#I have met with an obsessive fate

[stupidhany]

I don't have much to offer get happy mask salesman'd

[deus-ex-mona]

stretching to interpret nonfan as an aiyuu song like

[travelerclondike]

I love how in the tags and comments, everyone is like “THE HORRORS!!!” Which… yes. <3 But I honestly love playing with the concept of soulmates, but that's also because many of my stories delve into the concept of fate. But being Ace myself, soulmates aren't usually romantic. They're one's second half, the only one who truly and fully understands how the other's mind works, who each has almost a second sense when their “other” is in danger, the one each is forever tied to whether or not they can comprehend how or why it's them who are made for each other. I never thought to use anything like a mark or first words or hands or anything, but my gosh, playing with the concept brings out ALLLL THE DRAMA. I weep, I drool, I laugh. 

Because on the one hand, with so, SO many relationship combos, romantic soulmates are actually pretty rare so while everyone would just love to find that perfect connection, most understand the odds of finding your one true love as your future spouse is unrealistic to strive for. But that doesn't mean you're doomed to be alone, just know that you can still meet someone, fall madly in love, get married, have kids, and still understand that when things get rough, you may both have someone else you storm off to vent at because they understand you well enough to say if you're being crazy or unreasonable or share enough of that connection that the advice (whether good advice or not) cools the internal turmoil and makes you feel like something you probably should have seen or thought of yourself in the heat of the moment. Even in that world, lovers are probably idealized because it sounds like perfection in theory, but anyone who has actually found their soulmate knows even that wouldn't be without conflict. 

Family:

In these worlds, it's probably considered “lucky” when the soulmate turns out to be a family member because those on the outside may gush about how fortunate it must be to have that connection with someone you've known your whole life and save you ~all the trouble~ of searching for that level of bond. But the “lucky” people may not feel so lucky because it both leaves a TON of uncertainty for the future and a sort of bitterness that fate would pair you with a family member giving a feeling of being cut off from some of the joys others have in the discovery. After all, if you’re free to find and marry whoever you want instead of hoping fate will give it to you, it probably feels a little daunting. Like if your other half is a sibling, are you even meant to marry at all? But maybe they realize they don’t want to be with anyone, and can still vent or cry to their loved one about any other life’s troubles. Like I’m sure as a teen there would be some disgust while everyone is wondering if their classroom crush is “the one” there’s this kid over here going “ugh, I’m already tied to my mom, how fucking embarrassing” and trying to deny it while their friends are like “I wish my parents were so understanding / I wish I could go do all those fun things every weekend with my mom…” and no, no you don’t. But honestly having a sibling, parent, cousin, aunt, uncle, may be appreciated further down the line. 

This can cause a bit of tensions though with the rest of the family like feeling left out (if its between two siblings and a third sibling just doesn’t fit in), favoritism, maybe the other parent swears sometimes they’re always the bad guy or being teamed up on because the other and child have that sort of shared interest or mindset for mischief, the parents upset that kid is so much closer with other relative that didn’t raise them and seems to light up whenever they visit. Maybe one sibling is on bad terms with the rest of the family or in denial and desperate to get away only to have their other sibling somehow be the one to track them down and try to reason with them. How did they know where to find them? It’s just a feeling they had they knew where they’d go. If things with the family are really bad, the siblings may even leave together if they can convince each other, but how that affects the rest of the family is open for some heartache or bitterness. 

Best Friends: 

We all know the trope of found family and such, but sometimes the person you’re meant to be with does feel like you could be related when finding that perfect match. It’s not always like an instant click (just like love at first sight is uncommon) but there’s a certain point when hanging out that people really do look at these two and tease how they must be separated at birth, secretly lovers, or have just spent WAY too much time together because appear to share the same brain cell. Friendships are a little more tricky though, because there’s a lot of people one can be friends with, and even close with, but just like with lovers, how do you know THIS friend is the one who’s there forever even if you sometimes drift apart? And it’s a bit of weird line because if a pair does sync up that well and feel like they complete each other, there’s probably the outside pressure that maybe they SHOULD get married and move in together and be perfect and… no. They’re just friends, practically siblings, something “more” than siblings if that’s even possible, but they don’t love each other like that. In fact, it’s perfectly normal in this world for each half of this pairing to marry others but the spouses are in no way surprised when these two disappear for a “girls night out”, camping trips, road trips to sporting events, over at one house or the other almost constantly, meeting for breakfast every Saturday, or whatever it is they like to do together that spouse may or may not have any interest in. And you know what? That’s great if they have someone they can share all of those things with outside the family to get some time away from it all. But… depending on how it’s handled, just like the BFF can be seen as part of each other’s families, there’s just as much risk of maybe getting disconnected from the family. Spouse getting frustrated about the finances on this hobby, or if it seems like they’re being left home a lot, or if the bros are watching tv in the livingroom while wife is being asked to grab things for them so they don’t have to leave the game, or the spouse starts to wonder if there really is more to it than they’re letting on. What secrets do they share? How does it feel knowing you’re never going to fully understand or have that connection like they do with someone else? However, the funny thing is, if the BFFS are already paired, there’s a good chance the spouses also have soulmates they can go out and do fun things with or spend hours on the phone, or go and vent to about lover’s stupid hobbies when they’re frustrated. That is… if they’ve found theirs yet. Which can also lead to the potential dramas where they find their soulmate after they marry, is it romantic? That’s some internal conflict and red flags right there. And potentially opens the way for fics of BFFs where one is just really helping the other out after their lover left them, or trying to keep them from doing something stupid if they were cheated on. 

Lovers: 

In the off chance someone DOES find that their forever and ever is actually a romantic partner, that still doesn’t mean it’s all rainbows and sunshine. It just means that their sense of communication and predicting each other’s actions is often on point to a level it can be annoying or hilarious depending on what they do with this knowledge. Like surprises might be hard when they know each other so well to guess what they’re planning or would like to do, but it can be funny when one tries to bring up something and other is totally alright with it because they already knew they were going do that. Word of advice before you run off? It’s also nice that whenever outside stuff is getting to them, they can come home to their spouse and having a deep, meaningful conversation and get some advice without being judged too harshly. Maybe it’s about work, maybe it’s just needing some encouragement, maybe it’s being allowed to be fully vulnerable with their partner when no one else is allowed to see that side of them. But my gosh, when a fight breaks out, it’s usually a case of “you’re both being stupid, stop it” as any of their friends will probably tell them. Because LOVER OF ALL PEOPLE SHOULD UNDERSTAND!!! Yes, but BECAUSE THEY KNOW WHY THEY’RE DOING THIS, DOESN’T MAKE IT ANY LESS RECKLESS / STUPID / PETTY AND THEY’RE TRYING TO REASON WITH THEM!! Synchronized huffing and storming off ensues until they can cool down and come back for the forgiveness and heart to heart. This doesn’t take away from poly-ships, but it does make things a bit more complicated when two in the set are ~fated mates~ but they love the other(s) none the less. The other mate may sometimes feel like a third wheel when it seems like they just don’t share that same connection as the two have, and may run into an argument where one storms off and the other half of the soulmates is like “I’ll calm them down / talk to them” to try to patch things, but that only makes it worse. On the other hand, the polys are fun when exploring all the different reasons they may be in this relationship. Maybe there is a triangle, where the soulmates have that connection, sure, they both fell in love with third member here and are more BFFS with each other. Maybe one member in the relationship is more there for physical affection and doesn’t mind the other two going off to their own activities to feed their interests. Maybe poly already knows their soulmate is someone not a lover (like the previous examples) and falling in love with these two (or more) just sort of happened and they never imagined they could still be so happy. Maybe none of them are soulmates and it’s someone with a family ship, someone with a BFF ship, and someone who hasn’t found theirs yet but it doesn’t matter because they’ve found each other while still able to do things with their pairings outside the group. 

A subcategory of this is naturally the ~fated lovers~ who just have all the obstacles in the way. Maybe someone is in love with one and refuses to acknowledge they’re meant for someone else. Maybe it’s a parent who sees who their kid has fallen in love with and ABSOLUTELY FLIPS OUT because look at this punk. Look at this jerk. Look at this unattainable princess that’s going to get you killed trying to reach. Maybe there’s actual obstacles in the way such as distance or borders or hierarchy. But those are the tales we love to see overcome. 

Odd and Maybe Even Unfair:

I’m not sure of a catch all for this category, but basically these are the mixed blessings to find your soulmate only to have a caveat that makes one want to curse whatever god thought that would be funny. 

Like mentor / student. One the one hand, it’s so nice to see tales of a kid who meets the bitter and lonely teacher who ends up changing each other’s lives. Some level of fate brought them together, and something about THIS kid made the old mentor want to take them in and protect them and teach them all they know and become like a second mother / father to them and the kid may be flustered at first but they keep coming back and learn quickly and soon they’re to fight for this once stranger through thick and thin because they have a connection that can’t be understood. But it’s also… weird. Like usually the mentor in question is middle aged or even old and suddenly they’ve found a companion who gives them life and completes them in a way they haven’t thought was even possible for a long, long time, yet at the same time in a world where these kind of meetings are fate, I’m certain there’s a level of swearing at the gods why the mentor should only find such companionship so late. They may have long since given up on ever finding a soulmate or feel like they’ve lived their whole life already getting married, having kids, kids out of the house (usually with a strained relationship in these stories that new kid helps them fix) and NOW the gods have sent them someone to bond with? Not ten, twenty, fifty years ago when they could have enjoyed it? And to have it be someone half, a third, a fourth their age when they find them?? Or the kid to realize while they have someone who they may relate to better than their own family, it’s someone less than ideal, heck total stranger when they met, and likely someone they’re going to outlive. Maybe the outside forces find this weird too. Why does kid keep going to mentor’s place? Is it like a neighbor or gym or after school? Maybe it started as a job but the job is over. Maybe their friends and family don’t like the influence mentor is having on them (like a gang not sure about punishment turning into member is planning on leaving now that mentor has helped them clean up, a parent who thinks what they’re learning is fine as a hobby but now it’s going too far with them wanting to make a career of it, maybe they don’t like the skill being taught in general, ect) In a similar vein is the “suddenly parent” situations where they may have been brought together by crisis, maybe the kid just lost EVERYTHING, and now the adult is flipping out internally because they felt an immediate need to help the kid, but now what? They… have a kid now, as granted to them by fate. Or they have outside obstacles telling them even if they did feel that sudden need to look after them, they need to get back to their family / be turned over to the authorities / go back where they belong but, but, but… … … 

Doomed lovers could be in the above category, but it’s a whole different level of cursing at the gods to have your soulmate only to be ripped apart. Why would they deem you should find your forever and ever only to have it be so short? How are you supposed to keep going when it feels like a part of your soul has died? This may even be on the other side of the cheating coin where it’s not death that keeps them apart but what are they supposed to do if they only found each other too late? When family complications have gotten in the way or old age or when just passing through a city and found a local you’re soon to be ten thousand miles away from? Sure fate deems that everyone will meet their soulmate once in their life, but must it only be this once? What about the enemies to lovers where the love is forbidden by family / country / societal ties and even if they’ve realized they complete each other, they also realize all their meetings may have to be in secret or risk their life for it? Is such a love even worth risking life and limb for? 

Then of course is the complete opposite of the BFFS where they’re not lovers, and don’t become lovers either, but outright nemesis. Different from the enemies to lovers, they genuinely despise each other and just CAN’T figure out why their paths keep crossing unless one is in pursuit of the other. And even then, how does pursuer keep finding them?? Because they know each other, OHHHHH they know each other so well, they could dangerous if they weren’t two sides of the same coin. If one could just convince the other they should be on the same side…. But which side will give in first? The hero to become a villain or the villain to start to redeem themselves? Is there even a hero / villain dynamic or are they both just haughty and dysfunctional and seem evenly matched even as it pisses each other off? Why, WHY would the gods give them a soulmate who shares all of their same interests and seems to understand their mindset but has a twisted perspective when making it sound reasonable when moral compass says it shouldn’t be? Sometimes such a quandary can lead to obsession since they’re attracted to each other and yet it’s maddening that the ONE PERSON IN THE WORLD who fully and truly understands them is someone they can’t stand. 

And of course the “we found them, but at what cost?” Because yes fate has a funny way of getting them together across great distance or across hierarchy or any other circumstance brought up before. But what kind of crazy twist did one have to take to end up there? Like meeting someone in a new land after being forced to flee their home, or tales where they’re part of a captured collective and at least they’ve found companionship or even love to pull them through the ordeal until they can get out of the situation, or maybe they only met because one got badly injured / wounded and found the one to help them / heal them is their destined mate. What of those who only discovered their soulmate after dropping a societal tier due to finances or politics stripping them of their original position? But, um, silver lining, they found something better? 

Forced:

Not really a category, but in one particular world I play with this concept the most in, is the terrifying dark art of soulbinding. This is different from soulmates, because it’s completely unnatural, and brought about by ritual. It breaks things for one, where if one were soulbound, how does that damage things with their actual soulmate if they’ve been tied to another? Not to mention, the connection between these two is almost painful because the mental sync is heightened to a point of control. The point of this practice isn’t for humans though. It’s a means to capture the gods themselves, or try at least, often with terrible consequences. Usually in that the gods don’t take lightly to this and will try to use that tether to take control of the fool arrogant enough to try to command their power. In ancient days it was used as a last resort as a sort of sacrifice to the gods that this puppet be used to harness their power for the sake of the people or the lands, thinking that one who was soulbound actually lost their soul and would die when the vessel was no longer needed, but it was only a matter of time before someone tried to test that to its limits. There’s also a ritual that requires three people, with two being soulbound by The Entity, which in effect also ties to them to each other, and a third who is charged by fate with severing the power when the time is right, but there’s only one surviving case where we see that the tie is never really gone; either to each other, or their secret power source even if the power imbued is greatly diminished. This is the only time marks come up, but it’s not a mark that shows their fate, it’s the mark left by the gods that shows they’ve been taken.

This is way too long, but ahhhhh the strings. Strings everywhere it seems.

i can never write a soulmates au cause i very quickly stop thinking about romance and start thinking about the sociological implications of a world where soulmates are a confirmed verifiable thing

[eraserbread]

Obsessed with your Nanamin ♡ Also obsessed with the idea of our boy being a virgin before he meets his wife so she's his one and only. Wow I wish he was real.

four weeks into dating, and kento's barely even grazed your hand. it's not that he doesn't like you, because he does a little too much. you're all he thinks about -- all he pines and stews over when he's alone.

you two met in the odd space between high school and the thought of university where nanami was finally feeling the toll sorcery was taking on him, only going out once a week to drink his guilt away. it’s there, at dinner with co-workers that he meets you — a mutual friend of his desk mate who had a little too much to drink one night.

now, nineteen-year-old nanami was not the nicest. he drank and spent his sleepless nights staring at walls, begging for a reason, or just purpose.

he has terrible insomnia because he sees the ones he lost to curses every time he closes his eyes. it’s why he left sorcery in the first place. he’s not strong. he’s barely capable of keeping his own head up. call it teenage angst, but nanami will call it his burdensome state.

eighteen year old you was full-spirited and beautiful. you always had friends begging to go out drinking and partying. that year was a whirlwind of nasty hookups, terrible hangovers and love-lust. safe to say, you and kento were complete opposites.

all that to say — opposites do attract, and nanami's been obsessed with you ever since that fateful drunken night.

it was one particular morning date over two cups of strong coffee that you finally poke a little further than the stupid childhood stories and plans for the future. you want him to touch you.

