip on the dress before someone inevitably arrived to collect you.

It made you nauseous as you observed your reflection, smoothing down the fabric with your palms. He'd taken his time selecting this, he'd thought about you wearing this—everything about it was as sickening as it was nerve-wracking.

You had just finished combing your hair when a guard barged in, sending a jolt down your spine. You turned, heart hammering, suddenly feeling very exposed as the man looked you up and down in silence.

“This way,” he commanded, holding the door open for you. Padding over with bare feet, you halted in the doorway to take one last steadying breath.

Shoes were something you weren't afforded in captivity. Likely to hamper any attempt at escape, or to make you feel as if the place was home.

Once again you entered that corridor, memories of being dragged kicking and screaming into the interrogation room causing you to sweat. When you passed it, you breathed out, instead being led into a room just beyond.

Inside, Ardyn was waiting.

The door slammed and you jumped again, Ardyn turning to face you now that you were alone. You couldn’t help but tilt your head and look away whilst he studied you for a considerable while. Your cheeks burned as the silence stretched, picking the skin at your fingernails to occupy yourself.

As he did, you noticed this room had windows; long, bright, floor to ceiling windows; sunlight streaming through. It felt like a lifetime had passed since you saw daylight. Real daylight.

The bright blue sky was littered with fluffy clouds as far as you could see, surmising you must be on the highest floor of some kind of building. You hadn’t expected him to comply with your deal quite so soon, and it took you seeing the sky to realise how desperate you were for it.

“There is one more thing before we go,” he said quietly, approaching you. Your heart agonisingly fluttered. “You understand this is a…sensitive situation. It would be foolish of me to reveal our location.”

In an instant, he was behind you, hands placed gently on your shoulders. You shuddered, realising the promise was well and truly behind you now. The cool leather of his fingerless gloves caressed you for a moment before they were gone, hearing him retrieve something from his coat pocket.

It was odd—he was dressed head to toe, as usual, to go outside on what looked like a relatively warm day.

You yelped quietly as darkness shrouded you, Ardyn placing a soft blindfold over your eyes.

“Wait—” your hands flew up to touch it, but he softly guided them down by your sides. “You can’t— this wasn’t—”

“I agreed I would take you outside,” he started, deep voice washing over you, “the circumstances, however, you left to my desire.”

The dress. The blindfold. You should have known better than to be vague with him.

And oh, how desirable this is. You could have sworn you heard his voice in your head, something so subtle, nothing above a whisper.

You don’t realise how much you need every sense in its entirety until you lose one, sight perhaps being the most impactful of all. You were getting exactly what you’d asked for, but it would be completely under his control—he was left to guide you, direct you, and test you by tempting you to remove it.

You took in an unsettled breath as he ushered you with a hand on the small of your back to walk forward, hoping he wouldn’t trick you into injuring yourself.

Slowly he guided you, hearing the quiet click of his boots against the wooden floor and feeling his large hand at your lower back. You walked until you heard his boots hit what sounded like metal, an odd sound. Removing his hand, you felt instantly lost—the space around you was unimaginable—cramped or large, occupied or empty, your mind went into a frenzy before you felt him brush up against you to stand side by side.

The space around you shuddered and suddenly, you felt movement.

“What’s happening—” your panicked words were followed by a hand reaching out to touch him, gripping the side of his coat for support.

“It’s alright,” he said quietly. “You’re safe.”

Safe. You could have laughed. You were anything but safe with him, a man who had kidnapped you, interrogated you, berated and belittled you. But in that moment, completely blind, he was your only source of safety.

With the loud hum of a machine, you deduced you were in some sort of elevator—an odd contraption for a building you assumed was extremely old, but by the feeling in your stomach, instead of going down, you were going up.

“W—where are we going?” You clung to him tightly as the elevator came to an abrupt halt.

“Where I promised,” he said, peeling your hands away from him as he returned to guiding you gently from behind.

You took cautious steps, certain he would be irritated at your slowness, but terrified you would become dizzy and stumble. If you were on a high floor, you could stumble to the edge—what if you fell?—what if he pushed you? Suddenly it felt as if you were confined to a cage, sightless, senseless, about to cry before—A sound, something mechanical, like a door sliding open, and then—

A breeze. A warm, gentle breeze. Sunlight on your cheeks. The gentle rustle of leaves. The smell of fresh flowers.

Tears would have rolled down your cheeks if not for Ardyn’s blindfold. You thought this is what the afterlife must feel like. Peaceful. Beautiful. Free.

After walking for a little while, he stopped you, turning you presumably to face him.

“Please,” you asked, “let me see it.”

A moment later, Ardyn’s arm brushed past your ear, untying the blindfold, slipping it back into his pocket. You took a second before peeling your eyes open, letting your vision flood with light and colours.

At your feet, tiny white stones and dirt; bright green foliage topped with vivid blue petals; a path through a field of ten thousand flowers. Above, the sky was blue and the sun shone on your cheeks, now wet with tears.

It was one of the most beautiful things you’d ever seen. For miles it seemed the flower field stretched in every direction, never ending, it wasn’t even clear where you’d come from.

You twirled around, away from him, soaking in the delicate scent of Syllblossoms.

“It’s…” You could hardly speak. Everything that has been, everything that was slowly melted away. “It’s—”

“Beautiful.” Ardyn finished your sentence, and you turned around to face him.

But he wasn’t looking at the flower field.

He was looking at you.

“I don’t know what to say,” you almost whispered, looking up at him. “Thank you.”

Ardyn simply nodded, lifting a finger to your chin. He poised the digit just right to angle your face up to him, and just stared at you. For a long time you watched as the breeze blew his hair gently in front of his face.

After some time, his hand moved to cup your cheek in his palm. There was pain in his eyes, something you couldn’t place; it wasn’t sadness or regret. It was the first time his hard exterior had fallen in front of you—there was something genuine about it.

“I’m sorry,” he said, without explanation.

It was as if the words weren’t meant for you. Like his eyes were as entranced with what he saw as you were with the field of flowers.

Your heart was beating again, but you weren’t afraid. His touch was soft, so soft.

“Ardyn,” you addressed him by name, probably for the first time since you’d arrived. He seemed to visibly flinch, as if broken from some reverie.

