Okay so I've seen both florist!Eddie and florist!Steve by now and I am a bit biased about these tropes. I love both of it for reasons and got thoughts about it.
Anyways, I can picture these two practicing latin flower names together. But they both have shit memories so their way of remembering the names is coming up with the weirdest terms ever. Like 'Imperator of the fries' for Frittillaria imperialis for example.
I can also see Eddie remembering names that sound like spells ( e.g. Corydalis cava) a lot easier because he feels like a wizard whenever he says them out loud.
Steve would be the one to easily remember names that just sound super dumb, like Tussilago farfara. He also likes that it sounds like an insult.
And then there's the name that send them into the biggest laughing fit so far. Cardiospermum halicabum. They've been a little high while learning this one and got carried away, leading to the sentence "just picture sperms doing cardio training!"and more laughing until their stomachs hurt. Needless to say, that name stuck best to both their memories.
AN: @nomadsgrogers this was the dream i had that i was talking about this morning and now i need another shower.
Words: 1.4K
Pairings: Steve X Reader
Warnings: This is smut, like porn without plot smut, fingering, handjobs, dirty talk, cum play
Summary: when steve comes home with your for your birthday weekend, you end up in your childhood bedroom, well rested and soft as hell for each other
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Your bedroom was hot in the morning when you woke up. The window was open, and the gulls cries drifted through the soft white of your open curtains, accompanied by the late morning sun. The blankets over your body were soft, and the arm that was thrown over your waist radiated heat and other warmth which had little to do with temperature.
Steve’s nose was buried in your neck, breath huffing over your collarbone as you lay on your back, Steve curled into your side. You shifted slightly and he grunted, burying his face deeper into your sweater. He had come home with you to celebrate your birthday, and while you had been dating for a while this was the very first time you had shared a bed.
In any way, shape or form.
Steve smacked his lips, breathing in deeply and pulling you closer to his chest. Your heart fluttered almost offensively and you could feel his lips curl into a smirk against your skin.
“Morning, pretty girl.” He hummed, voice low and husky and rumbling down your spine. You shifted and wrapped your arm around his neck, curling your hands into his hair and scratching his scalp. He sighed and wrapped one leg over your own, almost half on top of you now and you smiled.
“Hey, handsome. Sleep well?” You asked and he slowly adjusted himself to lean on an elbow, looking down at you and brushing a piece of bed hair from your face. He leaned down and kissed you slowly, lips warm and soft against your own, tongue moving lazily against your own and hand tight on your waist. He had since snuck his hand under the fabric of your sweater, pressing against your ribs and he relished in the way your heartbeat thudded against them.
“Best sleep I’ve had in years— decades, maybe a century.” He whispered against your lips. He kissed your chin, cheeks and jaw, lowering himself down to your neck where you felt his teeth graze your pulse and you gasped quietly.
“Oh, don’t be dramatic.” You giggled, breath catching in your throat and fingernails scratching his scalp just slightly harder than before.
“Not dramatic, sweetheart.” He grumbled, moving his hand lower over your stomach and teasing the waistband of your shorts with the tips of his fingers. His beard tickled your neck as he continued leaving small almost non-visible marks on the spot behind your earlobe. “Let me make you feel as relaxed as you make me feel, please, Sweetheart.”
Your heart thudded harder in your chest and he smirked when your hips rolled up into his touch. He continued to let his fingertips pull your waistband and you whined when he wouldn’t go any further.
“Stevie, please.” You whispered, knowing your parents were just down the hall. Sure, the door was closed but the way he chuckled against you made you want to scream.
“Please what, Pretty Girl?” He pulled away, watching your brow furrow and the smallest pout form on your lips. “Use your words.”
“Do something, I— make me feel good, please.” Your voice was small and your eyes were peering up at him with an innocent expression— one that had him swelling generously.
Instead of replying, he blushed and kissed you softly, fingers finally dipping further down and brushing over your cotton clad core. You were hot against his palm and he moaned against your lips, pressing over your clit with his thumb and making you jolt. Your fingers tightened in his hair and he only took that as encouragement, pushing your underwear to the side and dipping his pointer finger between your folds, collecting your musky slick and pulling away. You huffed and opened your mouth to complain until he sucked his own finger between his lips and moaned, eyelids fluttering.