"i won't lie, i've been waiting for you to touch me this whole time." it feels embarrassing to finally say out loud, but you didn't know how many more hints you had to give him.

he stills over his sip of coffee, vibrant hazel eyes going stagnant. you can tell you finally got him -- you sparked a reaction.

that day, as soon as he gets you home, he's pushing you on the bed. nanami's all heavy breaths as he crawls over you in the afternoon light, biting over his bottom lip as he meets your gaze.

"i'll try and be gentle..." he whispers before sliding down and tucking his head under your loose t-shirt. kento fits so perfectly there, purring against your warmth as he kisses up your stomach, lips finding their home against your lower sternum.

you're blushed down to your toes, rocking your knees together under kento's lanky frame. he's got you on lock, left hand finding your wrist against his sheets to hold you there.

you've never been this intimate. he's closer to your heart than you are.

"can you breathe down there?" you whisper, breathing harder when you feel him drag to your left nipple.

"mhm." he responds, vibrating the entirety of your body. he gives your nipple a little experimental lick, stopping to gauge your whining reaction. "breathin' you."

"fuck, kento."

he's blushing so fucking hard when he comes out from under your shirt, golden hair ruffled with static. it gives you something adjacent to cuteness aggression, you just want to kiss him already.

it's missionary that first time -- he hovers over you like a angel, pretty eyes screwed shut as the tip of his cock drags slowly through your slit. it's driving you crazy, all this build-up, but nanami can't stop. he fucking loves the way touching you like this felt, this was enough.

"you won't... it's not gonna hurt me, just do it. put it in." it's your final, desperate plea for more, but he's too caught in his head. he shakes it.

"i can't... i can't cause i'm gonna - I'll finish." he's tucking his cheek into his shoulder, whining low as he guides his tip across your entrance. it dips so perfectly there like it's meant to fit, but he just doesn't do it.

it's actually starting to get annoying.

deep down you have an inkling he doesn't really know what he's doing. but, it's okay because neither do you. you know that his lips on your sternum felt good, but the thought of his body inside of yours felt even better.

you just wanted him to take you. you've never wanted something more.

you whine. "nanami, what are you so afraid of?" you try, snaking hand up his naked back to the base of his neck. he shivers hard at your touch but he loves it.

"don't wanna... oh, baby..." he murmurs when your fingers find the tension knot just at the base, using strong fingers to massage over it. "just don't wanna hurt you."

"the only thing that'll hurt me is if you leave. just don't leave me," you pull him close, hugging both arms around the back of his neck.

"so, just put it in... please, please please."

[gyaruhana]

please do one where Thanos starts off as your unlikely ally in the games, protecting you from danger and helping you survive. Over time, his protectiveness becomes obsessive, and he begins eliminating anyone he sees as a threat to keeping you by his side even as you start to notice his unsettling behavior you can’t escape his grasp🙏

Thanos/Choi Su-Bong - yandere bf

Synopsis: In an attempt to escape from Thanos, you join a game promising money that will help you escape him. Unfortunately, he also seemed to have joined the game.

A/N: I may have combined this with two other requests bc they were all so similar so.. i hope thats okay !!

Warning: yandere thanos, choking

If you had told your younger self you’d be in a game of death with 45.6 billion won up for grabs, you wouldn’t believe it. And yet, it’s true. After the tragedy that was Red Light, Green Light where many people met a rather unfortunate fate, you realized it’d be in your best interest to find someone you can trust and form an alliance with them.

Unfortunately for you, your boyfriend, Thanos, happened to also be a part of the games and had been watching you from a distance since he spotted you in the first game. You had originally wanted to get away from him because he was nothing but toxic though now it seems Thanos was one step ahead of you. That, or you just had terrible luck and Thanos decided to come here on his own accord. 

You didn't have time to think about it though because he suddenly got up and left his little group behind to make his way straight to you. He didn't seem happy at all. Perhaps it was because the last conversation you two had was an argument that was left off on a bad note. 

“Where have you been? Were you avoiding me? That makes me really fucking mad, you know,” he says as he grabs your wrist so you can't just walk away from him. Not like there was anywhere to go now. You were stuck with him here. 

“I was just taking some time for myself,” you respond defensively. You really just wanted to get away from him which is why you were here in the first place. Your original plan was to win some money and then disappear so you'd never have to deal with Thanos and his crazy behavior again. It was suffocating to be near him.

“Time for yourself? Don't fucking lie to me,” he says as he brings you closer to him. Nothing about him was gentle. Not his touches, or his kisses, or anything. “Well, you've had your time. You're not leaving my side now,” he continues as he looks down at you with a glare. He wasn't leaving any room for you to defy him. In his eyes, you belonged to him. You were his property and that meant you couldn't go rogue and do what you want. 

“You don't get a say in that,” you say as you lean back slightly to try to create some distance between the two of you. He lets out a bitter laugh before grabbing the back of your head, entangling his fingers in your hair, and forcing you closer. “Yes, I do. In case you forgot, you're stuck in a death game with me. Do you really think anyone else will help you? Nobody else here gives a fuck about you. The moment they get the chance, they'll let a bullet go through your head,” he says as he looks down at you with a slightly crazed look. 

You'd like to make a counter point but he’s not exactly wrong. A lot of the people here didn't seem to be trustworthy. Not like Thanos was any better but he probably wouldn't purposely kill you if you didn't piss him off, right? As much as you didn't want to, you realized you didn't have much choice. Unless you want to make an enemy right after the first game, Thanos was your only hope of surviving the rest of the games.

“That's better. Just keep your pretty lips shut and let me do the talking,” Thanos spoke with a slight smirk. You didn't respond to that knowing that you'd likely make some sarcastic quip that would piss him off if you did. You didn't have a choice this time. You couldn't run away to another country. You had to give in just this once.

You'd soon come to regret that decision. 

Somehow, Thanos had only gotten worse. He was always right next to you, no matter what. Either his hand would be over your shoulder or he'd have a tight grip on your waist. When it was lights out, he'd force you to sleep in the same bed as him. He'd kiss you all the time too but it was always rough with teeth clashing against each other and his tongue shoved down your throat.

You didn't notice it got worse until it was far too late. 

The moment of realization was during the third game. The game was called ‘mingle’ and it was simple enough. A number would be called out and you'd have 30 seconds to form a group of that number before getting inside one of the fifty rooms. 

Everyone stood on a circular platform in the center of the room and, per usual, Thanos had his arm over your shoulder, keeping you close to him as he spoke to his other stupid friend. The platform began to spin slowly as a childish song played. When the platform came to a sudden stop and a number was called out you formed a group and ran into a room. 

It was all going fine as you planned strategic moves and managed to keep on surviving. At least, it was going well. Until the last round when the number 2 was called. 

Thanos had immediately taken your wrist and dragged you towards a room, leaving behind his idiot friend without a second thought. However, the room was quickly stolen by two other players. You thought Thanos would just go to the next room over but that was not what happened.

Instead he pushed open the door and immediately grabbed one of the guys by their hair. He didn't think twice before he forced him out of the room. The other guy made an attempt to help but Thanos slammed him against the wall, his hand going around his throat as he choked him. The look in his eyes was far more scary than you remember. You could hardly process what was happening before the guy was punched in the face and pushed out of the room. 

Thanos pulled you in just before the door closed and locked. The sound of gunshots rang out soon after as Thanos huffed in annoyance. He looked guilt free despite the fact he was very much responsible for the death of two people. Actually, now that you really thought about it, he had killed other people in the previous games too.

Fuck. You were beginning to regret your choice of becoming his ally. You'd have much rather found someone else who could protect you from him because he was clearly fucking crazy. Crazier than he used to be. You thought he was just a manipulative, toxic bastard. You didn't think he'd be truly capable of murder. 

“Fucking dickheads,” Thanos mumbles under his breath with annoyance before glancing at your face. The corner of his lips quirked up when he noticed your expression and he wandered in front of you. “What? Something wrong?” He spoke though he already knew exactly what you were thinking.

“You killed those people,” you said as you looked up at him with a combination of fear and disbelief. He laughed in response before reaching a hand up and grabbing your face. “For you, baby. I fucking killed them for you,” he said as he looked down at you with a smirk. He found your expression such a turn-on really. The idea you were afraid of him meant you'd submit to him and that's all he wanted.

“You're fucking crazy.. crazier than I thought,” you spoke as you tried to step back and create some distance between the two of you. In response, he slammed you against the wall and got very close to you. 

“You're only just realizing this? You don't realize when I snapped the ankle of that bastard who looked at you so he'd lose? You didn't realize when our ‘friend’ and I returned but he had a bleeding nose?” He spoke as he got into your face with a dangerous grin. Well, when he said it like that, it became abundantly clear he had been killing and hurting people left and right since day one and all for you. You just had been too caught up in his behavior towards you that you didn't notice how he acted with others.

“Mm. Fuck, I love that look on your face. You're so afraid. Good. Because you're going to learn that you're mine forever, yeah?” He spoke as he brought a hand to your throat and squeezed it tightly. He let out a laugh as he choked you like it was the funniest thing in the world before slamming his lips to yours in a rough kiss. 

It was then you realized that, no matter how hard you tried to escape, you were his now - you always have been - and you will never taste freedom on your tongue again.

[bnyf]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ#1 crush ♡

╭﹕୨୧﹒yandere male elf x female human reader ♡

┊ warnings : yandere content and themes, unhealthy behaviors, relationship and relationship dynamic, sexual content, noncon, kidnapping, size difference, strange dynamic.

╰﹕୨୧﹒authoress note : after receiving some unwanted but much needed criticism i've tried my hand at writing a little better and fixing errors. i apologize in advance if there's any errors or gaps in my writing, i also apologize for the messed up story that this is. ik some people don't like the way i write the reader but like??? idgaf sorry anyways other than that, i hope you guys enjoy, please read the warnings and proceed with caution <3 i would also like to say that this post is kinda inspired by a very popular yandere artist on here with a male elf oc

what a treacherous fate had befallen on a vitreous soul such as yourself.

it truly is unfortunate, you're so unlucky. how could your luck have run so low? to think, this everyday mundane routine would now be your nightmarish reality was stomach wrenching. you never did anything to deserve this, this was simply some sort of faulty by the gods, right? there's no way this is your horrible ending. no way.

you sobbed and yet... he hummed and chastised you by smacking your puffy clitorous.

it's always like this, it's been like this for...? a while now apparently. you've completely lost track of time. maybe a month or so if you're playing the guessing game.

well, if it wasn't obvious already, you've been taken hostage by an insane elven prince. probably the most insanely angelic, good-looking, prettiest and sick minded male you've ever met.

he really needs professional help. something that he can more than afford considering his house is almost made of gold, his herculean physique adored and draped only with the most expensive clothes, jewels, silks, soaps and scented creams and perfumes. his perfume, so extravagant, worth more than your vital organs all put together. that was the part you admired about elven people, they are so intelligent, so ahead of humans.

but to him? therapy is cheap and free! you're the first ever human he's laid eyes on and that's all he really needs. and really, you're the one to blame for his actions. it's all you. so you should take responsibility, right?

he's sought out humans before, trying to break the barrier between the two worlds and connect with them. he was damn near obsessed with coming into contact with the human realm and ruling over them like a god despite the fact that any sort of magic that threatens to break the barrier and connect the realms or offer passage through the two realms is absolutely forbidden. this is such a serious offense that if caught violating, can lead to public execution.

but your little caregiver did not! give one flying hoot at all, nor did the rules really even apply to royals as the royals participated in a lot of magical corruption and kept it all on the low.

so what a surprise! not really that he'd succeed in his conquest. not entirely since he'd only manage to bring one human to the elven realm, but now he knows for sure he's making great progress. and not only succeed in getting a nitty gritty palms on any human, but such a cute little human female like yourself.

humans are a lot more fragile, smaller, weaker, lesser intelligent beings, almost like a sub species from elves. so that's why you must be taken care of with so much extra love and attentiveness. all this was his reasoning for treating you like a minor being, enabling you and excuses for his weird kinks.

there was no way you'd ever dream of over powering him, not when a large veiny arm wrapped so tightly around your wrists, holding it behind your back, and the other with it's slender long digits effortlessly reaching your g spot.

it was 'bath time' or whatever, which called for a thorough inspection and cleanse. or just another excuse to use your body to his likings.

his tongue lap at your folds and clit, moaning in delight and relishing in all your juices spraying him. his voice muffled by your pussy, making wet sounds as he attempts to praise your gorgeous body: all of which sounds like incohesive unhinged, obsessive rambling of course.

if you ignore this scene and focus on other small things around you maybe you can, somewhat imagine yourself having a luxurious warm bath in the tub, with flowers and scented stuff in the water, scented candles creating a relaxing atmosphere, marvelous one-sided glass view... maybe not the one-sided glass view that's actually a little too scary to think about but yeah, you're having a nice little bath.

the most relaxing bath in the most prettiest and pearliest tiled bathroom you've ever been in.

your insides contorts though and you find yourself coming again undone on those perfectly manicured fingers of his, messing up his perfect face with your essence. your voice is loud and echoes throughout the bathroom, all the way into the bedroom and closet but never enough to each anyone's ears as he's casted multiple protective barrier spells to keep your presence unknown from other elven people. you've came like 5 times already and he won't let you rest, getting high off your pussy juices.

"poor baby, you look so tired, shhh don't worry~ mama will take care of everything, just relax and be good for me, okay? it'll all be over soon, my darling ^ mama will get you all cleaned up and dressed, right after this..." you wish you had the energy to welp out an 'ewwwwww da fuck?!' right about now but you were so weak and constantly sedated. you felt helpless as his bulbous tip hits your pussy, rubbing it back and forth to coat and lubricate himself with your juices. he leisurely teases, making your hole spasm and grasp around nothing, your body reacting in a lovely manner to his advances.

he licks his lips, only putting the tip in before quickly pulling back out. taking his time cause he wants to drive you insane like him. and luckily for him, his mind games always work so well.

his precum leaking and smearing you in the process as he rubs his whole length, measuring your pelvic area with his cock length and soon putting it in to see how far it'll actually go.

you almost blacked out. even though he prepped you well for this it still stings, he's just too big. and you? way too tight, squeezing him like you want every last drop of his seed, has him shivering and grunting in the process.