He quirked an eyebrow and swiftly his hand withdrew, cold exterior returning. You regretted breaking him from whatever dream he was trapped in.

“Where are we?” You hesitated to ask, but nothing made sense. This couldn’t be on top of a building, it was a field in the middle of nowhere. “I don’t understand.”

“Does it matter?” He sounded defeated. Tired. “You seem to quite like it.”

“I do,” you said, too enthusiastically. It was like you’d forgotten where you really were. “Can I stay, just…for a while? …Please.”

Ardyn just nodded.

You beamed. The first genuine smile you’d felt in eons. Pure happiness.

You started running, feet crunching in the bare dirt as soft foliage sped past your ankles and the smell of gorgeous florals flooded you. Alive. You felt alive again.

Your mouth fell open in a laugh, giggling as you ran and skipped and twirled in the field, the giant sun above arcing over you as you went. The further you went, the more odd it should have seemed; nothing changed, not the field nor the sky nor the ground.

But you didn’t care. You just wanted the wind in your hair, the sun on your face, and the dirt under your feet. The exhaustion dissipated, the ache in your legs subsided, each breath felt as if it were a stream of life pumping directly into your veins. The sweet pull of freedom whispered to you, a dream of something so far away.

“That’s far enough,” Ardyn said directly from behind you, pulling you to a halt by the wrist.

You faltered, spinning to face him, out of breath but still smiling. It hadn’t even occurred to you how he had appeared immediately at your back.

“Please, a little more—” Your words were jerked from you as he yanked you toward him, colliding with his chest, hand pinned between you both. His honeyed eyes stared down at you, that same, soft expression on his face. “Ardyn…”

“Yes…” He said oh so quietly, never taking his eyes off you, nor his hand from your wrist.

“What are you—”

With his free hand, he moved to caress the side of your neck. His touch was warm, gentle, like the flow of a shallow river. The sun spilled across your features but couldn’t reach his, protected by the shade of his hat. “Beautiful,” he repeated.

You were speechless, certain this time that he was talking to you. Your high remained, heart fluttering again. It was only now you really saw him; his deep golden eyes, the slant of his jaw, the curve of his lips. He was fiendishly handsome, and somewhere deep down, you hated yourself for even thinking it. But you had to ride this high as far as it would go, your body burned for it, needed it.

When he leaned toward you, you didn’t pull away. You knew he was going to kiss you and you did nothing to stop him.

His lips settled upon yours in a soft kiss, one that stilled your heart and stole your breath. You found yourself reaching up to touch his neck, thumbing over his pulse. His heart was beating fast.

Your tender flesh basked in the sunlight as a hand at your back pulled you closer, and with another breath he tilted his head, opening his mouth to slip his tongue onto yours. You moaned quietly into it, letting him take over, feeling his heart beat more quickly all the while. One hand snaked down the curve of your spine and to your behind, sweeping forward past your hips again to settle at your inner thigh.

It was a moment of pure bliss, until—

Something heavy crashed to the pit of your stomach, like waking from a nightmare. It knocked the air from your chest and you pulled away instantly, breaking free of his grip and planting your back foot into the dirt.

“No…” You whispered. “I—” There were too many conflicting feelings, too much pressure built inside you, too confused to think and simultaneously too exhausted to understand. “Stop…”

Your weakened pleas must have been an enticing sound as he once again forced proximity between you. “Don’t you want this?” He mused, brushing your cheek with the back of his hand. “Everything you see here…can be yours.”

Your neck crooned toward his touch. He was manipulating you, and it was working.

“My—my freedom, I—” You hesitantly tore yourself away. “This…this isn’t real.”

“I can give you so much more,” he continued, something dark in his tone. “If you let me.”

“No…” You repeated. He’s your enemy; your mind was screaming at you, but your heart was dissonant. If you refused to comply, history would repeat itself.

“Don’t lock me back in that room, please—please I’m begging you.” You pulled on the lapels of his coat. “I want to stay here, I want to—”

“It doesn’t have to be this way,” his sultry tone crept into your head and poisoned your thoughts. He was so difficult to refuse. “We could work together, you and I.”

“Stop it,” you pleaded again, “I—I can’t.” A wave of nausea overcame you. But not over the events of him kissing you, no. More toward the fact that you had enjoyed it. A sliver of comfort, of passion, a moment of weakness—the exhilaration had left you hopelessly complacent.

When you attempted to pull away, he pinned your bodies together.

“There's no escaping this,” he whispered, “why not just...succumb to it.”

For the first time since your capture, you wanted to. Your old life had become a distant memory. “Please…” you whispered, pinned against him. “Just…please, let me come back here.”

Ardyn ran a hand through your hair, sweeping it back in a loving motion that left you feeling weak. “If you insist.” His fingers pressed on the back of your head to tilt in down, feeling him plant a soft kiss atop your head.

His actions towards you were that of a man in love. You knew it wasn’t real. Your heart knew he was acting; playing his part until eventually you felt comfort in his presence instead of fear. Your defiance had not earned you freedom, not in life nor death. It had simply earned you a place in a different game entirely.

One that was arguably more difficult to resist.

Your time was up; Ardyn withdrew the blindfold once again and you were plunged into darkness, eventually feeling the warmth of the sun vanish from your skin. You noticed it again, the same strange sound of a mechanical door opening before you travelled down the elevator together, this time, his hand interlocked with yours. It was not long before you found yourself with your vision restored, locked with him inside that room of yours.

“I trust you liked my…gift,” he said, releasing you and tucking the blindfold back in his pocket.

You had almost forgotten you were wearing the dress. “Oh.” You looked down past the dress at your muddy feet. “I—It’s…lovely.” A thought crossed your mind to bathe, and as if he could read your thoughts, he approached the bathroom.

“I’ll draw you a bath.”

Before you could even protest, he disappeared behind the door, hearing the water gushing into the tub. Without him beside you, reality crashed into you like a freight train, too galling to ignore. It reminded you of your previous escape attempt with the guard, beginning to wonder if you might be able to attempt the same.

With Ardyn distracted, you padded quietly over to your bedroom door and tried the handle. Of course, it was locked. The gold plate brandishing the handle and keyhole was scratched where you had attempted to pry the lock previously. It seemed like a lifetime ago. Defeated, you sank against the doorframe, slumping onto the floor.

It really is pointless, isn’t it?