“Perfect.” He said watching your eyes all into the back of your head when he slid two long, thick fingers into your cunt. His movements were slow and deliberate, because sure, he had slept with other women since he woke up, but you were not just other women.
He tried the moves that were often popular and repeated the ones that had you winding your fingers in his long hair just a little tighter and digging your nails slightly deeper into the skin of his forearm. He brushed his thumb against your clit softly and smiled when your thighs shook, having since thrown one over his waist, leaving you exposed to his hands.
It only took another few moments for you to be turning your face into his chest gathering the fabric of his t-shirt between your teeth and whining.
“I— can I cum, Steve, please?” You whimpered, dazed eyes looking up at his shocked expression before he gave you the most devilish grin and kissing you softly, biting your lip before pulling away.
“Cum for me, pretty girl. Show me how good I make you feel.” He smiled, granting you permission and humming when your back arched off the bed and your thighs shook, clenching around his hand as he worked you through your high. When you began to jolt away from his hot hands, he pulled away, kissing you softly and whispering praises as you came to.
“Hi, sweet thing.” He murmured when your gaze landed on his own. He wiped his hand on the sheets on the edge of the bed, and it was only when he shifted did you feel his hard length pressing into the side of your thigh, rutting slowly to relieve any sort of pressure that had built up.
“Hey, Stevie.” You replied.
“You’re so beautiful, love.” You rolled your eyes and shifted your thigh, loving the way he blushed and inhaled sharply at the movement against him.
“What about you, huh?” You asked, smirking up as the beautiful red flushed over his ears and cheeks and neck. He started shaking his head and opened his mouth to protest. Before he could make any sound, your hand slid down his flat stomach and ran under his shorts, wrapping your cold hand around the base of his cock.
He let out a small whimper, flinching at the temperature of your hand but simultaneously rutting into it. You moved slowly over him, using the gratuitous amount of pre-cum leaking from the sensitive head of his cock to make your movements smoother (thank you, super-soldier-serum). From what you could feel, he was big and thick and uncut and your jaw ached to be around him.
“Fuck, Stevie. This what you been hiding from me, then?” You murmured, nosing his chin and jaw and feeling the vibrations of his moan rumble in his chest and throat. Your thumb flicked over the head and he grunted into your hairline.
“Fuck, Pretty Girl.” He moaned. “Your hands are fuckin’ magical.” You smiled, raised one eyebrow before replying.
“Imagine my mouth, hot and wet around you. I’d let you wrap your hand in my hair and use me for your pleasure. ‘Magine my pussy around you. Riding you into the headboard at the compound, makin’ me moan so loud for everyone to hear. Make everyone know how good you make me feel.” You muttered, watching as his jaw dropped and he looked down at you wholly shocked by the filth coming out of your mouth.
“Wanna cum.” He grunted soon, and you tightened your fingers around him, putting more pressure on the bottom of his cock and using your other hand to roll his balls gently until they tightened. He pulled up the hem of your sweater up and pulled down the blanket as to not leave any stains on any fabric for your parents to find.
“Do it, then.”
And he did, hot white streaks of cum painted your stomach in large spurts. His hips jerked with every clench of his orgasm and he clenched his jaw, hiding his face in your rose printed-sheets and biting to stifle any alerting sounds.
Once he had ridden his high out, he fell back against the sheets, eyes closed against the gold of the sun and the sound of your rapid breaths. There was a silent period that followed, both of you in shock of the filth that had preceded this very moment.
“I don’t think I ever did tell you about how much I liked your Star Wars posters.” He whispered after a while and you looked over to him, finding that he was already looking over at you and bursting into a loud fit of laughter.
“I adore you, Y/N.” He smiled.
“Good, ‘M not goin’ anywhere.” You replied, winking back at him.
Moodboard request: Flower Shop AU with a Marvel character of your choice!
Florist!Steve
Steve, who opens a shop right in the middle of Brooklyn, drives a van that is very much past its prime and hates Valentine’s Day with abandon. Steve, who makes sure there is always lavender and sweet pea and blue delphinium in stock for the girl who always comes once a week from across the borough. Steve, who sweeps the floors at night and keeps broken-off flowers so he can stick them in little nooks, or drops them to float in puddles after a day of rain just on the off chance that it will make someone smile in the morning.
In which Y/N receives a gift, and Bucky says thank you
Lots of Stucky int his one! Fluffy, healthy stucky relationship!