"fck- you're so tight, baby ngh~"

has him seeing stars and by the time he's balls deep in you and hitting the tip of your womb, you're a drooling and moaning mess. can't even control his obsessive thoughts from spilling out his mouth, he immediately gets to work on those hips too like a wild animal, only sparing a few seconds to sloppily kiss you and slap your thick behind.

it only takes a few minutes before he breaks his load inside you and shifts you into another position, manhandling you and roughing you up like a meat toilet, all for his own enjoyment and pleasure.

his long silky hair tickling your skin. when you think about it, he's so masculine with many feminine traits too, like the perfect balance actually and it is to be expected from an elf. he always wants to be in control, always wants to take care of you like a god watching over his creation. it sorta overlaps with him calling himself your mama but it makes sense in a way. he doesn't see himself as a woman in any sort of way, he just wants unrestricted authority over you.

your tears stream down your cheeks which he licks away and kisses, it only hurts your head trying to rationalize this or even understand it, your vision goes all blurry and for the next few rounds, your in and out of consciousness while being filled.

when you're awake again, you're draped in silk half naked and powdered up, you feel your caretakers strong arms wrapped around you, spooning you as rubs circles into your skin. he's also half naked with nothing but a cloth draped around himself. you both lay on a soft layered bed with many squishy pillows and blankies. fruits, steam veggies and grilled meat laid out on a silver tray for you to enjoy, though your stomach was filled with his cum.

[xo100]

i’ve been thinking about this for so longgg

okay so basically a fic where lando and you met at a grand prix while you were doing a tour of the paddock you accidentally meet and start talking and lando asks for your number, you and your whole family have always been huge f1 fans and so you hide it from them when you start dating him but eventually bring him to meet them and it’s a big surprise and everyone is so shocked that lando is your boyfriend

Under the radar - LN4

*:･ﾟ Summary/request: request by anon as you can read above this!

*:･ﾟ Word count: 1384

masterlist / community / request

౨ৎ

You were on a tour of the paddock, weaving through the bustle of teams prepping for race day, while you tried not to be overwhelmed by the atmosphere. Your family had always been Formula 1 fanatics, and being here was a dream come true. You were taking it all in—savoring every moment of walking through the garages and team areas that you'd only ever seen on TV.

Your family had been buzzing with excitement when you told them you won tickets for the paddock tour at the Grand Prix. They were envious, of course, but you had promised to snap plenty of pictures for them. None of them could imagine the turn your day would take.

As you followed the group through the McLaren garage, something—or rather, someone—caught your eye. Out of the corner of your vision, you saw a figure rushing toward you. You stepped to the side instinctively, trying to avoid a collision, but your foot snagged on something, and before you could blink, you were falling backward.

Except, you didn’t hit the ground.

A pair of strong hands caught your shoulders, and you gasped, steadying yourself as you regained your balance. When you looked up, your eyes met warm brown ones, sparkling with amusement and a hint of concern. Lando Norris.

“Are you okay?” he asked, a grin slowly tugging at his lips.

For a second, your brain went blank. Was this actually happening? Was Lando Norris—McLaren's star driver, F1 wonderkid, and easily one of the funniest guys on the grid—really holding onto you?

“I—yeah, sorry!” you blurted, trying to compose yourself, though your heart was beating too fast. “I wasn’t paying attention.”

“No worries, happens to the best of us,” he chuckled, still holding onto your arms. “But I have to say, it’s not every day someone literally falls for me.”

You blinked at him, then laughed, the tension breaking. “Does that line work often?”

“More than you'd think.” He winked, releasing his hold on you, though he seemed reluctant to do so.

The tour group was already moving on, but you hesitated, still standing in front of Lando, unsure of what to say or do next.

He tilted his head slightly, noticing your uncertainty. “Are you with the group?”

“Yeah, but…” You waved a hand dismissively. “It’s fine. They won’t miss me.”

Lando raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued by your response. “Hmm, playing hooky already?”

You shrugged, biting back a smile. “Maybe.”

“Well, if you’re gonna skip out, you might as well do it properly. Come on,” he said, jerking his head toward the pit wall. “Let me show you around.”

You blinked. “Really?”

“Why not? You already tripped into me—seems like fate, doesn’t it?” His grin was contagious, and despite the voice in your head screaming that this was all surreal, you found yourself walking beside him as he led you past the rows of McLaren engineers, their heads down in concentration, and into areas the tour definitely wasn’t going to cover.

-

The rest of the tour passed in a blur—Lando showed you parts of the garage up close, pointing out the intricacies of the car, telling you little jokes about his teammates, and talking about life on the circuit. It felt strangely…normal. The kind of normal where you could forget he was a famous Formula 1 driver and just see him as the charming, cheeky guy he was.

By the time you both circled back around to the paddock entrance, you’d learned that he loved golf, he was obsessed with video games, and he had a dry sense of humor that had you laughing far too easily.

You didn’t want the conversation to end, but you knew it had to eventually. “Thanks for, um, the tour,” you said, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt.

“No problem. You should come back, you know.” He paused, glancing over his shoulder toward his team, who were undoubtedly waiting for him to rejoin them. Then he turned back to you with that grin that made your stomach flip. “Give me your number.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “What?”

He chuckled softly, reaching into his pocket to pull out his phone. “Your number. So we can keep in touch.”

You blinked, processing what he was asking. Lando Norris wants your number? This was a conversation you were definitely not ready for. But despite the swarm of butterflies in your chest, you handed over your phone.

As you typed in your number, you couldn’t help but wonder how you were going to explain this to your family. Oh, nothing major, just met Lando Norris today…

-

You didn’t tell anyone. Not at first, at least.

After that day, Lando had texted you the very next evening, something casual about how he hoped you hadn’t tripped over anything else after you left. You laughed out loud, and your reply had been easy, comfortable. Before you knew it, the two of you were talking almost daily—texts that quickly evolved into phone calls and, eventually, meeting up at a few more races.

By the time you realized what was happening, you and Lando were dating. Quietly, but officially.

Your family had no idea.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to tell them—it was just…complicated. Your parents, your siblings—everyone in your family was obsessed with Formula 1. They knew every driver, every stat, every bit of news before it even hit the headlines. The idea of telling them you were dating an F1 driver—their favorite driver—felt impossible. You could already picture their reactions. The shouting, the questions, the disbelief.

So you kept it to yourself. For now, at least.

-

Months passed, and things with Lando grew deeper, more serious. He wasn’t just the famous driver anymore—he was Lando, the guy who made you laugh when you were stressed, who sent you goofy selfies from the hotel on race weekends, and who listened when you vented about your day. He was sweet, thoughtful, and maybe a little too good to be true.

Eventually, the time came when hiding him from your family wasn’t an option anymore. You had to tell them.

-

“I have a surprise for you guys,” you said nervously, standing in your living room with Lando by your side. You hadn’t told them yet—hadn’t explained who your ‘guest’ was.

Your mom and dad were sitting on the couch, your siblings sprawled around the living room, all eyes on you.

“What kind of surprise?” your sister asked suspiciously, glancing at Lando with a raised brow. He was wearing a baseball cap, pulled low enough that it wasn’t obvious who he was, but it wasn’t going to take long for them to figure it out.

You swallowed hard, glancing at Lando, who gave you a reassuring smile. He reached for your hand, squeezing it gently before stepping forward, taking off his cap and revealing his face.

For a split second, there was silence.

Then your dad nearly choked on his drink. “L-Lando Norris?” he stammered, eyes wide. Your siblings were frozen, mouths hanging open as they stared at him in disbelief.

“Surprise!” you said, giving them a nervous smile.

Lando, ever the charmer, grinned and waved. “Hi, nice to meet you all.”

Your family erupted into chaos. Your mom jumped up, asking a million questions at once, while your siblings started shouting over each other, and your dad was still trying to process what was happening.

“I can’t believe it,” your brother said, eyes wide as he stared at Lando. “Are you really dating my sister?”

Lando chuckled, sliding his arm around your waist. “Yep. Guess you’re stuck with me.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, relief flooding through you as you realized everything was going to be okay. Your family was shocked, yes—but in the best way possible.

And as you stood there, watching Lando joke with your siblings, you realized something else.

You weren’t just dating an F1 driver. You were dating Lando, and somehow, that was even better.

౨ৎ

*:･ﾟ Notes; thank you for reading, love’s! Hope you all enjoyed it! If there is something wrong or need to be edited, let me know! Also hey anon! If you read this, I hope that this is what you had in mind!

[a-lurking-fae]

Credits to @zealousgoldcollective for the ideaaa!!!

◇ SELKIE READER x BATFAM

◇ WORD COUNT ¡ — 2.0k

◇ SYNOPSIS ¡ — You were a halfling selkie - but due to the family's neglect, you have become one with the ocean.

Your mother was a beautiful selkie that had simply come to sunbathe — yet, how could she have ended up like this?

Bruce was travelling to Ireland to enjoy his vacation, walking on the beaches, and - there she was, in all her glory.

Your mother was humming a tune, sunbathing as she enjoyed the sea breeze, unaware of the man who had fallen in love with her at first sight. Her long locks flew gently, arranged by the wind lovingly, the sun shone on her skin — she was the epitome of beauty herself.

A beautiful stranger — she was truly. If Bruce had simply left, maybe your fate wouldn't have ended up like this. But he approached her, like a predator moves - his eyes never leaving his prey. She was a stranger, but she didn't have to be.

“A lovely afternoon to you, sir — ” by the gods, even her voice was beautiful. A tune that no words could ever hope to explain. The moment she had spoken, your mother had sealed her fate. “It truly is. Magnificence has finally gotten a meaning.”

The woman chuckled, “A poetic man — you are, dear sir. Might share some inspiration?” .

Her- she had become his beacon, his muse, his sun, the very being that he will forever tie himself into. Was this what his parents had told him? A love so strong — it can not ever be called love. So what was he feeling?

“I - uhh… it just comes naturally, sometimes it gets to you - it explains itself in words…” oh gosh, what the fuck was he talking about. But that didn't really matter, she was laughing. “Well, I hope I'll get to experience that too!”. Her laugh had started to cease, “Could I get your number?” Shit. Did that come out from his mouth?

“What's that?” She tilted her head in confusion, the humans that approached her always asked about this “number”. Bruce was also confused, but understood that some do not have the luxury of phones. But — he misunderstood why she didn't know what a number was. “Ah… never mind, will you still be here tomorrow?” Bruce asked her, well — he hopes she will.

“Hmm, I most likely will!” Well — wait, really?

From there, their interactions spiralled into something more, a spark - you could say. For your, mother this seemed like a revelation that not all humans are pure evil — but, Bruce? Well, his obsession worsened day-by-day. He craved for her touch, he needed her to be his. And finally, he soon figured out her secret.

She was a selkie — with further research, he figured out how to tie her to him. At the dead of night, he stole her pelt, hiding it away from her grasp.

She was devastated. She should have expected this. The tales of older selkie were all truths. How could she have been that naive? Bruce brought her to the manor. She met Richard Grayson, a son she never bore.

Your mother was crafty, she conceived you in the manor while she made her grand heist. She had figured out where her coat was. She was getting desperate, the ocean screamed at her to return. The rain's whispers — always so quiet - now have started to weeping noises. How could she? The ocean was her home, not here.

You may join her one day, among her own people, just not now, she swears she loves you. Amongst the sobs of the water around, your mother weeps at what might never be. Her baby, oh, her baby.

Her pup will be left to fend for herself until she can reach her. Your mother hopes she could whisk you away, but that human has trapped both of you here. And in a way, when she leaves — a part of her will be left behind in this cold — desolate structure.

‘Goodbye, my precious cub.’

She leaves, and you are left behind — wondering what it would be like to know the love of both your parents.

❀•°•═════ஓ๑♡๑ஓ═════•°•❀

Bruce had sent you abroad for senior high. Your siblings never really cared where you were. You had chosen Ireland — its infrastructure, history, and folklore screamed to you.

Everything was fascinating! You had read about selkies, which were kind creatures that sometimes assisted humans. You knew how most stories ended up with them getting taken advantage of. (You are unaware you were a result of the exact situation. How ironic.) You return to your Airbnb, opting to rest after classes.

At the dead of night, you trailed to the beach, you never realised you had walked all the way here! It was a good few kilometers from the bnb, how could you have not noticed?

You decided to enjoy the sea for a while, think about life? Sure, why not? A melodic tune enters your ear, words couldn't describe how beautiful it truly was. You follow the tune — entranced, you find a woman with long locks, singing away her heart. She spots you, and familiarity hits you — akin to a tidal wave, it sweeps you away. Leaving that feeling of being stranded on the shore. She runs to you, her sobs pulling your heart as well. And — “My pup, you have finally returned to my arms once more!” You weep along with her, you're not even sure that if she truly is your mother. Well, in the future you can deal with that problem!

The woman embraces you from midnight to the early rising of the sun. She tells you her story, and you are unsure. She senses the hesitation from you, after all, how could she not? You came from her womb, and she tells you your heritage. Your mother had started her own selkie family. You had half–siblings that enjoyed your presence. You weren't used to this. Your mother's husband, Liam, was surprisingly accepting of you. Watching you and your siblings from far away. His mother had a similar situation to his wife, Cahira — he was conceived by his mother after her escape a few millennia ago.

Liam protects you like his own pup. Wounds? Patched up. Need someone to talk to? A good listener is here. Boy problems? Need him to drown them? He loved you like a father. Liam saw you for you. Not because you were Cahira’s daughter, nor just a pity party — but because he genuinely thought of you as his pup.

Anytime you went swimming, they would all trail after you. You weren't a full selkie, and had a risk of dying since you weren't immortal like them. They showed you the wonders of the ocean. No matter how dark it ended up, they always knew how to find you. When graduation came around, they decided it was time to ask you —

“Join us, my child — ” Your mother randomly blurted out one day. “You can become a full selkie, and I truly wish to have you with us until the end of time.” She chose her words, knowing that you may decline their offer. “If I become a selkie, Bruce might hunt you down — again.” You rest your hand atop hers.

“I love you, all of them too. But — I do not want to risk your happiness over mine.” You hug her, burying your head unto her shoulders. This was nice, you imagine a place where it was only you and them. The cruel truth will always haunt you.

“You silly girl!” Liam hits your head in a chopping motion. “We would love to have you, and honestly? It is safer if you stay with us — away from that man.” Well —

“Not to mention the neglect you have been facing all these years, my dear — We love you so much, if he ever tries to break us up, I will go to the depths of the Otherworld and back to make sure you are with us.”

You don't notice the tears cascading down your face — it was only after Cahira had kissed them away. Did you finally realise.

Finally, after graduation, you had decided to become a full selkie.

❀•°•═════ஓ๑♡๑ஓ═════•°•❀

You returned to the manor, wishing to say goodbye to Alfred one last time. Your pelt was in your bag, although it would have been safer with your parents, an emergency might arise and you would need it.

Your room had been the same as before, the posters during junior high were still stuck up the walls. Alfred had told you to go downstairs since you would all eat together. You honestly had a bad feeling about this —

Laughter could be heard echoing against the manor walls, inside jokes ran rampant between them — you wished to return to your room. Your paradise in hell. Entering the dining room, you could feel the stares of all your siblings upon your figure. They pale in comparison to the little gremlins back home. (You didn't realise you had stopped calling the manor your home, have you?)