The water was still running, giving you time to think, but your mind was anything but clear. Anything but rational. Clarity was so often something crooked or misshapen here, but one thing remained; you were still bathed in the love and warmth of your time outside, looking forward to sinking into the hot water of a bathtub. It reminded you of home.

When the water stopped, you pushed yourself to your tired feet, hesitantly entering the bathroom. Inside, Ardyn had removed his hat, coat and waistcoat, leaving them neatly hung up on the wall. It was strange to see him dressed down like this, only in his shirt and pants, red scarf draped lazily over his shoulders.

His sleeves were rolled up and one arm dripped water onto the marble floor, suggesting he’d tested the temperature for you already.

You swallowed, approaching the tub. Lavender scented steam rose in wispy tendrils toward you; the water looked inviting.

There was a deadlock when you looked up at him. You had expected him to leave shortly after, but instead, he remained. Like he was waiting for something. You suddenly blushed profusely, yet not a word was spoken between you.

D-does he expect me to…undress? In front of him?

“I—I…uhm,” you stuttered, prolonged stalemate making you heated. “Do you…are you going to stay?”

Ardyn folded his arms. “Would you like me to stay?”

The question caught you off guard. Taking in a shuddered breath, you stood beside the water. “I think I should…be alone.”

He bowed his head. “As you wish.” Retrieving his belongings, he stopped in front of you before he left. His thick lashes blinked slowly as he towered over you, observing you from head to toe in silence one final time.

“You may not see me for some time,” he addressed you by name and your heart skipped a beat. “I’ll return when I can.”

Before you could process his words he turned to leave and you reached for him, tugging at his shirt.

“Wait—” your eyes searched his expressionless face. “What do you mean?” You didn’t want to be locked alone in that room for days on end, not again. “You said you would let me walk outside again—”

“When I can,” he interrupted, apathetic tone causing your heart to sink. “My guards will take care of you.” He pulled away, heading for the door.

“I don’t want your guards,” you blurted out, “I want—”

You. Your thoughts betrayed you. Though you hadn’t spoken aloud, what you meant was clear. Just hours ago you had screamed at him, confessed your utter hatred toward him, and now?

A subtle movement curled Ardyn’s lips into a wry smile.

Without so much as another word, he left, exiting the bathroom and locking your bedroom door.

You collapsed to your knees beside the tub, arms hanging inside the warm water. There you were again, left alone, nothing but your frantic thoughts for company.

#ardyn izunia #ardyn lucis caelum #ffxv #ardyn x reader #finally an update #forgive my utter utter absence #if this is received well i'll continue with it #thank you for your support

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bloompompom · 6 months

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you will know when i'm at my breaking point and writing something so extremely self-indulgent if the smut begins with reader downing a bottle of water, then ends with her immediately crawling out of bed in the most unsexy way possible to pee and take her prophylactic antibiotic

#chronic uti gang rise up #see this is why i like my mind palace #no utis there am i right #but just know reader is not truly me until this happens #IS THIS TOO MUCH INFORMATION #if this is unrelatable i'm deleting #bloomy rambles

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chuluoyi · 12 days

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✎ baby to the rescue

- gojo satoru x reader

in which gojo recruits your baby son to “save” you from a credit card salesman

genre: immense fluff !! baby gojo and dad!gojo shenanigans~

note: based on this and this reel. with this i hereby declare that anything past chapter 235 is null and void HAHA anyway, i truly want to post remarried empress au by this week but since 261 leaks hurt me so much, i need more fluff so have to postpone it to next week :') tagging @karikari19hikariiii <3

a part of gojo's love entries

series masterlist | oneshot masterlist

Your husband Gojo Satoru... is handsome as hell, which means your baby son is also undeniably good-looking.

"Why do you pout at me?" Satoru poked his squirming baby's cheek while pursing his lips too. "C'mon, smile! That auntie is smiling at you!"

Everyone who passed by them in Shinjuku shopping district turned heads to admire him and his pumpkin just a little longer, and Satoru visibly enjoyed the attention. He smiled back at them, occasionally winking even.

If only they knew how pretty his wife was too...

Wait, no! On second thought, if they know how hot you are, there will be problems!

You had left him to go to the nearest pharmacy to restock some things, while Satoru decided to entertain his baby in the toy section. He basked in the starry-eyed looks people were giving him... until he heard some strange sounds and turned to his baby boy—

—who was chewing the beak of a duck toy with all his might. Satoru was mortified.

"—! Let that go! Your mama will beat me if she sees you eating this!"

Your baby paid him no mind though, desperately pushing the duck into his mouth. Satoru sat him on one of the empty racks and began the tug of war—

"Let go!" he reprimanded. "You're so naughty, gods—!"

Some people were now openly giggling at both of them. His son tried to resist by rolling, and Satoru clicked his tongue. He then yanked the toy away until his baby finally let it go, sniffling sadly that his papa wouldn't let him have the duck.

"Oh, you..." he picked him up again and consoled the pumpkin. "You can't do that, you hear? First, it's not clean. Second, mama will grow two heads to chew you and me both, understand?"

No, your son totally didn't understand a thing. Satoru sighed, seeing his little blue eyes welling up with tears. He ruffled his head and pulled him close. "There, there... I'll get you ice cream, okay? Now let's go."

Satoru was determined to turn his son back into a smiling, happy baby. But just as he was about to head towards the ice cream parlor, he encountered the most unbelievable sight—

"Miss! I guarantee you'll love this credit card features!"

You. That was clearly you, and a salesman (or a bozo, in Satoru's eyes) was trying to bother you.

You raised an eyebrow. "Uh, no— thank you—"

Yet the bozo was still persistent, like the pesky fly he was. "You can use it to pay for your monthly beauty treatments! Someone as pretty as you..." He eyed you from head to toe, blinking suggestively. "Oh my! Your skin is flawless! You have to maintain it this way! I can also give you recommendations for—"

You were wearing a flare dress that made you look so young and petite, and obviously, Satoru too was lusting after you. And true, your skin was smooth like a soft serve of mochi, but still!

You are meant for him and his eyes only! Oho, this bozo would get heavenly punishment.

He had to get to you somehow, but this was public space and if he cooked up some sort of shenanigan, you would put him in sex ban. I can't have that! so Satoru wracked his brain to think of another way...