Warnings: nsfw themes
words: 2.8K
prologue
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Flora and Fauna, 346 Park Avenue, Manhattan New York
It was another cool, rainy August day for Y/N Y/L/N and she wasn’t even able to walk down the set of stairs from her apartment down to the garden space below without walking back up for another thick sweater. The cool air-conditioned space of her home gave way tot he almost sweltering heat of the plant store below, allowing all of the plants there to thrive and dance in he presence. Her baggy denim overalls and a loose green shirt flowed as she walked, and the chains around her neck tinkled with every step. She walked through the crowded aisles of the store, and brushed her fingertips over each and every leaf she passed, making them greener and more lively than seconds before.
Her soft fingertips landed on the open to close sign and flipped it open, tracing the protruding lines of the paint that her little cousin had created. Her cat, Oscar, brushed around her ankles as she blinked out into the already-busy streets of downtown New York.
“Hey, Kitten.” She hummed, bending down and scooping the fluffy cat into her arms with ease. The fur gave him a deceiving appearance, and while he looked to be around ten pounds, he truly only weighed four and a half. He licked her chin and wiggled out of her grasp when she walked closer to the front desk, sashaying his way over to his food and water, on the far side of the counter.
It was a rapid series of knocks that truly woke her up. She hurried to the back, making sure that nobody would walk in on this cold, rainy day and swung open the rickety screen door to find a large moving truck and an obese man, sweating but smiling pleasantly.
“Hello,” she spoke, ushering him inside and away from the rain. He gratefully stepped inside and shook her hand with his own dead fish handshake. “What can I do for you, Sir?” She smiled, wiping her hand on her green apron.
“There’s a shipping here for you, from one S. Rogers?” He squinted at the clipboard in his hand, and she blinked up at him at him stupidly.
“I didn’t order anything— I can only afford one shipment a month. I got one last week and—“
“Ma’am.” The old man stopped her with a smile, and a heavy hand to her shoulder. She furrowed her brows at him and was about to ask what was really going on when he opened his mouth to speak. “Everything is paid for— all you have to do is sign on the dotted line, and help move all the plants in, and you’re good to go.”
“What?” Y/N found her chest blooming with warmth because whoever this Rogers guy was had spent well over one thousand dollars to get her a truckload of plants that were already keening for her attention.
The moving process took about one hour, and she spent the rest of the day rearranging plants and shelves to make them all accessible. In that time, she managed to serve several customers and only trip over Oscar three times, each accompanied by a ‘dammit, cat!’.
By the time noon rolled around, she had arranged the green, leafy, and floral additions in a way that took her breath away. The humid air was so thick with fresh scents that Y/N swore she was almost high on the fumes. She picked up her shattered phone and took a few pictures for her rapidly growing Instagram page, editing them and uploading them quickly.
‘heres to the kindness of strangers. Thank you, S. Rogers, for the surprise shipment :)’
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Avengers Tower, 200 Park Avenue, Manhattan
Steve Rogers was sure this was the third meeting of the day, and the regular coffee he kept getting from the kitchen down the hall was doing nothing for his drooping eyes and his wandering attention. Wanda had suggested tea, but Steve wasn’t too fond of the drink— too boring in his opinion. Tony was off rambling about some local group wreaking havoc on local enhanced individuals, and Steve really should care, he really should but when there were threats all over the world, it seemed that one little New York hate group was a simple little parasite that would eventually befall itself.
He sat back in his rolling chair, legs spread and arms folded across his chest and felt a warm zing of electricity when Bucky’s flesh hand landed on his upper thigh— nothing sexual, just an absent touch that had made Steve fall for his best friend so many eons ago. The other man's thumb raced patterns against Steve’s jeans, and he found himself relaxing even more under his lovers' touch.
“You as bored as I am?” Bucky wrote on a pad of paper, nudging it in his direction and watching Steve fight back a childish grin.
“Probably even more bored, Jerk.” He wrote back with a wink and flashed Bucky a tiny smile when he heard him huff out a laugh. Steve noticed a notification popped up on his phone, and he held it under the table as he pressed his thumb onto the home screen to check it.
‘flora and fauna has posted a new picture’
He saw the inside of the store in the new picture, brimming to the roof with the plants he had sent her, and a happy smile spread across his face, tapping the heart at the bottom of the picture and commenting ‘glad u liked them! :)’ quickly. Steve had failed to notice the absence of Bucky’s hand on his thigh as he clicked on her page, scrolling absently for a few minutes.