Silence was suffocating, and Bruce felt the awkwardness dawning on them. “So, how was Ireland (name)?” He shuffled with his collar, he came from another one of his charity events, and he was too tired to change. “It was lovely, the country is interesting.” You wanted to taunt him, let him know you were going somewhere kinder, you knew better than that.

The silence dragged on until dinner ended, it was the polar opposite with the Selkies. You truly missed them.Your days went on without a hitch, not much has truly changed. It was only a few days until you'd return to Ireland.

“You'll be staying in Gotham for college.” No! No fucking way! Did he seriously just say that shit? “I already made friends there, it's hard adjusting to another environment again and — ” Bruce sighs, he hadn't expected this, should he just let you be? “I want to spend time with, I — I regret all the things I haven't done with you. I want to become a father to you, I hope you'll give me that chance.”

You stormed out of his office, packing your bags in a haste, preparing your pelt carefully. For some reason, your siblings in the manor had all tried to spend time with you today. Richard attempted to get you to go with him to this restaurant that opened a few blocks away — you opted to run instead. Damian had dragged you to paint with him, he surprisingly didn't attack you during this process. Cassandra and Stephanie wanted to watch a movie with you, while Babs and Jason bought you ice cream. Duke joined you and Alfred in baking. Your plans I'm running away kept getting ruined. They used to patrol until dawn!

You felt a sense of urgency to return to the sea. You made up you mind and ran with your stuff, your flight had been booked, and a friend picking you up secretly. You searched your room for the hidden pelt — wait, where the fuck was it? Shit. Shit. Shit! You turned your room upside down and — nononono! You can't delay right now! “Are you looking for something, (name)?” It was Bruce, he had to have it. “I am, and I know you have it.” You'd glared at him.

“Have what exactly?” He was a bitch alright. “My pelt, Mr. Wayne.” Bruce was taken back by your cold tone. One he always used on you. “You will stay here and that is final.” He goes outside as he locks your door, chains clanking at his every move. You never knew that there were chains! “You will not leave me, no. This is your home, my dear. Dad is sorry.” Bruce walks away from your screams, he will burn your pelt soon. Until he is sure that it will not give you any harm.

You attempt to break the windows, but all the windows in the manor have been reinforced by Dick and Jason. A feeling of dread washes over you, as your selkie family senses something has gone awry.

•.:°❀×═════════×❀°:.•

Damn that was long lol —

[desireangel]

Bad Things | Aemond Targaryen

Summary: Aemond is plagued with doubts and seeks refuge in the one place where he is at peace with himself; between his beloved wife's legs.

Pairing: Aemond x fem!reader

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: MDNI, 18+ only!! this is so in Aemond's thoughts, self doubt, lack of remorse, smut, oral (f receiving), talk of sex, slight breeding kink, Aemond is lost in his head and obsessed with eating his wife out, Aemond may be prince regent of Westeros but he is king of eating pussy, unedited, hmm kinda just porn really - let me know to add anything if need be!

Author's Note: Came home drunk (typos??? potentially. unnecessary droning on??? potentially.) after a couple cocktails and had the urge to erm write. About oral sex specifically, of course. Anywayssss, enjoy (I hope!) - xoxo kisses!!! <3

Masterlist!

Sometimes Aemond let his mind wander to all that could have been and all that could come to be had he only made his decisions differently. He seldom felt regret - never felt as if he would change the things that have led him towards the path of greatness he was on. But what ifs and the memory of failures are as stubborn as a newborn plague and Aemond was just as vulnerable to illness as those whom he revered and those whom he detested. 

It was warm under the light of the setting sun, a kiss on his skin as Aemond rested against the balcony at the window and watched over what he longed to have for himself. If things had been different, at any time and any place, where would he be now?

The thought of living his life without his injury had come to sicken him but it lingered at the back of his mind. Had certain moments taken a different turn, would he still feel the need to drive people to respect him through fear and prove himself worthy at every chance he could find? Aemond swallowed at the thought. And he stood there, looking to the skies as if the clouds could free him from the suffocation of the feelings that had haunted him since the night he lost his eye. 

Feelings of failure, feelings of defeat, feelings of fear and feelings of humiliation. 

Even after meeting you, and understanding that loving you meant different things - things he wasn’t familiar with, things he wasn’t sure he was capable of becoming familiar with - the lingering thought of what if was all consuming.

Aemond could hear you coming seconds before you were beside him. He was thankful you stood by his side, silently and wordlessly as your eyes dragged across his face, analysing what you could of his thoughts from his perfected emotionless expression. Quiet moments like this, where Aemond got lost in his mind grew fewer at each move he made within this war.

But here you both were, silently in each other’s company. Aemond was a passionate lover. But he was also at times a cold and imperfect partner. And some of those times where he retreated into himself, although he had rarely lost control of himself in front of you, left him vexed at your presence.  

Because to Aemond, you were perfect. Frustrating at times but that was often the fault of his own lack of patience and tolerance. You were, at the end of the day, too perfect. He saw your compassion, your empathy, your kindness. And he saw your strength, your wit, your fearsome loyalty.

And here Aemond was, unable to even regret many of the times he acted without any of those perfect things. After the fate that Lucerys had met, Aemond found he could not find it in himself to feel remorse for much else. 

You let your fingers graze along the leather sleeve on his arm, your light touch burning into his skin through the fabric. He closed his eye and kept it closed for minutes of silence that felt like hours before he spoke lowly.

“I have done bad things.”

You sucked in a breath. “Would you be here today if you had not done those things?”

“No, you do not understand me. I cannot bring myself to care for some of the vile things that I have done. That I have caused. I should care, should I not?” 

Releasing a long sigh, you shifted on your feet. Aemond knew that you were different to him. You didn’t agree with many of his actions and decisions but you knew there was nothing you could do except to be there when he needed you. It had taken time to realise you couldn’t change the way he thought, the way he felt, the way he reacted to things - you weren’t sure if you truly, deeply wanted to take on that burden. 

As Aemond grew more honest with you, you had come to realise that when it came down to it he was not a completely good man. But he was good to you and while Aemond saw your strength, you knew you were weak when it came to him. Loyalty and love for your husband burned painfully in your chest no matter his imperfections and you never bothered to try to justify it. 

“Perhaps if I had acted differently, somewhere,” Aemond’s words were rushed, a switch from his normally slow drawl. He would curse himself tomorrow for his moment of weakness but he couldn’t ignore the pit in his stomach. “Then I would not be the way that I am now.”

You stared at him for a moment. His expression was of ice and had you not known him the way that you do, then you would never have noticed the confliction in his eyes. “There is no use-”

“I know there is no use in thinking about what may have been, I know,” Aemond spat. 

“Alright,” you paused. “But you will never know what could have changed. You made your decisions, you were the author of your own fate, Aemond. ‘Tis the way things go - we must face it. What difference would it make if things could have been different? You cannot undo what you have already done.”

Aemond’s jaw ticked and he moved so that his arm hung at your waist. You briefly glanced back inside at the servant who prepared your nightly cup of tea at your bedside. Aemond seldom made a show of your relationship when you weren’t entirely alone. Nevertheless, you didn’t let your mind linger on that fact. 

He gazed down at you, his ocean-strong eye never failing to make your breath hitch and goosebumps to rise on your skin. You were relieved that he seemed to agree with your words. Aemond’s shoulders had lost much of the tension they held and the start of the sweet smile that was shared only with you played on his lips. 

He had to try hard to believe what you had told him. Because here you were, no matter what he did and no matter his lack of conviction, at his side and wrapped around his finger. You were the calming breeze that cooled his heat, you were the shade that gave him relief from the scorching sun and you were the water that flushed the burn from his skin. Aemond was not one to be an emotional man but he knew that he had love for you and your endless, boundless support. And he dreamed of how he would share with you the world that will one day be at his feet. 

“I shall share your bed tonight, my love.” Aemond’s words were as they always have been; smooth with honey but laced with venomous promises. You bit back a smile as he pulled you inside, addicted to whatever venom dripped from his words, from his eye, from him.  “And that shall serve as all the reminder that I need to be sure I have not been so misguided that I have lost my way to no return.” 

When he pressed his nose into the crook of your neck, dragging it along your soft skin, he inhaled deeply. Aemond thought for a moment of how perfect it would be if he could bottle your scent and keep it with him forever. A reminder of the woman for whom he wished he could become a good, honest man. 

Your body felt so familiar to him that it made his mind turn quiet and Aemond could only think of having you closer, closer, closer. And it was never close enough, no matter how hard he squeezed at the flesh of your hips to pull you in, no matter how your breath tickled his skin and  how your eyelashes fluttered against his hair as he dragged his lips over your shoulder and along the side of your neck. 

If there were no roof atop your heads, you would have thought that it rained flames onto the both of you and to relieve the burn of it, you melted into Aemond, pressing yourself further into him and squirming for more as he grabbed at your nightclothes to toss them to the floor. 

You tugged hopelessly at the buckles on his tunic, whining. “Get it off, Aemond.”

Aemond didn’t need to be told a second time because hardly a moment later he was as naked as you were, pushing you until the back of your legs hit the edge of your bed and you fell onto it gently. A strained groan fell from his lips as he let you pull him down with you, holding his face in your hands as he held himself above you with an arm beside your head. You gently removed the leather that covered his glimmering sapphire, sighing contently. 

Admiring Aemond as he was, bare and honest and beautiful had become your favourite way to see him. Without the need to hide any part of himself from you. 

Smirking, he let his lips graze yours softly. It was a stark contrast to the way Aemond’s other hand was roughly grabbing at whatever flesh he could hold, squeezing you and sending shockwaves straight through to your core. 

You could barely get the words out of you. “Kiss me–Gods, kiss me.”

And he did kiss you, his lips desperately clashing against yours with a new kind of vigour. Aemond rarely kissed you with such force, such rage and such raw, unfettered need. But as his teeth knocked against yours, catching your lip in between and drawing blood, he entertained the thought that maybe he did regret something. All of the kisses he never had the chance to give you. 

The air between you was charged with something sharp and electric, a primal energy that clouded your head and had you gasping Aemond’s name at the way he brushed his knuckle against your core. Normally, he would have taken his time with you. But despite the fact that you had the entire night ahead of you, Aemond was rushed and impatient. 

“Always so ready for me,” he murmured, taking in a sharp breath as his fingers rubbed through your slick folds, pulling a soft whine from you. Aemond’s cock twitched at the perfect sound and he ground his hips against the plush of your thigh. He dragged the pads of his fingers teasingly up from the slit of your hole to the hood of your clit, drawing teasing circles so softly you could have been convinced his touch was a figment of your fantasies. 

“Aemond, please-”

He shushed you softly. “Patience, my sweet.”

Aemonds lips, wet on your jaw, travelled down the expanse of your neck and over your collarbones. He nibbled at you, amused at the way you arched and squirmed, replacing his fingers with his cock and sliding it against your clit. When his lips met your nipple he sucked harshly with a flick of his tongue, giving your right breast hardly enough attention before turning to the other. 

It sent shivers down your spine and you were sure Aemond felt you shudder against him when his lips travelled lower, leaving a wet trail down your skin until he was finally just below your naval. Aemond turned his head, his teeth pinching the flesh of your thigh harshly, just above where your thigh curved into your pelvis. You squealed. 

“Hm,” He chuckled darkly, smiling up at you and shaking his head with a deep tsk when your legs instinctively moved to shut. His hands groped at your thighs and pushed them up so that you were folded yet entirely spread in front of him. “I will fuck you with my tongue first. And my fingers. Then I will fuck you with my cock and fill you with my seed, only after I have made you quiver and shake from the pleasure of my mouth on your perfect cunt.”

Aemond’s eye dropped to your sopping cunt and his words coiled in his throat, coming out as a muffled moan. You gasped as he lewdly spat, his head falling downwards in an instant, wave after wave of pleasure stealing the oxygen from your lungs as he sucked on your pussy, tongue weaving across your clit and back down. 

All of the loud doubts that plagued his mind turned into whispers of incoherence the moment his mouth met the velvety skin of your womanhood, Aemond’s favourite place to lose himself when his thoughts became unbearable. The tangy, sweet taste of your arousal pulled a deep growl from his chest and when your hips jerked against his face, he wrapped a strong arm over your hips to hold you in place. 

As Aemond’s tongue dipped into you, his lips latched on the expanse of your cunt, you let out a cry, your hand falling to his hair and pulling hard. Your body was hot with desire, thighs squeezing your husband’s head as he greedily feasted on the most intimate parts of you. He pulled away for one quick second to catch his breath before burying himself in you once again, the obscene smacking sounds of how he relentlessly sucked and lapped at your slit. 

For such vulgar noises, they had become increasingly beautiful. 

“I dream of staying here forever,” Aemond’s words were muffled, difficult to hear over your own whimpers and the movement of his lips on your folds had you bucking to follow his mouth. He hid his grin in your wetness. “I can do no wrong with the taste of you on my tongue.”

The pleasure that Aemond always submerged you was almost becoming overwhelming and you lost the ability to form sentences, muttering and mumbling in response. He could decipher his name, falling for your flushed lips so many times, and his eye flickered up to watch how your body climbed to the highest point of satisfaction where such a sinful act became heavenly. 

You were always beautiful, Aemond thought. But you were at your most beautiful when you came undone for him, lost in the throes of bliss and grasping at him as if you could not live for another second without his touch. He carried you through your orgasm, unrelenting as he greedily devoured every part of your pussy, looking up at you with his darkened eye and shining sapphire, strands of his hair that had come loose sticking to the wetness on his jaw. Aemond relished in the strangled, melodic sounds that you made for him. 

When you jerked away from him with a squeal, so sensitive when the tip of his tongue flicked against your clit that your hips bucked suddenly, Aemond pulled away while chuckling and placing featherlight kisses along your shaking thighs. He watched how your cunt continued to clench around nothing as you came down from your orgasm, the messy mixture of his spit and your arousal glistening under the light from the lamps. 

You let yourself relax into the bedsheets and moved to close your legs, tugging Aemond to meet you for a kiss and giggling when he stopped to quickly wipe your slick from his face. But before your knees could come together, he caught them, settling himself in between and you could feel the steady heat from his hardened cock grazing across the outside of your slit. 

“I think my pretty wife believes she is going to have a restful night,” Aemond teased against your lips, sliding a hand down between your bodies and spreading your folds once again to make way for his fingers. You shuddered against him with a mewl. “You are mistaken, my love, if you believe I will not have you full of my seed by the time I am done making love to you. I am a man of my word, am I not?”

[invincibledc]

𝑻𝑹𝒀 𝑨𝑮𝑨𝑰𝑵!

INTERACTIVE FANFIC BASED ON DARK PICTURES SUCH AS UNTIL DAWN.