Once again, his gaze fell on his now calm baby, who was also looking at his mama over there with utter curiosity. And an idea immediately popped up in his mind.

"Hey, kiddo, look at that, a bad man is trying to take your mama," Satoru nudged him as if trying to egg him on. "We can't let that happen. Will you help me to save her, hmm?"

"Mama..." your baby looked back at him so innocently before smiling. "Mamaaa!"

"Good boy." Gods, his baby was so adorable, he almost felt bad for doing this but...

Swallowing his guilt, thinking he would make it up later, he pinched his son's butt a little too firmly—

"WAAAA!" and suddenly, the little boy burst into tears, and even Satoru was surprised by the sheer volume of his wail.

The sudden inconsolable sound of your baby sent you scrambling in panic, your eyes wildly searching for him, completely disregarding the credit card man. "My baby!"

"Eh?" the credit card man was visibly surprised. "Oh... so, you're married...?"

You immediately made your way towards Satoru and snatched your baby from him, hugging him tightly. "Oh, there, there... What happened to you?" you shot your husband a distaste look as your son kept wailing. "Satoru, why is he crying?"

He nonchalantly shrugged. "Maybe missing his mama? Dunno~"

By now, you had completely forgotten the credit card bozo, but he still looked at the three of you in mild surprise. Satoru took this chance to approach him and whisper in his ear:

"You see, my wife doesn't need your credit card," he whistled. "My cards or lumpsum money will do more than enough."

After seeing how pale the bozo looked, Satoru chuckled darkly... before leading you and your son away from the crowd, with one arm possessively around your waist.

Epilogue

"I'm sorry— I'm sorry, okay!?"

Satoru looked down at his son in utter hopelessness, as the little boy refused to be held by him, looking at him with teary, resentful eyes, and backing away from him in his playpen.

Can babies hold a grudge? Satoru didn't know, but his son definitely was not happy with him, and he couldn't think of any other explanation other than his sin against him back this afternoon.

"I've bought you mochi ice cream!" he opened his palm to reveal the treat. "Don't you want some? Papa will give you some, yeah?"

Baby looked skeptical now, and at that moment, he resembled you so much—accusing eyes, pursed lips, exactly like the expression you would pull when you were unsure of what Satoru might do next. He almost chuckled at the resemblance, feeling giddy.

"C'mon, forgive me, yeah?" he patted his son's little beanie and offered his hand for him to take, eyes crinkling in fondness. "Now, here comes your treat, come closer?"

Your baby crawled closer, seemingly accepting him, and Satoru was all smiles, until—

Whack!

It happened in a flash. He could have avoided it, but he was too taken aback. The pain exploded in his jaw, so intense that he grunted loudly.

"What the—?! You... you—! You kicked me— in the face!"

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rowarn · 9 months

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afab!reader, no prns, praise, edging, wet&messy, könig using ur clit as a fidget toy <3

könig, a trained lethal soldier, who suffers from anxiety. you would never know if you didn't know what you were looking for.

his biggest tell, for you, is the way he fidgets. with you.

you're like his own personal little fidget toy. his hands are always on you, kneading and squeezing your skin. most times you don't mind, you rather like having him touching you — your thighs, your waist, your butt, wherever he can get his hands honestly.

but sometimes...his hands wander. it's mindless, truly.

his eyes fixated on the tv playing some random show he decided he wanted to watch. but you couldn't pay attention, not when one big hand was shoved up your shirt groping your breasts and the other was haphazardly stuffed into your sleep shorts and under your panties.

he's toying with you so mindlessly, callused fingers sliding over your clit that has grown increasingly slippery with how wet you've become. occasionally he dips down to prod at your slick entrance.

his movements have no rhyme or reason. he's not even moving very fast. just sloppy back and forth flicks and occasionally he simply taps his fingers against the little bud that has grown so sensitive from his playing. sometimes, when something interesting happens on tv, he stops completely until the desire the fidget returns to him.

you're sitting with your back against his chest, situated between his spread legs sprawled cozily on the couch. he can't see the heated, dazed look on your face from the come-and-go pleasure he inadvertently gives you. he's edging you without even realizing it, full attention still focused on the damn tv. he isn't even hard.

that thought alone is enough to make you clench around nothing. he's really just playing with you like a little toy and that thought is so hot to you. it makes you cheeks burn in embarrassment as you continue to leak into your panties.

if you listen close you can hear with wet clicking noise that comes with his movements. your eyes roll back in your head as that sound alone has your back arching but you quickly settle yourself down, not wanting to tear his attention from the tv — he so rarely had time to settle down and just enjoy tv, you didn't want to disturb him.

the episode he's watching ends and you cast a hopeful glance up at him but he's waiting for the next episode to start and it makes you whine against your own wishes. but your clit is so hard and twitchy from being edged that it's actually hurting and you're so wet now that your panties are uncomfortably sticky.

it's your whine that gets his attention, pretty blue eyes flicking down to your face where he finally sees the desperate way you're looking at him, teary eyes and swollen lips from biting them to keep quiet. you can see in his eyes when he registers how soaked you've gotten his fingers and he has the audacity to look sheepish.

"ah, my sweet..." he whispers, ears tinged pink, "i-i'm sorry, i did not realize..."

he moves to pull his hand out of your panties and you whine again, grabbing his wrist with both hands to stuff him back down. your nails bite into his skin and he stops trying to pull away, instead pushing his hand back down and it's then that he fully resisters how wet you are.

"don't stop, please...i-i've been so close..." you pitifully beg and he takes pity on you. how precious of you, he thinks.

"i'm sorry, my love," he coos, fingers starting to work once again — properly this time with quick little circles on your clit, "i'll make you cum for being so good for me."

you can't even formulate words, instead nodding and spreading your legs even further apart, your feet on either side of his legs. he hums softly in your ear, chin hooked over your shoulder as he watches his hand move under the fabric of your shorts.

he spreads your sticky folds apart and begins to swirl messily around your clit, occasionally lightly tapping against the bud just to watch the cute way your thighs twitch at the feeling. you reach back and clutch his t-shirt in your fists to ground you. his cock throbs, churning up quickly, at the loud, wet noise of him playing with your cunt.

it doesn't take long at all before your stiffening against him and twitching in his lap as you cum with a cute little gasp of his name. he moans softly in your ear as he feels your clit throb under the pads of his fingers. you let out the loveliest moans that has his cock hardening fully against his thigh.

when you slacken against his body, aftershocks making you twitch periodically as you pant, he's tempted to stop but the fact you had sat there so sweetly and let him practically torture you while he watched his show made him want to make it up to you.

he sees the excitement in your eyes when his fingers dip lower and begin to press into you and he can't believe just how sweet you are. your so sticky and wet with the amount of cum he worked out of you with such ease.