“Hey, Cap. Eyes up, yeah?” Starks' voice brought Steve out of his heart eyes moment, and he blinked a few times to find everyone looking at him with expressions of disbelief on their faces.
“Sorry, Boss.” He replied quickly, placing his phone face down and sitting with his posture straight. Bucky, who was still looking at his love, shook his head and glanced at the Captains phone, curious as to who he had been paying attention to.
“You too, Elsa.” Tony threw a pen in Bucky’s direction, which Bucky caught and tucked behind his ear, smirking when Tony gave him his ‘im running out of patience’ look before searching for another pen and continuing his lecture.
He and Tony, while still tense around each other had begun to develop a relationship akin to step siblings that had moved in together when they were midway through teenage years. It was awkward a lot of the time, and the picked on each other, but they protected each other in a way that was unspoken. Not healthy, but not exactly unhealthy either.
The meeting adjured rather soon after, and Bucky and Steve left side by side, heading together to train the new recruits who (in their very personal opinion) were worse for wear.
“Steve?” Bucky asked, once they got into the change rooms and swung open their lockers across from each other. Bucky found his heart beating quickly in his chest.
“Yes, Sweets?” He replied, shucking his shirt over his head and turning around to look at his boyfriend of eighty years.
“Am I enough? For you?” He asked, his voice wavering slightly. Steve looked sharply towards him and stepped over the bench that separated them, dropping his Under Armour shirt on the ground and immediately cradling his face in his large, hard hands. Before even saying anything response, Steve planted a soft kiss on Bucky’s lips, brushing the tips of their noses together and pulling away with a nip to his bottom lip.
“What the hell do you mean by that, James.” He whispered, brushing his thumbs over his boyfriends' scruffy cheeks. He kissed the tip of Bucky’s nose and continued peppering kisses over his cheeks, forehead, and jaw before finding his favorite place in the crook of Bucky’s neck— right over his pulse point.
“I just— I feel like you’re— we’re missing something. It’s been eighty years, I know and I wouldn’t want it any other way, but I don’t know. I feel like there needs to be more to us.” Bucky rambled, wrapping his arms around Steve’s narrow waist and pulling him closer.
“I will love you until the end of the line,” Steve mumbled against his boyfriend's neck, nipping and kissing the sensitive skin behind his ear. Bucky hummed under his touch and gripped Steve’s rapidly growing hair with his metal fist, pulling him closer with a purr. “If you want to find something more for us, I will gladly accept that. No judgment, no fear, all love. I ould be more thanhappy to find someone to share our love.”
“Promise?” Bucky’s voice shook not only with emotion and relief but with arousal at his boyfriends’ ministrations.
“Always, Buck.” And with the high of previous worries lifted from his shoulders, he sank to his knees and properly thanked Steve Rogers for being the best boyfriend out there.
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Flora and Fauna, 346 Park Avenue, Manhattan
Y/N had locked the door an hour ago, flipping the homemade sign to ‘closed’ and continuing to sweep and water all the plants that needed to be taken care of. The National played loud over the store speakers, and Y/N danced around with her broom, spinning it around and singing into the end of it as if it were her microphone. It hadn’t crossed her mind that people could still see her bounce around with the antique watering can in one hand and Swiffer duster in the other until she spun towards the door and let out a tiny frightened yelp.
Because there, about to pull on the stores front door was one Winter Soldier. She watched him tug at the handle once, twice and a third time before he cupped his hands around the glass and peered in, eyes immediately finding her own.
She was frozen for only three seconds before she dropped the Swiffer to the floor and slid the watering can onto the front desk before nervously wiping her hands on her pant legs (she had since taken off her apron), and fiddling with the keys, struggling to fit them in much to Bucky’s amusement.
She flung open the door and openly gaped at the former assassin. She had long been a fan of the Avengers, and when James Barnes went through his legal trial, she had followed it religiously, always taking part in online forums and supporting those who wanted him to walk as a free man. She could see how much the legal trial still affected him, as the bags under his eyes were prominent, and the hair he had tied back in a velvet scrunchie (wanda had gotten them for him) looked a little too shiny to be clean.