𝒀𝑨𝑵𝑫𝑬𝑹𝑬!𝑩𝑨𝑻𝑭𝑨𝑴𝑰𝑳𝒀 𝑿 𝑹𝑬𝑨𝑫𝑬𝑹

wanna die? maybe next time don’t make dumb mistakes reader, you’ll live once again. Or maybe not.

warning: you will have to choose your fate. If you fail to choose, you die. This is the prologue. This is an interactive story.

You stared at the “you died (again)” at your face. You couldn’t do it, you couldn’t do this. You’ve died, over, over, and over again.

All cause you rejected this family.

The first time it happened, you denied Bruce’s invitation to dinner. Turns out the next time you ate a meal he gave you, you were poisoned, choking on your food til you fell to the floor.

The second time it happened, you ignored Dick, walking pass him when you didn’t notice his blue eyes darken. You had turned your back against him, and he hates traitors as he grabbed you from behind and snapped your neck.

The third time, Jason had shot you in the head. You had forgotten what you did, but you knew he wasn’t sane. Always stalking you, stealing your underwear. It was driving you nuts when you found him sniffing your underwear as his green eyes stared you down. You left the manor and never returned, coming home one night to see him in his red hood attire and a gun pointed to your face. You were then shot.

The lastly, the fourth time you died. An all grown up boy, Damian Al Ghul-Wayne has choked you in your sleep as you tried to pry him off you. He holds many grudges, but you have forgotten one grudge he held most. You couldn’t hear him as your ears rang loud, trying to hit him as he moves his head swiftly and tighten his grip. Your arms flailing as you finally fall limp.

And now here you are at the start. red flashes again your face, seeing as it says the same damn thing it always said after the second death. You laughed manically, clutching your head as you couldn’t believe this.

I mean can you believe this?!

All cause you meet Bruce, met his family, bonded with the others til you realized that they started to fall obsessive over you.

Now you’re back here as your hand lifted over the two buttons on the screen.

What shall you do now… reader?

beware of the answers, whoever shall win, will see the fall of the others. Choose wisely, and you shall see your fated demise.

[chaostudee]

how you get the girl, lando norris.

summary : lando norris reveals in a interview that his celebrity crush is y/n. the majority of the grid teases him over his little crush but little do they know it is mutual. faceclaim : hailee steinfeld warnings : language?? a/n : aaaaagh 2nd win for lando im so happy :) hopefully ferrari can get on the podium in monza. also inspired by how you get the girl by taylor swift.

y/nusername felt cute. might delete later.

liked by zendaya, florencepugh, landonorris and 1,719,910 others.

zendaya 🔥🔥

florencepugh damnnn girl

user01 goddamn

user11528 wowwww

sabrinacarpenter obsessed with u always

username_90 DONT DELETE GIRL PLEASE

user22 how tf is she single?!?!

y/nfan LITERALLY LIKE WHAT

user92 pick me choose me love me

mclaren new video out now !!

liked by landonorris, zakbrown, f1fan and 479,929 others.

user828 OMG LOVE U MCLAREN

user01 they know what we want hehe

f1fan oh yesssss

username982 oh we are so backkkk

user_72 landoscar !!!!!

y/nusername

》 user929 omlll she's so pretty wtfff

》 user00 so gorgeouss ughhh

》 y/nlover i cant wait for future projects hehe

》 y/nusername something coming soon 🤫

》 username_89 yesss y/n active era

f1updates lando norris reveals that his celebrity crush is y/n y/ln !!!

liked by f1fan, f1lover, justaninchident and 129,920 others.

user01 stan oscar for calling him out hehe

f1fan UM WHAT

user472 he's so real for that acc

f1lover Y/N NEEDS TO SEE THIS PLSSS

justaninchident brb changing my name to y/n real quick

user555 so not normal about this

y/nusername SPIDERMAN INTO THE SPIDERVERSE OUT JUNE 2ND !!!!

liked by florencepugh, tomholland2013, zendaya and 1,293,920 others.

florencepugh yayyyy i cant waittt

zendaya eeeek so excited

tomholland2013 won't be better than homecoming.....but i have fate

user829 OMG OMG

user739 Y/N AS GWEN OH YES

username_777 i know where i will be june 2nd

lando.jpg

liked by alexalbon , oscarpiastri, georgerussell and 282,710 others.

alexalbon bros a photographer now

landonorris just a hobby :)

user829 ugh his style lately 😩😩

user119 obsessed with him alwaysss

username_425 bros doing sidequests now

f1fan aagh we need more content like this plsss

f1lover im love his jewellery smmmm

oscarpiastri this week was a good one 😜

liked by landonorris, y/nusername, georgerussell and 618,910 others.

landonorris :)

user289 your honour i love them !!!

user_19 ughhh they are so cuteeee

justanichident pookies

f1fan mclaren podiums are my favs :)

f1lover but carlando podiums 😚

y/nusername premiere in la last night

liked by landonorris, florencepugh, zendaya and 917,291 others.

landonorris stunning

y/nusername tyyyyy

user82 oh this look im obsessedddd

f1fan not lando commenting plss he wants her so baddd

user910 she's so hot omg

florencepugh my bsf is so gorgeee

zendaya you ateee so baddd

jimmyfallon interview with y/n y/n out now !!

liked by landonorris, f1fan, justaninchident and 628,019 others.

user8292 YES THIS IS THE CONTENT WE WANT

user00 okay truthfully i dont like jimmy fallon all that much but he ate with this one u fear

f1fan lando in the likes 🙈

f1lover heheheheheheehhe

username_29 girl was trying to keep it cool but she was blushing so badddd

y/nusername miami gp 🏎🏁 @ mclaren

liked by landonorris, mclaren, oscarpiastri and 828,001 others.

mclaren amazing having you in the garage today !!!

user929 EXCUSE ME WHAT

f1fan convinced lando invited her

user82 oh defo

user728 giggling

username_299 oh she's a menance for this

f1lover wait....are we going to get a lando and y/n pic???

justaninchident whos cares about the gp now I ONLY CARE ABOUT Y/N AND LANDO CONTENT

y/nusername finally met my celeb crush 🤭

》 user899 I LOVE HER FOR THIS

》 f1fan SCREAMING

》 user11 LANDO HAS TO SEE THIS PLS I BEG

》 f1lover i just know that lando is dying rn

》 user0_811 no2 this is why i love y/n

》 georgerussell can confirm that lando did infact scream when he saw this.

landonorris first win feels.

liked by y/nusername, oscarpiastri, charlesleclerc and 2,893,467 others.

y/nusername so happy for you !!!

landonorris thanksssss

oscarpiastri well deserved mate 🫶

georgerussell congrats !!

user929 EEK SO PROUD

user191 wdym we got y/n and landos first win today......best day everrrr !!!

username_19 i sobbed when he crossed the finished line

f1fan he's come so far 😭😭

justaninchident wdymmm lando just got his first win wtfff

user000 im convinced y/n was his lucky charm

username_10 this 🙌🙌

landonorris guess it's not a secret anymore 😏

liked by y/nusername, georgerussell, charlesleclerc and 2,729,920 others.

user72 help the emoji he's so unserious

user11 ughh i love them sm all ready

georgerussell reminder to never doubt you again

charlesleclerc i like to think that i had a part in this

y/nusername <3

username829 awwwww

justaninchident im sobbing acc

f1fan speechless

f1lover829 AS A MARVEL AND F1 FAN IM NOT OKAY

user243 screaming crying throwing up

y/nusername i love u sm baby

landonorris love u more angel

taglist ⭑.ᐟ

@mxryxmfooty

@lottalove4evelyn

@heavy-vettel

@llando4norris

@hadidsworld

[metaforikal]

yan! flame reaver

gn reader.

i was talking to my friend about how cool flame reaver is and she was like hey so do you think flame reaver would be a yandere and my antenna goes boinggg...

(written on my phone because i am way too lazy to sit up and open my laptop. so the layout isn't as my usual one :c)

flame reaver is 100% a yandere if we're talking about 3.1 flamere wink wink. he wasn't really a yandere at first, obsessive, yes but not too possessive. but after losing you in every single time line he's in, he had grown to be way too attached. too scared to let you go because everytime he laid his eyes somewhere else, you perish.

phainon's shouting was nothing but a distant noise as flame reaver whisked you away, his grip unyielding, all consuming. a look of terror painted phainon's face, the one he had on when he saw aedes elysiae reduced to nothing but smouldering ashes by the hands of the nameless swordsman. but this time however, it was even more terrifying to the nameless hero.

because he saw it.

the look on your face.

the way your breath hitched.

the way something unspoken flickered in your eyes when you met flame reaver's scorching gaze. it was nothing sort of fear, it was awe.

and he is watching you slip away from his grasp.

to flame reaver, nothing mattered to him except for having you in his arms again. even it means having to steal you away from every single phainon there areーeven from fate itself. he would carve through every single time line amphoreus got to offer, steal you from every version of the nameless hero that staked their claim on you. defying destiny had always been his forte, and for you, he would rewrite fate with blood and flame if needed be.

because you were his, always had been that way.

[bvidzsoo]

A world in your colours

𐀔 Cherry Blossom, March Event 𐀔

Author: bvidzsoo

Pairing: Daycare teacher!Kang Yeosang x Florist!reader

𐀔 Warning: none 𐀔 Word count: 6.2k 𐀔 Rating: sfw 𐀔 Genre: fluff, soulmates: you see all the colours for the first time when you meet your soulmate, strangers to lovers, fated together 𐀔 Summary: A world through the faint hues of your soulmate's eye colour isn't the most colourful life to live. Approaching twenty-five and still being unable to see all the colours the world has to offer has you worried that you'll never meet your soulmate. Doubts and questions riddle your mind day and night, but at least you have the one thing that makes you happy no matter what, your little flowers. You can't actually see their colours, but you can imagine their vibrancy. And then, one day when you're making a bouquet for a lovely man, your whole world gets covered in an overwhelming amount of colour, rendering you stunned.

A/N: Here it is, our lovely Yeosang's drabble. I love this guy and I love this little fluffy story, man, I was smiling so widely while writing these two, they are so endearing. Despite writing a florist!au...I cannot take care of my plants for the life of me, even though I really love them...especially pretty little flowers, but oh, well, I'll have to get better at taking care of them once I move out...I hope you enjoy this drabble and let me know what you thought of it, your feedback is much appreciated! Enjoy! ^^ divider @cromernet

𐀔 Join the taglist here! 𐀔

Taglist: @thecarnivaloflies @faeriehwa @mingiatz @kang-ulzzang @xylatox

@mintchocolatto @mintsugarr93 @solaris-amethyst @foxinnie8 @marvolos

@licityvibes @amoryeonjun @nkryuki @matchahintonagar @k1ttym0nkey

@justconniez @ateezswonderland @lemonkait00 @youcanstayalways @cristy-101

@my-atiny-kookie-rkive @wooyouz @cosmicrecs

            Colour, as defined by everyone’s best friend, Wikipedia, is the visual perception based on the electromagnetic spectrum. Although colour is not a fundamental attribute of matter itself, the way we perceive it is intricately tied to how an object absorbs, reflects, and emits light, as well as the subtle play of interference within those light waves. That was another sentence you had long ago read on the internet, and it stuck with you. Your peers have always considered you a bit strange for your obsession with colours, but then again, in a world that was painted mostly grey with hues of brown, amber, and copper, you couldn’t help but obsess over it. It wasn’t by choice that you couldn’t see all colours…if it were up to you, you’d coat your whole life in nothing but a mess of bright and light pastels. You sighed at the reoccurring thought as you walked over to another plastic vase to grab a purple Lily to add to the bouquet. You double-checked the label before grabbing it, though; you didn’t need another embarrassing incident today.

The sole reason as to why you couldn’t see colours yet was because you hadn’t met your soulmate yet. In a way, it was something you were glad for because you’d know for sure who your soulmate was. You’ve read stories written by famous novelists who fantasized about a world where your soulmate's first words directed at you would be inked into your skin, and you wondered whether that felt as magical as the author made it seem. What if five different people said the same exact words to you that were on your wrist? What then? How would you decide which was your soulmate? You didn’t like thinking about that, though, content with the reality of your world. Sure, it was a bit depressing and quite literally grey, but it also brought a sense of excitement and anticipation with it. Whenever you allowed yourself to fantasize about the moment when you’d meet your soulmate, your cheeks would burn hot, and your heart would race. You’d close your eyes and try to imagine all the vibrant colours that suddenly coloured your surroundings.

You figured it would feel overwhelming at first, making you sentimental or sending you into a panicked sobbing. You thought it would blind you and make you feel nauseous as all the colours would be suddenly as vivid as an explosion in the distance that was now right under your nose. You thought you wouldn’t know what to do with yourself anymore, that you’d need a second to piece your thoughts back together, to make sense of the situation, to tell yourself that everything was okay. That’s how you imagined you’d react, but you were always a person full of surprises, even to yourself. Besides, diving too deep into this topic always leaves you with a sour aftertaste. You were twenty-five, and your world was still gloomy, devoid of the warmth and brightness everyone around you gushed about. It wasn’t unusual to be still single by twenty-five, but most people have found their soulmates back in high school. Your parents, for example, were even luckier than that and met in middle school; their worlds suddenly filled with all colours. You were jealous of them, but you also admired them profoundly.

Their love was deep and unlike anything you’d seen before. Their respect for each other went even deeper than their love, kindness and devotion, just a few sentiments that could be added to their plate when cherishing one another. You wished for a gentle love like theirs, for quiet moments where no words had to be uttered to be understood, for genuine kindness and laughter that filled the longing in your chest. You smiled at your customer as you tied her bouquet together, getting an excited grin back in return.

“Oh, this is gorgeous!” She exclaimed as you grabbed a little butterfly sticker, searching for the perfect leaf to press onto, “My little one will love this!”

You were happy that the mother was excited; seeing your clients excited and happy over the flowers you loved so much always filled your chest with warmth. You imagined being with your soulmate felt like that, too. You handed the bouquet over to the woman once you were done with it, accepting her card when she said she had no cash.

“I’ve never seen anyone combine these colours so beautifully before,” The woman mused to herself as her eyes took in the plethora of flowers, a mixture of white, yellow, pink and even a little bit of purple in there, “You’ve got an artistic eye for it.”

You felt proud at the praise as you handed the card back, grinning at the lady as you bowed your head in gratitude, “That’s a lovely compliment, thank you so much!”

You didn’t have the heart to tell the lady that you had no idea what the flowers looked like in colour, whether the pink bow you’d tied to keep the bouquet together matched with the flowers you had chosen. The lady left soon after as she was in a rush, and you sighed, looking around the flower shop. You could tell the walls were a lighter orange, the shades a dark brown and probably your soulmate’s exact eye colour since the colour was so rich in hue. You’ve always wondered if the other colours were just as beautiful as the ones you could lightly see from time to time—or more pronounced if they were the same colour as your soulmate’s eyes—and your conclusion had always been that, yes, no matter what nuance or hue, all of it was just as gorgeous.