"let me really make it up to you, my little one..."

#könig smut #konig smut #könig x reader #konig x reader #cod smut #cod x reader #könig #konig

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r0tte3nlungz · 5 months

Text

husband!gojo ✮| headcannons

gojoxfem!reader

MDNI -> warnings: afab reader (but anyone can read yk), sfw&nsfw, arranged marriage, slight angst, comfort, pet names, flufflufffluff!, cunnilingus, gojo is pussy whipped, fingering, creamycreamycreamiest creampies, reader calls gojo daddy!, tummypushing

a/n: i had a dream abt this with some random guy and when i woke up i was so disappointed :(( LOL angwah heres some quick gojo headcannons bc i truly miss him and im so lonely.

husband!gojo who you married per each family’s request, making your marriage an arranged one.

husband!gojo who hated the idea of being tied down.

husband!gojo who couldnt wait for the ceremony to end, however when he watched you walk down the aisle, looking so innocent, he felt a tug at his heartstrings.

husband!gojo who didnt know what to do when on your honeymoon. he didnt know whether or not to interact with you or to keep his distance like he promised himself. he decides for the latter.

husband!gojo who enjoys coming to work everyday after his honeymoon because his cute little wife always delivers his lunch to him despite not asking you to.

husband!gojo who starts to soften even more when he sees that you wait for him to come home from work. youre usually sleeping on the couch. he gently scoops you up in his arms and takes you to bed.

husband!gojo who sees that you start getting tired of the routine after a while. making his lunches, waiting for him to come home late. you stop delivering his lunches personally, opting to just give it to him before he leaves in the morning. he doesnt see you when he comes home either.

husband!gojo who makes sure to wash up before slipping into bed with you, wrapping his arms around you . he missed you.

husband!gojo who feels you wake the next morning, obviously confused to see his arms around you. he sighs before bringing you closer to his chest.

husband!gojo who whispers apologies and sweet nothings in your ear as you settle yourself into him with suspicion.

he strokes your head as he says. “im sorry. i know you didnt want this marriage either. im sorry that youve been doing all this alone. i promise ill be here for you. just tell me what you need and i will do everything to help you. youve changed me y/n.”

you look at him, with creased eyebrows, obviously still not trusting him fully.

“ill give you time.” husband!gojo sighs as he lets go of you to get ready for work. you still make him lunch that day.

husband!gojo who comes home and doesnt see you on the couch. he understands that he needs to wait for your response but there is a small part of him that is wondering whether or not you have left.

husband!gojo who sighs in relief when he opens the door to your shared bedroom, seeing you all dolled up in a pretty pj set, sitting comfy on the bed.

husband!gojo who smiles when he sees your face brighten in delight. you walk up to him.

husband!gojo who is surprised when you wrap your arms around him and kiss him with your soft lips. he groans into the kiss, regretting the fact the he never kissed you after the wedding.

husband!gojo who melts to your touch as your bring him to the bed. you remove his jacket and tie as your straddle him, kissing him more harshly.

husband!gojo who makes sure youre okay with with what’s going to happen next. he kisses you again when you say yes.

husband!gojo who takes his sweet time with you. stripping you from your garments,leaving you bare infront of him. he sinks his long fingers into your sopping cunt, your head lolling back in pleasure.

husband!gojo who’s eyes roll back when he finally tastes you. youre addcitive. he laps up your juices, swirling his tongue on your clit. you cum twice on your husband’s tongue, his hands holding your legs apart so they wont close. his fingers continues to scissor you until youre screaming.

husband!gojo who fucks you in missionary position, making sure to watch your face as your react to the pleasure hes giving you.

husband!gojo who cums inside of you only to turn that cum into a creamy mess around your pussy as he pounds into you some more. he can feel his creampie dripping out of you and down his balls.

husband!gojo who enjoys how loud youve become. moaning obscenities and calling him daddy. he wants to fuck you till your dumb!

“fuck princess, youre so fucking messy. fuc—nghh..” he tries to speak but your pussy is squeezing him too well he can barely get words out.

“please daddy!! i need—aghh.. i need you! dont stopp—ahh…” you groan as you have your fourth orgasm of night.

husband!gojo who watches hearts form in your eyes when he cums inside of you for the final time. you can feel his warmth trickling into your womb.

husband!gojo who pulls out and watches his loads flood out of you. he presses on your stomach, watching as more cum gushes out of you.

husband!gojo who brings a warm towel to wipe up the cream around your sex. you moan as he does so, still recovering from all of your orgasms.

husband!gojo who wraps you up into his arms once again, praising you for how well you did.

“you did so good love..” he says stroking your back.

husband!gojo who reminds you that he has fallen in love with you and will do anything and everything in his power to make sure that you are comfortable in this marriage with him.

husband!gojo who knows the two of you will be okay when you peck him on the lips and tell him that you love him.

#gojo x you #jujutsu gojo #gojo smut #gojo fluff #jjk gojo #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #gojou satoru x reader #gojo saturo #jujutsu kaisen

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lavender-devotion · 3 months

Text

The Radio Demon has a WIFE??? And She was a WHAT??? (Alastor x Fem!Reader)

Summary: Mimzy stops by and brings up a little detail that Alastor forgot to mention: he has a wife...oh yeah, and she used to be a nun. How the fuck did that happen??? -Or- I was watching 'Call the Midwife' and got Alastor brainrot ideas while watching the romance between Sister Bernadette/Sheila and Dr. Turner.

Tags: Fem!Reader (for obvious reasons), She/Her pronouns, No Use of (Y/N), everything I know about being a nun is from a TV show (don't kill me pls), Husk is...so fucking tired, also I couldn’t find a midwife house in New Orleans so I made one up (don’t kill me pls x2) TW: None, other than my possible terrible idiocy regarding nun shit and Catholicism, I feel like me being the author should also be a TW in and of itself ngl Word Count: 2.4k Read it on Ao3 <3

"WHAT?"