“Oh my God, hi. You’re James Barnes- I followed your trial last month and I’m so happy you got acquitted.” Her hand burst forth, and he took it warily with his flesh hand, her eagerness to meet him throwing him off guard. If Y/N hadn’t been so excited, she would have noticed the way her body immediately reacted to his own. She would have noticed the way her arm hair stood on end, and the way snakes seemed to slither in her lower stomach. She would have noticed the flush of her chest, and the dilation of her pupils as she took this huge model of a man in, drinking him in for everything he was worth.
“Bucky. Please, my name is Bucky.” He smiled down at her. If she had missed the way her body reacted, he did not miss it, and held back a smirk at the way she fell into a pile of mush in his hand. He didn’t miss the way his own body exploded, a chill went down his spine— one that had only taken place late night in his and Steve’s bed, among heavy breaths and whispered words of pleasure.
“Bucky, okay.” She breathed, excited. The way she said his name made his mouth feel too hot and his lips parted in reaction. “What can I do for you, Bucky?”
“I was going to get some flowers for someone. They recently became open to an idea that I’ve wanted for a while, and I want to show them how much I appreciate it.” He said, smiling widely and holding her hand in both of his. Was this really going to be that easy?
She broke out into a wide smile that made Bucky’s heart hammer in his chest. He thought it really may actually be easier.
“Maybe some roses?” He asked, wiping his combat boots on the welcome rug and showing his hands into his pocket. He still wore a leather glove over his metal hand, not yet ready for the Wakandan prothetic to be showcased to the world.
She wrinkled her nose in disgust and scoffed under her breath. A reaction that made his eyebrows shoot into his hairline and his eyes widen.
“What was that for?” He asked, a smile pulling at one corner of his lips. She turned back to him and leaned against the counter, sipping her heavily sweetened coffee and staring at him emptily through her lashes. He ignored the way his lions reacted to the look.
“Roses are tacky so I don’t carry them.” Her reply was short, and the curt response made him throw his head back in laughter, filling the room with joy. Y/N would be damned if she never wanted to hear that laugh again.
“Oh yeah? What flowers would you get to express gratitude then?” He thanked her quickly as she gave him a mug of coffee and waved him into the back to where the extra floors from the shipment this morning were.
“These are some flowers I don’t have on the floor yet, so I usually use them for deliveries. I love Sweet Pea flowers for thank you. They’re very real and when they’re in bushels they look kind of messy, but that adds some sort of beauty to them? Kind of like showing gratitude, I guess— messy but beautiful all the same.” She smiled, motioning to the pots of Sweets on one of the middle shelves. He walked forward and his flesh hand traced the soft, odd-looking flower, and Y/N would be lying if she said she wasn’t surprised by the care he took in admiring it.
“What do you mean? Thank you’s are messy and beautiful.” He said, leaning in a smiling the flower. They swayed under his attention and Y/N smiled softly— the flowers in her shop seemed to have spirits of their own, and it wasn’t just coincidence they danced when she was in a room.
“Well, no real thank you is graceful and well put together. Those are usually the ones that aren’t genuine.” She spoke softly, sipping her coffee and smiling at him with a closed mouth when he looked over at her. His eyes scanned her body up and down and when he met her eyes, she was blushing under the weight of his gaze.
“You’re very smart, you know.” He said, picking up the pot and wrapping his clothed metal arm around it. “What’s your name?”
“Y/N Y/L/N.”
“I’ll get these, then Y/N Y/L/N. You’re one hell of a saleswoman.”
“Oh, you can just take them. A gift for you.” She smiled, watching as he walked over to her, digging in his jean pockets for a bill.
“No, I could never—“
“I’m serious, Mr. Barnes. Take them.” She whispered. He was suddenly very close to her. He took her hand in his own, and slipped a hundred dollar bill in her fist, backing away through the green room door.
“A tip for you, then. It was wonderful seeing you, Y/N.” He called out as he left the store, leaving Y/N shaking in the back room with a rush of excitement and joy.
It wasn’t until Oscar brushed up against her, purring as his tail wrapped around her calf, that she broke out of her reverie and scooped him up in her arms, jumping around and squealing in a way she hadn’t since One Direction had announced they were coming to New York for the third time.
“That just happened! Oh my God, Oscar! That happened!” She yelled, frightening the cat to his very core. She didn’t care though, because she had just given Bucky Barnes sweet pea flowers, a coffee, and a smile.