You thought of colours as you thought of flowers, special and unique in their ways, distinguishable and rather easy to remember once you learned their properties. Flowers have been your escape since a young age when your preschool teacher tasked you with growing little beans, encouraging you to name them and speak to them daily. After that, you had asked your parents whether you could try and cultivate your little garden in your room, and once they’ve given you the go, you had never turned back. The flower shop that you were working at wasn’t yours just yet, but its owner—a lovely middle-aged woman—was considering passing it on to you once she had grown old and tired of her business. You’d gladly take over it as you had no big plans for your future. You were content living in the place you had been born, surrounded by friends and family. You realised you were luckier than most that you could live a comfortable and fulfilled life, and that’s why you always made sure to give back to your community, even if it was something little.

You were just about to walk over to the vase with sunflowers when the doorbell chimed, signalling a new customer. You plastered a small smile to your lips and straightened your back, welcoming the man who had decided to walk inside your store, “Hello, how may I help you?”

“Hi, uhm, it’s my mother’s birthday today.” The man spoke, surprising you with his deep voice. His features were soft and relaxed; it was an unexpected juxtaposition, “Her favourite flowers are Magnolias; do you have any of that?”

You nodded your head, walking over to the vase placed right by the entrance. They were fresh as they had come in just today, so they were gorgeous as they were in bloom, “Silk Magnolias are mostly used for bridal bouquets, but I can make you a simpler one if you want me to.”

“I’d love that, please.” The man said as you two looked at each other, and for some unexplainable reason, your heart skipped a beat. You averted your eyes shily and crouched down to grab three Magnolias, your long skirt brushing past your ankles.

“They go well with Gardenias; would you like me to add some of those too?” You stood back up, realising that since the bouquet would be all white, you could add a deep red coloured ribbon to it, or perhaps even a soft pink one. The challenge, however, would be to find the right nuances since your coworker messed up some of the colours after her shift. You’d be embarrassed to ask the man for a little guidance, and that would be also you assuming that he had found his soulmate already, which would be a bit rude as you didn’t want to make him feel uncomfortable. Due to you being unable to see all colours, everything inside the store was labelled with little post-it notes, bold letters stating the colour of the flowers. With that also came the shelf behind the front counter always being organised after a system that you had already memorised, no need to read the labels anymore. All ribbons and coloured foils were placed in their designated spot so that you’d know which one was which colour, but your coworker had mixed up the black and blue ones, resulting in you embarrassing yourself not even half an hour ago when a customer asked for blue ribbons and you had given them black ones. You quickly fixed your mistake, and the man wasn’t even upset, but your cheeks still burned with shame as now the man knew you still hadn’t met your destined partner.

“Uh, if you think it’ll be pretty, sure.” The man said, walking to the counter as you went behind it to organise the bouquet for him, “May I ask…what colour it’ll be?”

You froze for a second before you hummed, going over to the Gardenias to grab two of them, “White, if that’s alright.”

The man nodded eagerly, letting his green briefcase rest on the counter where it didn’t invade your space, “That’ll be perfect, my mother loves the colour white.”

You smiled as you glanced up at the man, and somehow it seemed as if the sunrays shining through the window were brighter, creating a white haze around him. He looked really pretty with his curly hair falling over his forehead, curling around his cheekbones, and you noted its copper hue with slight admiration. Afraid you were starting to stare, you lowered your eyes and started working on the man’s bouquet. You first made sure all the flowers were fresh and in perfect shape, undamaged by transport, and then cut into the ends a bit. Then you held the Magnolias together, arranging the Gardenias in between and adding a few dark green weeds for a better aesthetic. The handle of the tape was almost black, and you found yourself humming a melody as you taped the flowers together just until you’d tied the ribbon around it. You pulled the bouquet away from your face and felt the customer’s eyes on your face, almost insistent, but you kept working with a small smile on your face, catching a glance at your bright orange nails. You remembered your mother saying that colour might be a bit too bright, but since you couldn’t see it well as it was dulled to your eyes, you decided to still go for it. It was fun, after all.

You turned then and looked at the shelf behind you, tilting your head in wonder. There was the blue ribbon that had embarrassed you earlier, small white dots decorating the fabric, and you found it cute how the pastel colours blended nicely together. You glossed over the black and blue ribbons, they wouldn’t make the white pop right now. You needed something intense and eye-catching—like the burgundy fabric that would look gorgeous in contrast with the white flowers! You grinned triumphantly and grabbed it off the shelf, turning around to tie it tightly around the bouquet, making sure the flowers didn’t move while you worked on making the perfect bow, not too small nor too big. Your chest felt warm, and you were aware of your cheeks burning, but you couldn’t decide whether it had gotten warmer inside the shop or if it was the man’s eyes following your every move that made you feel shy. Nonetheless, you smiled brightly as you raised the bouquet and extended it towards the man. His eyes were slightly wide as they frantically searched your face, and you felt a little disheartened as you couldn’t decipher what his reaction meant. Was your bouquet really that gorgeous, or did he perhaps not like it and wasn’t sure how to voice his thoughts?

“Oh,” You muttered, eyebrows slightly raised as you glanced at the man’s burgundy red hair and then at the ribbon, “The ribbon matches your hair! What a coincidence…”

Your smile froze on your face, your heart stilling in your chest. The ribbon matches your hair, kept repeating in your head like a distant echo as your fingers slightly trembled, your eyes running all over the man in a panic. He was taller than you, a bit buff underneath his dark green suit, tailored to fit his body prettily. His necktie was a light orange, a lighter shade that still matched his beautifully dyed hair, his lips a cherry red much like the small heart-shaped discolouration on his left temple. Your breath stuttered in your chest as your hands fell to the counter, mindful of the bouquet in your hands still.

“You’re…”

“I am.” The man sounded just as winded as you did, a huff of disbelief leaving his mouth, “Your socks are so bright, they match your nail colour.”

Your bottom lip trembled as you laughed, looking down at your socks that peeked out from underneath your skirt. They were bright, really bright actually, a neon colour worse than your nails. You had no idea you even owned them, and you wondered why your mother had never said anything about them.

“The bouquet will be 15€.” You said as you typed the amount into the cash register, and the man nodded, opening his dark green briefcase.

“Right, thank you so much.” The man said, fumbling with his wallet as he opened it, pressing the crumpled-up money on the counter. He reached out for the bouquet but hesitated slightly, and you averted your eyes as your fingers brushed together. You had a feeling it wasn’t by accident, given that the man’s cheeks also flushed pink, eyes abashed, “My mother will love it.”

“Happy birthday to your mother.” You found yourself saying as the man pressed his wallet into the small pocket of his suit jacket, briefcase in his firm grip. You didn’t want him to leave, not yet, but you couldn’t keep him here all day…it was his mother’s birthday, after all.

“I’ll come by tomorrow, same time as today. When does your shift end?” Your heart skipped a beat as the man stumbled into the open front door as he was walking backwards, his eyes not leaving you for one second. You chuckled and bit your bottom lip, playing with the money in your hands.

“I have the morning shift; I’ll be ready to go by the time you make it here.” The man’s lips pulled into a wide smile, lighting his whole face up. He looked gorgeous, and you felt breathless as you watched him wave at you and almost get stuck on the door handle, his cheeks flushing pink again as he finally left the store with haste. He glanced back inside through the huge window, and you told yourself to hold it together until you couldn’t see him anymore, and then came the squeals you could barely contain in front of him, your heart racing a mile. You had to take a seat and press your forehead against the cool counter, and even that didn’t help the warmth from spreading throughout your body as if winter was finally over and the first spring sun was here to warm you up from the inside out. That man was your soulmate. Your fingers trembled as you raised your head, blinking hard.

The world was so…different. Everything had colour, absolutely everything, and you didn’t know how to react to it all. The counter, which you thought was a light green or blue, was actually a cute beige colour, the stickers stuck to it a whirlwind of bright colours. You traced them before looking back up, eyes taking in all the beautiful flowers. You couldn’t believe that you could see the yellowness of the Sunflowers, a little taken back that they looked mustard coloured…or was that right? You hadn’t seen mustard yet, so you couldn’t tell; you’d have to test your theory out once you got home. The Lilies, the purple ones, left you in awe of their beauty, and you couldn’t help but walk over to the blue Orchids and trace their petals with a fond smile. You wondered who the man was as you looked out the window dreamily, your heart racing in your chest uncontrollably. He was a gorgeous person, and he also seemed kind; you couldn’t wish for tomorrow to come faster. You giggled to yourself and hurried back behind the counter, hands shaking as you dialled your boss in your excitement, too eager to tell her that you could see all the colour around you now.

            Your hands trembled as you clocked out, locking eyes with your grinning co-worker. She was a bouncing ball of nerves, even more excited than you over the fact that your soulmate was supposed to show up any time now. You chewed on your bottom lip and smoothed down your kaki long skirt, your black blouse thin so you had to cover up due to the morning chill. Your warm and long coat was a bright orange, and on your way home yesterday, you had realised that orange was slowly becoming your favourite colour. Judging based on your wardrobe, littered in colours you had no idea even existed, you had concluded that even unknowingly, your world had always been infused with colours. Your mother cried, and your father jumped around in happiness when you told them about this new development, right while having dinner, accidentally slipping up by saying sunflowers were definitely not mustard coloured. You had wanted to tell them in a cosier setting, perhaps in a cuter way too, but what was done was done. Your mother then made you call your grandmother, who was groggy since she was getting ready for bed, but the soft smile on her lips told you that she was just as happy for you as your parents, co-worker, and boss.

“What was your first impression of him?” Your co-worker smiled brightly at you, fiddling with a ribbon she had difficulty tying around the thick bouquet.

“He’s just…he seems very sweet and caring.” You heard yourself saying, chewing on your bottom lip as your eyes were glued to the huge window. He was supposed to be here a few minutes ago, but then again, he hadn’t specified an exact time when he’d stop by, “His features are really delicate, but he looks manly still. I love his hair, though; it’s so rich in colour.”

“What colour is it?” Your co-worker followed up with her question quickly, too invested to pay any attention to the bouquet she was supposed to finish in five minutes.

“Burgundy, and he has a matching—” You gasped, eyes widening as the man was here. He wore a tailored suit again, a beaver brown—you’d stayed up until a very late hour last night, researching colours and hues, shades and tones, trying to memorise them all in your rush of excitement—and his tie was a darker orange. Your heart was racing furiously as it felt impossible to look away; your eyes met when the man arrived by the door. His eyes were wide, and his cheeks slightly flushed a light pink colour, and you took a deep breath before you turned to wave at your co-worker. She looked stunned, eyes frozen on the man before her grin spread wider, ushering you out the shop with a squeal. It was embarrassing, but you were more preoccupied with walking straight without having your knees give out as you watched the man open the door for you.

“Thank you.” You lowered your eyes as he hummed, stepping aside to make space for you, “Hi…uhm, it’s lovely seeing you again?”

You wanted to facepalm yourself for making it sound like a question, but the man didn’t seem bothered as he chuckled, ducking his head. His suit jacket was nicely folded over his arm, his white shirt clinging to his body. It had gotten significantly warmer by noon, but you were someone who easily got cold, so you didn’t take your coat off.

“Hi, it’s really nice seeing you, yeah.” Then, the man cleared his throat and looked up with more confidence on his face, “I didn’t introduce myself yesterday. I was honestly too stunned to function properly. My name is Kang Yeosang.”

You extended your hand to shake Yeosang’s hand, your soulmate, and blushed when your skin made contact with his. His palm was bigger than yours, and his skin was really soft, but his grip was confident and strong without hurting you. You told him your name, and his eyes sparkled under the bright sunlight, and you felt yourself unable to look away. Yeosang was gorgeous; seldom did you see a man like him. It felt slightly surreal that he was your soulmate, and you felt extremely lucky all of a sudden. You didn’t know him yet, but something told you he was an amazing person.

“Where would you like us to go?” Yeosang’s question reminded you of the fact that you were still standing outside the flower shop, quite blocking the entrance actually, and you flushed darker when you realised your co-worker was most likely watching the two of you.

“Maybe for a stroll in the park just there?” You pointed across the street, the gates of the lovely park in the heart of the city visible. Yeosang nodded enthusiastically and motioned in front of himself as a way to tell you to lead the way. As you took off, you found yourself walking as close by Yeosang’s side as you could without making it weird, and your heart hadn’t stopped racing ever since you saw him. There was something magnetic about the man, about your soulmate, and you felt like you couldn’t last another day without being in his presence. Matter of fact, you didn’t want to be since you’ve waited twenty-five years for this moment.

“Would you like some coffee? Or tea?” Yeosang asked as you two noticed the small coffee stand at the same time and you hummed, looking at Yeosang a little sheepishly.

“I don’t like coffee, but I really like tea.” Yeosang chuckled, something like endearment appearing on his face as he grabbed your elbow gently and veered you away from the oncoming crowd of teenagers.

“That’s funny. I don’t like tea but basically live off of coffee.” You chuckled too, your eyes meeting as Yeosang walked you two over to the coffee stand. There weren’t a lot of tea options, so you settled for wild berries, glad that the vendor had some homemade honey for you to mix with your tea instead of sugar. Yeosang asked for a simple black coffee with ice, a bit of milk and one spoonful of sugar, and you found yourself reciting his order in your mind until you could recall it easily.

With your drinks in your hands, you headed for the crosswalk, having to wait since it was red for the pedestrians. The street was bustling with many people at this hour, and not everyone was as self-aware as you—and it seemed like Yeosang, too—so they either didn’t look where they walked or purposefully pushed people around to get further to the front. You had to make space for a guy on his phone, not paying even a little bit of attention to those around himself as you, too, could hear the music coming from his headphones. You tried to make space for everyone, but before you could step behind Yeosang, you felt fingers sneaking between yours, a warm palm pressed against yours as you were gently guided into Yeosang’s side. His eyes were still sparkling, his cheeks were red—not as red as the discolouration on his temple—and you thought for a second you could hear his rapidly beating heart.

“Is this okay?” He asked almost too quietly for you to hear with the honking cars and loudly conversing people, but you did catch it, and you nodded eagerly, making sure to squeeze Yeosang’s hand for extra confirmation.

“Yes! More than okay, actually.” You sounded more confident than you felt, and Yeosang was suddenly smiling widely, his cheeks pulled up and making him look the softest. Before you could do something as crazy as lean up and nuzzle your nose against his, the light turned green, and you followed the crowd, crossing the street. The walk to the park’s entrance was quiet, your hands fitting perfectly into each other’s, and you revelled in the comfort of it all as Yeosang occasionally glanced at you. The park wasn’t as packed as the sidewalks, and you could freely roam around without bumping into anyone, and yet, your hands stayed intertwined.

“So,” You spoke up, taking a sip of your tea before you faced Yeosang while walking, “What do you do for work? I’m a florist, but you know that much about me already.”

Yeosang hummed, facing you with that adorable small smile on his lips, “I’m a daycare teacher. The school isn’t far from here. You actually saved me yesterday. I was running late for my mother’s birthday dinner, and I thought there weren’t any flower shops close by.”

You chuckled, veering Yeosang away from the flock of birds that didn’t look too friendly, “Did your mother like the bouquet?”