Husk winced as Angel's voice echoed throughout the lobby, loud and full of indignation.

"There is no fuckin' way tall, dark, an' creepy is married," he insisted, staring down Mimzy as she took another swig from her glass, "you've gotta be fuckin' with us, right Husk?"

Husk pointedly ignored the question, turning his back to the two idiots and their quickly gathering crowd of spectators—the other residents of the hotel. Alastor didn't like people talking about him unless it was with hate, fear, or admiration- (the arrogant fuck) -and he liked people spreading his personal business around even less.

He wasn't stupid enough to get involved in this conversation, even if Mimzy and Angel apparently were.

Mimzy laughed, "oh please, that's not even the best part! Alastor's sweetheart actually used to be a sister!"

"A sister?"

"Yeah-"

'Don't fuckin' say it-'

"-like a nun!"

'Motherfucker.'

That statement had Angel choking on his drink, everyone else letting out various exclamations of disbelief—all of which only made Mimzy's smile widen. She was enjoying the attention.

"Yeah," she continued, "the pretty thing was actually part of one of the few nunneries that were up and running back in our day—although hers also served as a sorta home base for the midwives in New Orleans before it all became a hospital affair."

"So not only did Smiles somehow manage to get 'imself a sweetheart, but he managed to bag a fuckin' NUN?!" Angel asked incredulously, "how the FUCK did that happen?"

Mimzy grinned mischievously, "well-"

"Mimzy," Husk said, caution and warning in his tone. It was one thing to drop a couple facts and then shut up—Alastor was fond of her- (as "fond" as the bastard was capable of) -so she might be able to get off with a warning—but to start telling stories about his life? Spilling all his carefully guarded secrets?

Yeah, that'd get her killed. Or worse.

Even so, Mimzy either didn't know how secretive Alastor was- (doubtful) -or she was just under the delusional belief that he wouldn't hurt her for her slight- (bingo) -because she just waved off Husk's warning.

"Hm...where should I start?"

---------------

What everyone in Hell tended to forget was that the cruel, bloodthirsty, "Radio Demon" they all feared...used to be a man, used to be human just like all the rest.

Quite the human he was, though.

Obviously he did his fair share of terrible things, he didn't end up in Hell for being a saint, but before any of his...transgressions came into the public eye, people truly thought he was. He'd come from a poor home, his father ran off when he was young, and yes he was an odd child—but all of that seemed inconsequential the older he got.

He worked hard in school and worked his way up in the world until he finally became a famous radio host, the crown jewel of the French Quarter. Even so, all of the attention never seemed to go to his head. His mother's son, always his mother's son, he was the picture of a true gentleman—always polite, always chivalrous, always helping others. It certainly didn't hurt that he was handsome too, and his charm was unmatched by any other man in the city.

As such, it was no shock that he attracted all manner of attention from people vying for his affection, but no one seemed to catch his particular eye. That was, until he met her...

---------------

“Now, keep in mind, I don’t know very much about his missus before they got together,” Mimzy admitted, “but, from what I can tell, she'd always been a mystery, so I don’t think it really matters-“

“Obviously it matters!” Angel interrupted, his drink and everything else long forgotten, “for someone to get together with Smiles willingly, they’ve gotta have some of their own skeletons in the closet! C’mon toots, you gotta know something.”

Mimzy circled a finger around her glass, playing coy, “well…maybe I might know a thing or two…”

Husk wanted to bash his head against a wall.

Fine, fine, fine. It was one thing—one really fucking stupid thing—to talk about Alastor, but to talk about his wife? Especially to fucking gossip about her?

Yeah, no, these morons were definitely dead as soon as Alastor found out.

“Well?” Angel pressed, looking downright desperate for more information.

“Well…”

---------------

Alastor's sweetheart had always been an enigma since the day she arrived in New Orleans, every bit of her covered in that modest black and white clothing—all except her face and hands, of course.

By all accounts, she was a sweet girl—kind, attentive, always willing to help—but she was also very…secretive, one might say. It wasn't that the other nuns weren't reserved, because they were, but she was especially so, and her brand of reservation came across as more underhanded than anything else.

She never talked about her hobbies, her family, her life before taking her vows—hell, she never talked about her life before she moved to New Orleans. So it was no surprise that a fair amount of rumors followed her around, no matter how sweet she appeared to be.

Some said that she was a runaway, trying to escape an abusive father; others said that she moved there to get out of a loveless marriage; and a few even claimed that she was on the run from the law. There was never any evidence to support any of those rumors, of course, but people loved to talk.

One might think that Alastor was drawn to her because of all of those whispers, just chasing down another story for his radio show, but it was actually a mix of pure luck and her work as a midwife that brought those two together.

You see, midwives didn't only deliver babies, but they also offered all sorts of medical assistance to anyone who needed it. These services eventually brought her to his mother’s home one day, and it just so happened that Alastor was also visiting his ma at the time.

The two started talking and, between his magnetic charms and her sweet demeanor, it was no surprise that the two got along like a house fire.

From then on, every time she visited his ma to take care of her, he was there too. Then he started showing up at all of the events hosted by Saint Charlene’s, always finding his way to her side. And there even came a time where he started visiting her frequently, always welcomed by her fellow sisters and the other midwives with open arms.

---------------

“Wait a minute,” Angel interrupted, “I thought nuns weren’t allowed ta be in relationships. It goes against the whole point of bein’ a nun, don’t it?”

Mimzy huffed, “I was getting to that part!”

---------------

Obviously nuns weren’t allowed to have relationships, romantic or sexual, and most people of that time didn’t believe that men and women could simply be friends—so the friendliness they both shared fell under quite a bit of scrutiny. Everyone that knew a thing about that sweet girl knew she would never betray her vows, and everyone that knew a thing about Alastor knew that he’d rather die than be anything less than a perfect gentleman.

But, like I said, people in New Orleans liked to talk.

Neither of them paid any mind to it, though. Alastor was already dealing with the bullshit that came with showbiz and his sweetheart already had a bunch of rumors circulating about her, so what did they care if a few more whispers were added to the pile? But eventually, a painfully long time after the two first met and became friends, there came a day when something that wasn’t quite platonic bloomed between the two of them.

Obviously the two of them were horrified by this; Alastor, because he would never ask her to forsake her vows for him, and her, because she was worried that she was betrayin’ her God by feeling that way.

Eventually she talked to the other nuns, though, and got some help figuring out her emotions and what she wanted to do, and Alastor talked things through with his ma—who was, frankly, overjoyed that he’d finally found someone who he fancied.

Let me tell ya, even with all of the others helpin’, it took fuckin’ forever for those two to finally get together. Between their shared emotional constipation, everyone’s expectations of them, the worry that the other didn’t feel the same way, and the fear of crossing each other’s boundaries…yeah, it took over a year after the two of them figured out they liked each other for them to actually say something.

By the time they finally got their shit together, Alastor’s mom and the other midwives were already planning their wedding. Hell, the nuns were just about ready to rescind her vows themselves, they were so sick of the pining!

Everything worked out in the end, though. The two confessed, his sweetheart did the whole dispensation thing, and the two eventually got married.

----------

“Blah, blah, blah…they got a happily ever after and a white picket fence,” Mimzy finished with a lazy wave of her hand, “so, that's the story."

Angel just stared at her, mouth hanging open slightly, “huh, I didn’t know tall, dark, and creepy had it in ‘im.”

Mimzy hummed, “yeah, he might seem all big an’ scary, but underneath all that he’s a total doll!”

Husk shuddered as the prickle of static suddenly made his hair stand on end, signaling Alastor’s entrance into the room—along with Charlie, Vaggie, and Lucifer himself. His eyes immediately found the small group that had gathered by the bar, and it probably wasn’t hard for him to figure out what exactly drew everyone there.

“Now, now, Mimzy, what have you been telling everyone about me?” Alastor chastised, making his way closer to their group. His tone was teasing, but it had a subtle warning at the end—one that said he wasn’t asking for shits n' giggles. It made Husk want to disappear into the wall, to get out of the way of what would follow if Alastor found out the subject of their conversation. Hopefully Angel and Mimzy would have enough sense to keep their mouths shut, but he doubted it.

“Oh, nothing you need ta worry about!” she said, waving him off playfully, “just a couple old stories from back in the day.”

“Is that so?”

Mimzy hummed her affirmative, finishing off her drink, and for one blissful moment Husk thought that the subject would drop and everything would be fine. He was wrong.

“Yeah, and I gotta say I’m surprised atcha Smiles,” Angel snarked, “who knew ya had a missus back home keeping ya on a leash.”

The room went dead silent.

The lights suddenly flickered, a dark red glow casting across the room as they did—mangled shadows dancing on the walls. Husk shrank back, trying his best to blend in with the bottles of alcohol that lined the shelf behind him.

Alastor’s voice was pure radio static, barely restrained rage filtering through, “w̶͚̫̰̰̟̌̆̓̚̚h̵̩̤̹͓̗̾̔͗̇̉å̴̱̩̝͚̎́̐̔̏͜†̸̡͔̲̠͔̔̎̆̀̕ ̸̲̠͔̟̗͗͑̾͐͘Ð̷̡̠̥̞͚̔̾̋̋͘ï̶̩̼̻̱̣̓̀̅͆̑Ð̸̣͍̞̬͖͋͑̽͗̚ ̶͈͙̤̺̲̒̒̒̎̀¥̷̭̻̥̘͈̇̓͑́́ð̵̢̲͕͈͇͐͊̓̀̓µ̴͕̬͕̟̟͊͊͂͗͘ ̵̪̲̫̳͍͑̑͒̔͐j̶̨̦̹̪̟̄̽̽̄͘µ̸̧̭͖͇̞̈́̔̀̒͒§̵̺̠͚͓͓̓͂̚͘͝†̷̛̖̤̰̗͓͋̄̇̑ ̸̢̩͙̙̫̊͗̃͘͝§̷̻̣̼̼͙̎͋̂͆͝ą̸̡̛̱̣̻̊̈́̈́̑́¥̶̢̟̼̘̲̃̿̐͑͠?̴͉̞̠̞̦̒͌̋͗̓”

‘Fuck.’

----------

You hummed quietly as you sat on the couch in your and Alastor’s shared home, sketching whatever came to mind in one of the small notebooks he’d bought you—working away the time and trying to ignore his glaring absence. It wasn’t often you were left yearning for your husband’s presence, finding plenty to do during the times he was gone, but today you wanted nothing more than for him to walk through the door. Luckily, you got your wish, although things certainly weren’t how you expected.

As soon as Alastor walked in, you could tell he was pissed. It was in his posture, his strained smile, the violent crackle of interference in the air. Even his shadow seemed agitated, flitting from one spot to another as if it simply couldn’t sit still.

“Al?” You asked carefully, “is everything alright?”

He turned to you, obviously trying to pass off the illusion of placidity, “everything is fine, my dear, why do you ask?”

“Well you just seem–” the lights around the house flickered, and you could hear a few of them bust in the other rooms, “...tense.”

He kept up the mask for a moment longer, still trying to fool you, but it dropped soon enough and he let out an irritated sigh.

“...certain people need to learn to keep their insignificant little mouths shut.”

You set aside your notebook and gestured for him to sit next to you, a request he obliged. Almost immediately your hands went to his shoulders and you began massaging them, trying to alleviate some of the tension practically radiating off of him—drawing an almost relieved sigh from his mouth.

You pressed a barely-there kiss to the back of his neck, “what happened, love?”