“Yes, she loved it, thank you.” Yeosang then stopped, tilting his head with furrowed eyebrows, “I told them…my parents…that I found my soulmate, and they, well, uhm, they want to meet you. I know it’s too soon, and I asked them to wait a little bit until we’ve gotten to know each other, but they are just too impatient and excited to finally meet you.”

You felt your heart swell and almost burst out of your chest as your smile grew into a wide grin. You didn’t even realise it, but you had taken a step closer to Yeosang, smiling up at him so widely that your cheeks ached. Yeosang looked stunned for a second before he returned your smile, biting his lower lip as he averted his gaze down to the ground, “I’d love that, but I want to do what makes you feel comfortable. If you think we should wait, then we will; if not…just let me know when it’s good for you and your parents.”

Yeosang nodded, his eyes finding yours, “You are so kind.”

“You are too, Yeosang.” You chuckled, and it was your time to look down. Yeosang seemed to feel proud over that compliment before he took off, guiding the two of you through the park.

“I don’t feel like we are rushing, but I think it’s more responsible if we go on a few dates first.” You felt like a high school girl, wanting to squeal over the fact that you’d be going on dates with Yeosang, “My parents are nice people, but they are…well, they had gotten a bit desperate about me finding my soulmate. Honestly, they thought you were dead.”

Well, that thought had never crossed your mind before, but it definitely didn’t sit well with you as you looked at Yeosang with a frown. His expression looked neutral, but he squeezed your hand, “I’m twenty-seven, so they think I’m too old to be single. My parents’ families were close friends, so they’ve always known they are soulmates. They had it easy, so it was weird seeing their son struggle to find his soulmate.”

“Did it hurt you? That you sought me out without success for so long?” You found yourself asking, curious to know how Yeosang felt. He seemed to think for a second, humming as he looked down at his cup of coffee.

“It was frustrating at first, mostly because my parents were also pressuring me.” He looked at you from the corner of his eyes, then shrugged, “Then I realised I wouldn’t find you faster if I made myself mull over it, so I just let it go. Since we are fated to be together, I realised I couldn’t trick fate and quicken the process.”

You hummed in agreement, realising you’ve had a similar mindset to Yeosang’s for the past one or two years, “I’m twenty-five and had lost hope at some point. My parents, similar to yours, met very early on, in middle school. I thought I’d also find my soulmate around that time, and when it didn’t happen, I thought it would come in high school…but then that didn’t happen either, and I felt disheartened, like something was wrong with me. And then I realised I can’t push something that isn’t meant to happen just yet.”

“I’m sorry I made you wait.” Yeosang’s answer was quick, his hand squeezing yours as your eyebrows furrowed.

“Don’t apologise, the wait was worth it in the end.” You giggled, averting your eyes shily.

“Yeah?” Yeosang sounded surprised, perhaps even a bit cocky, “You think so?”

“I think that you’re very handsome, Yeosang, and soft.” There was no reason to be embarrassed in front of your soulmate, certainly not when it came to complimenting him, “You have an aura of kindness and brightness around you; I think it’s everything I wanted in a partner.”

Yeosang was smiling widely again, nodding his head as he became shy once again, “You’re cute and vibrant; your smile makes my heart race. I’m thankful that you are my soulmate.”

You stopped walking, the sudden urge to hug Yeosang wasn’t something you could control, so you threw your arms around his torso and leaned into him, smiling to yourself as your head landed on his shoulder. Yeosang’s arms were quick to go around you, squeezing you into himself, and you realised he smelled like oranges and fresh grass, refreshing and calming. You loved the fresh smell of nature, and you loved Yeosang’s natural fragrance. You heard a chuckle, and suddenly something was plucked out of your hair, making your eyebrows furrow as you slightly pulled back, looking at Yeosang’s hand. A dry leaf was between his fingers, his expression amused.

“You’re like a garden fairy, do bees gravitate towards you during summer?” You laughed and shook your head, feeling a bit embarrassed as Yeosang pocketed the leaf instead of letting it fall to the ground. Your cheeks burned as you two let go of each other, fingers naturally intertwining as you headed for a bench, “Why did you choose to become a florist?”

You sat down on the bench, facing each other, and Yeosang’s knee brushed lightly against your thigh. You held your cup of tea in both hands, playing with it as you looked down in your lap, “Well, I just really love nature. I’ve always felt at ease around my little plants in my room, and then I realised I just really love flowers. They are so beautiful and tender, you have to nurture them and take care of them as if they were human. I feel like I have a connection to nature; it’s like I can be completely myself around all that beauty—and the colours! Oh, I love their colours, they are so gorgeous! I’m so glad you walked into the shop yesterday. I had no idea I was missing out on—so much!”

Yeosang watched with fascination on his face as you spoke, a little overexcited that he wanted to hear your hobbies and likes. It was only normal; you’d have to gradually get to know each other, yet it still felt surreal that the sky was an almost transparent blue, the clouds completely white, the barks of the trees various shades of brown, the grass so green, all the leaves, and all the colourful flowers. You loved seeing all the colour on people, too, how they expressed themselves by their outfits, all the colours inside buildings and outside. You’d have to buy some more colourful furniture for your room since it’s mostly beige and yellow. You wanted to cover your world in the colours of the rainbow, in every possible hue and shade.

“Yes, the world is so…intense now, vibrant. It’s impressive how I could live without it all.” Yeosang’s deep voice was soft and quiet as if he was speaking to himself, “I like being in nature, surrounded by wildlife, away from the noisy city. We could go on hikes and maybe even camping.”

You nodded eagerly, having fond memories of the hikes you had gone on with your friends and family, “I’d really love that, Yeosang. I’ve always wanted to go camping, but my parents don’t like bugs, so we never stayed out after nightfall.”

Both you and Yeosang laughed at that, and then you were eager to learn too about Yeosang, “I imagine you love children since you are a daycare teacher; how did you realise that?”

“It’s nothing too revolutionary,” Yeosang chuckled, finishing his cup of coffee, “I would babysit for our neighbours when I was a teenager, and then my cousin had a baby brother, and I’d spend a lot of time with them. As I was growing up, I realised I was fond of those little ones, so…it just happened, I guess.”

You nodded, understanding him, “Would you want children?”

The answer was obvious to that, but you still wanted to ask, “Definitely, if you’d also like to have children, of course.”

Your whole face flushed, and you coughed, a little taken off-guard by Yeosang’s direct answer. His eyebrows raised and his ears flushed, and suddenly he was stumbling over his words, “I mean—like, whoever is my partner, I care about that! You know, like, whatever my partner wants—whether it’s you or someone else, not that I’m thinking of anyone else—but I’m just…yeah, I think that was too soon, wasn’t it?”

He was adorable, you had to shield your mouth with your hand as you laughed quietly, shaking your head at Yeosang, “I mean, since we are soulmates, I don’t think any topic is too soon, Yeosang.”

“Yeah?” Yeosang asked, not quite looking at you yet, “Right, I mean, sure, that makes sense.”

Comfortable silence settled over the two of you, and you picked a stray string off Yeosang’s knee. He watched you quietly, taking in your serene expression, and your eyes met as you raised your head. You smiled at Yeosang without saying anything for a second, then chuckled, this whole situation feeling unreal. Just yesterday, your whole world was covered in grey and hues of brown, amber and copper—and now, your soulmate sat next to you on a bench, the world infused with so much colour you still weren’t used to it, and to top it off, your soulmate was kind and loving, good with children and soft-spoken despite his uncharacteristically deep voice. His face was gentle, his features almost as if they were sculpted by Greek Gods, his burgundy hair even curlier than yesterday as it was pinned back by a little pink bow, and it made you wonder if it was a child from the daycare that had placed it there. Yeosang’s expression looked a bit baffled as you continued to stare at him without saying a word, and not wanting to look weird, you spoke up, “I’m just admiring you because I cannot believe you are real.”

A surprised gasp left Yeosang’s lips at your words, and he didn’t shy away this time, leaning forward to tuck a stray piece of hair behind your ear. You grinned as he caressed your cheek, his palm warm and his skin soft, and for a second, you forgot there was anyone else in the world beside the two of you, “I’m as real as it can be, and I’m here to stay, by your side, for an eternity, Y/N.”

And your heart skipped another beat hearing his words, your body freezing when Yeosang suddenly started leaning towards you. You were ready, if he wanted to kiss you, then you wanted to feel his plush lips against yours. Your eyes fluttered closed as it felt like your heart was in your throat, but instead of kissing your lips, you felt something warm press against your cheek, underneath your left eye, then your right eye, and it felt more intimate than any other kiss. You bit your bottom lip and opened your eyes, staring deeply into Yeosang’s rich brown ones, an almost red-like hue licking around his irises.

“Would you like to spend the rest of your day with me, Yeosang?”

“I don’t think I want to spend any time away from you from now on, Y/N.”

And you knew in your heart, in your whole being, that the future ahead of you two was bright, vibrant, gentle, and so, so colourful.

© HONGJOONGSPOETRY & BVIDZSOO 2025 - All rights reserved. Copying, editing, reposting or translating our work is not allowed.

[strawberriesandhotmen]

Leather, Whiskey, and Pine

Leather, Whiskey, and Pine

a/n: Y’all. Y’all. The short amount of time in which I wrote this actually does boggle my mind, but I’m so obsessed with it and I can’t wait to hear what y’all think. I love, love, love this Pedro character and I’ve been wanting to write about him for a while. I really tried to give y’all a lot of content for this one because I was putting a lot of effort into every aspect of it, so I hope y’all enjoy. This one’s for you baby @burguesinha24

pairing: dbf!Joel Miller x fem!reader

CW +18 smut: swearing, girthy age gap (reader is legal at all times i repeat at all times and Joel is like late forties idk imagine what you will), LOTS OF TENSION AND BUILD UP, oral (f!recieving), unprotected piv, Joel is like a mild perv here but we’re not judging because we accept it from him (be a perv it’s ok bb), the reader is pretty down bad but basically yeah valid in all ways

word count: 4.3 k

Leather, whiskey, and pine.

Three things, the sense of which that were so distinctly his.

Who would’ve thought that the combination of such vastly separate things could become so addicting, so intoxicating?

Your fall from grace wasn’t quite planned; how could it have been? There was no way to predict that your family would move halfway across the country to Texas, or that your dad would become so uncharacteristically close with the first neighbor who introduced himself, or that the neighbor would be him.

Joel.

You were only seventeen when you first met him, when you first shook his hand, when you first looked into his eyes, when you first heard his voice. He had been so polite, so respectful, a quality you had come to resent whenever it came from him. 

He had hosted a barbeque to welcome your family to the neighborhood; it was so cliche, but oh, how you had enjoyed it. And oh, how he had enjoyed that little sundress you wore. Joel was beyond professional the entire time, aggravatingly so, and you regrettably missed the subtle glances he would send your way every now and then. He knew it was wrong, so taboo, but he couldn’t help himself.

You were the equivalent of heaven on earth. 

Rather conversely, he didn’t miss the way your pretty eyes grazed over his broad shoulders, never failing to linger a moment longer than they should on the zipper of his jeans. It was sinful, how deceptively innocent you looked. Your childlike enthusiasm never failed to amuse him, your doe eyes sparking some very interesting thoughts.

He almost hated himself for the way he silently objectified you, but he couldn’t. How could he? If someone like you was so entranced by him, there must be something worthwhile. 

Pathetic.

Joel was a grown ass man. Generously old enough to be your father, with a year or two left over. All the better, in your mind, but it was torture for Joel. Knowing a pretty young thing like you wanted him like that and he couldn’t do a damn thing about it? No, that knowledge was hell on earth.

It was at one of the many parties your father hosted where you first touched Joel. And not in a simple way, or with a silly handshake. No, it was intimate. At least, the two of you thought so.

He had come into the kitchen while the others were occupied with the football game, catching you in the unfortunate act of sneaking a swig of Tito’s from the cabinet. Rookie mistake, to be sure, risking a drink when anyone could walk in. Rather than guilt, you felt as though the Fates had smiled down at you when Joel strolled in.

He had raised an eyebrow at you, his chocolate brown eyes flickering to the bottle in your hand, likely moments away from being refilled with water. You had bitten your lip, feigning worry and quickly shoving the bottle back into the cabinet. You had stepped closer, peering up at him through those damned eyes of yours.

“You won’t tell, Joel, will you?” Your voice had sounded so sweet, so blameless, but he steeled himself against your whispered words. What kind of friend would he be if he let his best friend’s daughter get away with this? Yes, he had momentarily chosen to ignore the rampant lustful thoughts he had about you on a daily basis.

“Ain’t right, sweetheart.” He had mumbled in his southern drawl, the last word flowing off his tongue so sweetly you could swear he was made of honey. “S’a bad habit.” You could’ve rolled your eyes at his poor attempt to discipline you, but you chose a different route. You raised your delicate, manicured hand to grasp his forearm, leaning in closer.

“Please, Joel?” And fuck, the sight of you pleading for him like that? The only thing missing was you on your knees. He couldn’t possibly deny you your secret now, not with how you were looking at him so desperately. It was feigned, of course; like you gave a shit if your parents found out. But him; you gave a shit for him.

With a defeated sigh and a soft smile, Joel took a swig from the bottle himself before handing it over to you. He leaned in close, his lips millimeters away from the shell of your ear as his hand rested gently on your exposed shoulder.

“Ain’t right, what you do to me.” You shivered at his wholly inappropriate words with wholly inappropriate connotations, blinking once or twice as he walked away to be sure you weren’t dreaming. While there was no real way to explain away what he had said, your mind damn well tried.

He was just kidding, he was being facetious, that jokester. If you could’ve thought of another synonym for ‘joking,’ you would’ve used it. As much as you wanted your deepest desires to come true, your greater desire happened to be not entirely embarrassing yourself by misinterpretation.

The following weeks turned into months, which soon turned into a year. You were finally off to college, which regrettably led you away from Joel. It’s for the best, you thought, deceiving yourself once again into believing you miraculously misinterpreted every glance, every linger of his touch, everything.

Despite every bit of judgement shoving you in the other direction, you had made the poor decision to invite Joel to your graduation party. Your dad would be there, so it couldn’t seem too weird, right? 

Right? 

You had convinced yourself of it either way, slipping into the shortest dress you owned under the ceremonious robes. The heels you had chosen elongated your legs just enough, the curls in your hair perfectly framing your face. God, you were so desperate for him.

This time, you hadn’t blindly missed the way his gaze lingered on your accentuated calves, or the way he had kept shifting uncomfortably in his seat. Maybe jeans weren’t the best choice, he had thought to himself. An unfortunate lack of forethought on his part.

He had felt as though the party would never end, forced to watch you laugh and dance with you friends, looking so pretty when you smiled. He had snuck out after a while onto the balcony, leaning against the railing with a glass of whiskey in his hand. He had needed air, and appropriate space from you.

Rather unluckily, you had somehow wandered to that very place of respite, finding your place beside him against the railing.