…

“Mimzy stopped by the hotel today and during her stay she decided to fucK̶̝̥̘̪͍̉͋́̈̅Ḭ̴̛̭̪͇̀͋̐̍͂͜ñ̷̡̤̩̖̰̈́͂̑̐͝G̴̞̯̭͈̘͋̒̑̅̚ ̵͇͕͓͕̗͆̃͛͊̂Ġ̶̝̱̪͈̘̽̌͗͝Ö̶̼̲̬̪̟̏̌̄̚͝§̴̺̱̲̫̝̍̈͆̃́§̶̧̞̣̼̮̂͊͋͌͠Ì̷̲̰̹̰͚͌̀̌̇̂þ̴̢̥̰̖̬͒́͌̏̿ ̸̝̺̪̟̈́͊̅̏̆ͅÄ̷͎̘͓̬͇̋̍͑̏͠ß̵̢̫͇̣̻́̊͆͆͝Ö̸̡̤̤̤͙̀̎̿͛͝Ú̸̟̯̺͈̪̇̓̊͐̊†̸̘̺͎͖̣̂̍̽̋̚ ̷̪̺̖̜͇̀͂͒̚͝Ö̴̮̯̗͙̑̆̽̄̚ͅỨ̸̫̯̰̺̼̈́̄̐͝R̸̨̢̧̭͓̒͊̋̇͘ ̵̧̥̗̰͖̅̌̒̿̃þ̶̦̞̫̙͕̈̒̀̿̚Ȩ̵̞̖̲͖̀͗̂̎͝͝R̸̢̪̟̜̮̉̌͒̉̃§̴̢̣͇̠̫̓̀̈͗̽Ö̴̟͕͓̤̀̈́̒͘͜͠ñ̶̛̙͍̼͖͔̎̓̐̋Ä̶̢̬͇͙̟̌͌̃̈͌L̴̨̪͎̟̦̄̇̈̓̿ ̶̨̧̰̼̮̈͒̀̒͝L̸͖̬̙̮̗̂̓̀͘̚Ì̴͙̠͈̺̣͌̓͊̓̓V̷̯̭̞̙͖͆̐̾͗̔Ę̴̪̻̤̀̾͑͆͜͝͝§̷̛͚̤͇̫̘̑͆̾͘.̵̡̥̪̫͇̽̋̑͝͝ §̶͎̣̝̳͓͋̊̀̌͆ð̵̢̼̖̝̭̏̇̕̕͝ ̵̘̜͚̠̫́͊̈́͐̽Ì̷̢̧͖͚͙̆̔̌̓̏ ̸̻̩̪͓̞̀͑͒̇͋†̴̧͉̯̻̳̒̽͋̾̋ð̵̟͙͍̳͈͒̈́̑̍̑ð̸̲̤̞̞̙̄̅͛̓͠k̷̖̪̩̭͇͋̒̀͘͘ ̶̢̛̗̞͍̱̒̅͐͘ï̸̢̢͕̩̰̍̍̽̈́̈́†̵̠̥̖̗̌̌̾̿͠ͅ ̵͙̹̦͎̬͆́̈͗͛µ̸̧̼̲̮̙͊͂̑̓͌þ̶̹̬̫̥̹̓̑̆͘͝ð̷̡̺͖̣̇̅̔͐͑ͅñ̸̼͙̦͕̼̏̐͗͘̕ ̵̢̱̺͖͋̄͌͊̊ͅṁ̸͉̜͙͖͍̓̍͗͝¥̶̨̠̜̮̜̑͑͗̎̌§̵̧̜͉̣̓́͛̇̓ͅḛ̸̠̲̝̤̂̓̎̓͌̈́ĺ̵̛̻̭͚̝̹̽͐̍£̵̠̫̲̹̬̍̊̾̍̕ ̴̧̭̘̞̀̀͋́̄͜†̵̨̰̠̫̖̎̋̃̂͘ð̴̨͍̭̤̙̄̑̎͝͠ ̴̯̟̟̖̜͒͂͌͒̉§̶̪̜̙͎͎́̒̍̾͝h̷̝̻̞̖̄̅̔̆̕͜µ̵̨̨̛̣̬͓̍̑͋́†̶̨̢̰̤͙̌̀̈̈́͆ ̴͔̟̻̫̐͊̓͑̉͜ĥ̴̢̯͔̯̈́̇̑͋͜ê̵̡̳̠͖̺͋͒͐̍̇r̸̝̘͍̙̂͑́̃͊ͅ w̷̸̼̠͓̟͍̣͓̪͚͊̈͗̉̄̊̍̍̇̀͜h̵̥͓͕̲͉̋̓͊́̈́ð̴̨̡͚̲̦̄̃̄̓͋r̸̖̲̮̮͐͌͑́̃ͅę̴͖͇͙̥̂̐͛͌͒̽ ṃ̷̨̱͈̭̀̃͂́͘ð̵̧̛͎̗̟̒̇̈̊ͅµ̴̨̛̖͈̱͈̑̋́̕†̵͚̝̜̟͍̔̈̀̈́̆h̵͚̞͔̗̖̀͒̀͛͘.̴̳̙̞̗̬͒́͆̂͂”

The sudden surge of static and shadow didn’t phase you, even as Alastor struggled to not shift into his demonic form—sharp cracks of green light appearing on the walls.

When you’d first found out about his…extracurricular activities, you had been afraid and confused, but now it was nothing more than background noise. He was still the man you fell in love with, still your husband, even if he occasionally killed and ate the degenerates of the world and anyone that pissed him off.

All things considered, you were just glad that you’d ended up in Hell with him, even if the things you'd had to do to ensure that were...distasteful.

You wrapped your arms around him, nestling your head into the crook of his neck. A luxury that no one else enjoyed but you.

“That does sound stressful. Is everything handled now, at least?”

“Yes,” he drawled, leaning back further into you, “unfortunately I was unable to get rid of the other l̷̡͈̼̘̩̾͌̉͝͠ï̸̗̭̝̥̺̈́̓̐̿̚†̴̢̡͕͖̹͌͌̋̈́͗†̸̢̣͖͚͔̓̌̉̾̐l̶̡̪͙͕͗͐̍́̕͜ę̴̡̦͕̜̂͋̏̅͘͝ ̵̰̥̩̺̪̀̋̉͑̍§̸̖̥̦̗͓̏̋̉̈́̃h̶͓͙̯͔͇̎̏̾̕̚ï̴̧̡̱̗̻̈́͗͆̃̀†̴̣̖̯̭͉̂͐͒̍̀§̵̧̡̹̼̹͒̿̍̋͠, as Charlie has taken a liking to them, but I trust that I got my point across.”

“Good.”

You pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek.

“Now…when do I get to meet these ‘little shits’ that get on your nerves so often?” you teased, drawing an amused chuckle from him.

“Don’t even start, darling.”

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x reader #devotion’s posts: fic stuff 🪻

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espinosaurusrexex · 3 months

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Bad Boys Don't Buy Flowers

CEO!BuckyBarnes x Female!Florist!Reader AU

read Steve's story here

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

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

word count: 16.4k 😬

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

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

"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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