“Party too much for you, old man?” You had teased playfully, nudging his shoulder with your own. He let out a scoff at your would-be insult, unable to fight back the amused smile pulling on his lips.

“You underestimate me, sweetheart.” That sexy southern drawl of his mixed with those words had your stomach fluttering, and you even grasped the rail a little tighter.

“Do I?” You had stepped closer, your upper arm now pressed against his. Tease, he had thought. You knew exactly what you were doing. He grunted in acknowledgement, not trusting himself to speak when you looked like that.

Your plump, pink lips slightly parted, your eyes a little wide as you stared up at him, a strand of hair or two out of place across your forehead.

Before he could stop himself, his calloused hand was already tucking that strand back into place behind your ear, the pad of his finger trailing down to the crook of your neck. You involuntarily shivered at his touch, earning a pleased smirk from him.

Damn my responsiveness, you had thought to yourself. In a shred of buzzed courage, you mimicked his actions, allowing your finger to rest in the same place on him. You smiled triumphantly as he reacted in the same way.

Parallels, parallels, parallels.

A thought had popped into your head; a bad one. You knew it would be wrong to actually ask something of him, especially given the very specific circumstances you found yourselves in, but it had seemed as though it couldn’t be helped. Looking back, it could have. You could have stopped yourself, using a rare opportunity to exercise better judgement, but instead you employed the progressive philosophy that had worked for you thus far.

Fuck it.

“Joel?” You had hummed sweetly, tearing your eyes away from where you were still touching him to meet his gaze. His breath hitched at the look in your eyes; so innocent, but so full of something he couldn’t quite place. He had mimicked your hum, words failing him as he urged you to continue.

“I…” You had hesitated, suddenly increasingly unsure of yourself. Swallowing thickly, you steeled yourself under his knee-weakening gaze and took your chance. “I want you to kiss me.”

If Joel had been taking a drink at that moment, he would’ve choked. Those words were the last things he expected to fly out of your mouth so immediately, almost casually. But you were feeling anything but casual. If anything, you felt as though your panties might vanish by the very look he was giving you.

Before he could snap himself out of his state of disbelief, you shifted your hand to grasp his forearm, your eyes now filled with something akin to urgency.

Desperation.

“I’ve never kissed anyone, Joel, and I…” You swallowed thickly. “I want you to be my first.” You could’ve cringed visibly at the ridiculous words you had just spoken, but upon seeing Joel’s  reaction, you realized he might not have had the same impression.

He looked flustered.

“Sweetheart, I-” You cut him off, placing a finger to his lips to silence him. It was his turn to shiver at your touch.

“Please, Joel.” Jesus Christ, those words. Those same words you had whispered to him a year ago, and how he had longed to hear them again. You were breaking him, his resolve slowly crumbling. He fought with himself internally, and you could see the gears turning behind those deep brown eyes. He wanted to, God, he needed to, but he couldn’t.

It was wrong.

In this case, too wrong for him to come to terms with at that moment.

He had taken an uncertain step backward, your hand falling to your side as he put the distance between you.

“Have fun at college, darlin’.” He rasped, sounding as though he were talking through a lump in his throat. “We’ll miss ya’.” He whispered the last part, and you could swear you heard a sniffle as he walked away. And with only a few simple words, the man you had wanted for the past year of your life had broken your heart.

He had broken you.

In the months that followed, you soon found that college life bored you. At no parties, in no friendships, during no meaningless flings could you find what you had felt with Joel. What you had felt just by being in his mere presence was something no boy could give you, and you came to realize no other man could, either.

Tiny, insignificant memories of him had begun to fade into the background, new and equally insignificant experiences and people taking over the place in your mind he had once dominated. It was more a forced forgettance, to be sure, not really a natural occurrence. Nothing you did could ever truly get rid of Joel; no, he always lingered in your thoughts, in your heart that you had since glued back together.

No mindless, useless sex or nameless guy above you could make you forget him, the smell of him, the feel of him. Ironically, you nearly did forget he would be there when you returned home from the summer, partially due to him purposefully ‘missing’ visits during holidays.

He had avoided them at all costs. After all, how could he face you after that night? He had turned down the most beautiful girl he had ever seen, who had conveniently, metaphorically fallen at his very feet. He was an idiot, and he knew it. He assumed you did too.

And that is why it was such a shock when you finally did see him at the ‘welcome home’ party your parents had thrown for you. That is why your heart nearly beat out of your chest at the sight of his rolled up sleeves, those beautifully defined forearms, his greying beard and soft curls atop his head, his fucking eyes.

Whoever said that brown eyes are the worst color can park their foot up their ass because it’s a damn lie.

You suddenly felt self conscious about your outfit choice, all for nought as it fully grabbed Joel’s attention. The sight of your fucking ass in those jean shorts could’ve made him bust then and there, but he had a little more class than that.

A little.

You had reduced him to the likes of a pervy (perfectly welcome) teenage boy, holding a pillow over his lap on the couch to obstruct anyone’s view of his painful hard-on. And God, when you walked up to him as you adjusted the strap of that little tank top, he thought he could die. He almost wanted to when your eyes flickered to the frilly pillow he was squeezing the life out of.

“Hey, Joel. It’s been a long time.” Shit, your smile. You were effortlessly pretty, and he was convinced you would never know how much. You couldn’t, because it was practically blinding.

“Hey yourself, sweetheart.” Your knees nearly buckled at the tilted smile on his face, but you narrowly managed to keep your composure. Since you could tell he wouldn’t be standing any time soon, you plopped on the couch next to him, bouncing up slightly as the cushion springs gave way. Clearing his throat, Joel forced himself to speak.

“How’s college treatin’ ya’?” He drawled smoothly, fighting against all odds to keep his eyes from trailing down to your cleavage.

Fuck, I should be institutionalized, he thought.

“It’s…different, I suppose.” You shrugged casually, leaning into the plush cushion against your back.

“How so?” He rasped, clearing his throat awkwardly. You were too entranced by his sizable hands and thick fingers to notice.

“Well, I guess it’s quite like high school except…bigger?” Idiot. Dumb, stupid, moron. Why couldn’t you talk to him? Everything used to be so easy between the two of you, and you supposed you had ruined it that night.

Unfortunate.

He let out a little laugh, distracting himself from his own awkwardness by focusing on yours. It was cute when it was you. Before you had time to talk any longer, a friend called you away, forcing you to excuse yourself in the manner you least wanted to. You wanted to stay. You wanted to stay with him.

It wasn’t until an hour later when you both found yourselves on that same balcony, staring at the same stars you had been a year ago.

“Beautiful, aren’t they?” Your voice was airy, gentle, almost wistful as you gazed at the twinkles in the sky. He smiled, nodding in agreement, his eyes anywhere but the stars.

He was looking at you.

“Stunning.” He muttered the word so quietly that you almost didn’t hear it. Almost. You decided to refrain from teasing him about his obvious behavior, at least for the time being. He was making you feel too many things all at once.

Heartbreak, joy, melancholy, desire.

A comfortable silence fell over the two of you as you leaned over the railing, still admiring the view you found to be so peaceful. You had never been truly uncomfortable around Joel. Flustered, surely, but never uneasy. It wasn’t possible.

“Hope you don’t mind me sayin’ this, darlin’, but…” He hesitated, his eyes flickering between yours. His voice dropped a pitch as he continued, subconsciously leaning closer. “You look real pretty tonight.” A blush spread across your cheeks like wildfire, and you spared a look down at your lacking outfit. Before you could reject the complement, he shook his head, silencing your unspoken rebuttal with just one look.

“Real pretty.” Your lips parted as your breath hitched, and you could feel the sincerity in his eyes. He always meant what he said, even if he didn’t always say what he wanted.

Looking at you, Joel’s resolve was quickly fading into the background, the sight of you staring up at him so innocently stirring something dangerous inside him. He was preparing to abandon every boundary he had set that night, without a care in the world for what the consequences might be.  

“Joel-” The very instant that his whispered name left your perfect lips, that was it. You had now broken him as he had broken you. Utterly and completely. It wasn’t a moment before he was on you, pinning you against the railing with his hands on your hips, his lips on yours.

Your first kiss.

Sure, you had been with some of the guys at college, but you had maintained one standard rule. No kissing. It was completely pathetic, to be sure, but in this moment you praised whatever higher power there was that you had the foresight to stick with it. This made it all worth it, every disgusted sneer, every joke made in poor taste, every insult.

He was worth it.

You hadn’t expected your first kiss to be so climactic, or so genuinely pivotal. But it truly felt like fireworks the moment he pressed his mouth to yours, your lips moving in tandem to create a perfect rhythm. Your fingers tangled in his curls, tugging lightly as he pressed his body so close to yours that you thought you might become one.

He pulled back for a split second, only for air, before cupping the back of your head and diving in with more passion than before. He let his tongue glide over your bottom lip, taking advantage of the gasp it earned him and sliding his tongue into your mouth. Yours tangled with his, trapped in a beautiful dance that you never wanted to end. You wanted to stay like this forever.

You pulled away this time, panting heavily and staring up at him with half-lidded eyes.

“You really like kissing.” You pointed out stupidly, metaphorically drunkenly, toying with the bit of hair at the nape of his neck. He huffed out an amused laugh, running a hand through his mussed curls.

“I really like kissin’ you, baby.” He cruelly didn’t allow you time to process those poetic words before he was on you again, hauling you to sit atop the railing as he moved in between your thighs. And you could see, or rather, feel, that he really did like kissing you, as if he couldn't survive one more moment apart from your lips.

In a blissful moment of peace, with just him against you, you could sense those three things again.

Leather, whiskey, and pine.

The leather of his jacket under your fingertips, the whiskey on his tongue as it swirled with yours, the pine that just was embedded in him.

It was just Joel.

When you both realized you couldn’t go any farther on the very exposed balcony, he whisked you inside of your bedroom, gingerly setting you atop the frilly sheets that had been there since you left last fall. He finally allowed his lips to grant you attention elsewhere, to press open mouthed pecks to the soft skin of your neck, moving down to your collarbone, and then your chest. He undressed you with so much care it was as if lust wasn’t even a factor, as if he was doing it for you.

He let out a muffled moan against your neck as he felt your hands on his chest, sneaking under his shirt before you removed it completely. You marveled at the way his muscled chest heaved with each pant, at the way his biceps flexed as he hovered above you. He was so perfect.

Within minutes you were both bare for each other, Joel’s eyes blown wide as they landed on the space between your thighs. He thought you were perfect.

“God, baby, you’re so pretty.” He breathed, settling himself between your thighs in a trance, hooking your legs over his shoulders. You clutched the sheets beneath you in anticipation, letting your head fall back onto the pillow. When his lips met your core, you let out a breathy moan, arching off the bed as he pleasured you like no one had before.

With just his mouth.

He hadn’t even used his fucking fingers yet.

The moans he let out against your dripping pussy wracked through your body, and you fought to keep from suffocating him with your thighs. He gripped onto the plush skin tightly, his tongue working you like a man starved.

And he did feel like he had been truly starved of you.

His tongue flicked over your swollen clit, the wiry hairs of his beard scratching against your sweat-sheened skin as his fingers finally made their way inside of you, stretching you open deliciously to get you ready for what was to come. He let his free hand toy with your sensitive bud as he pulled away, his eyes locked on how your pussy clenched around his thick, veiny fingers as they curled to hit the perfect spot. You writhed underneath him restlessly, a hand clamped over your mouth to muffle the moans that wouldn’t stay inside.

“Joel, m’gonna-” It was so cliche, but so, so intense. You were right on the edge, the very precipice, and he pulled away. You gasped at the feeling of being so suddenly empty, your brow knitting together as you shot up.

“Wha-” He cut you off, pinning your arms beside your head as he crawled on top of you.

“Need to be inside you when you come, pretty girl. Wanna feel you.” He mumbled, sucking on your neck as he blindly aligned himself with your entrance. You instinctively wrapped your legs around his hips, tugging him impossibly closer as your arms remained beside your head. He let out a low, guttural groan as he slowly inched inside of you, still so tight even though he had worked you over for what felt like a blissful eternity.

“Fuck, sweetheart, so fuckin’ tight.” He rasped, his voice hoarse with desire as he bottomed out, his leaking tip kissing your cervix. You were speechless, breathless as he began to pull back again, only to thrust in fully once more. And again, and again, and again.

He set a relentless pace, and you could swear he reached a deeper place with each snap of his hips, his pelvis smacking against your nearly overstimulated clit. You whined and moaned louder than you should have, unable to be silenced as his veiny cock stretched your slick walls around him.

“Don’t - shit - don’t stop, Joel, p-please…” You moaned, your back arching almost painfully off of the bed. He had no intention of stopping. In fact, spurred on by your plea, his pace only increased, your mouth falling open and your eyes clamping shut as it all became too much.

As that knot in your stomach grew unbearably, as he fucked into you harder, as he held onto you tighter…

It all came crashing down.

You didn’t even register that you came together, the stuttering of his hips failing to distract from the overwhelming sensation of your orgasm crashing through your body, thrumming through your veins, unrelenting.

His arms shook with the struggle to keep from collapsing on top of you, and he soon rolled onto his side, pulling you with him. With his scruffy, unshaven face buried in your neck, he breathed you in deeply. He always did love the scent of your shampoo.

“My sweet girl.” He hummed, the sound muffled under your hair. “Been wantin’ you for so long.” The admittance was soft, but so clearly heard. Exhaustion was quickly taking you over, though, preventing you from responding in the way that you truly wanted. He smiled softly at your little grunt of acknowledgment, leaving momentarily and returning with a warm cloth to clean the both of you with. He was gentle, ever the gentlemen as if he hadn’t just ravaged you entirely, returning to the bed not soon enough. 

You entangled yourself with him, quite like a koala, and nuzzled your face into his chest. You could feel his very essence as you laid with him, experiencing him so deeply and fully. Those three words left your mouth before you could even stop yourself.

“I love you, Joel.” You had drifted off before he could even reply; but he did, and with those same three words you had been dying to hear fall from his lips for two years.

And in your sleep you dreamed of him and those same three things, the things you had longed for forever.

Leather, whiskey, and pine.

[lazysoulwriter]

not your nephew! - pedro pascal.

requested! thank you for sending, babe. hope you like it.

---

It all started because Pedro thought you were too perfect to be single.

"Mi sobrino would love you," he said, mouth full of empanada, pointing at you like he'd cracked the code to your love life.

You blinked at him over your wine glass. "Pedro, he's twenty-two."

"And you’re—?"

"Twenty-eight."

"That's not illegal!" He grinned like he'd just solved a Rubik’s cube. You, meanwhile, seriously considered shoving him off his own couch.

Pedro had always been a little too involved in your dating life for someone who allegedly didn’t care. But this? Setting you up with his awkward, baby-faced nephew who called TikTok a “lifestyle platform”? It was pushing it.

Still, you agreed. Because how do you say no to Pedro Pascal when he looks at you with those big brown eyes and that stupid little smirk?

Answer: you don’t.

So you met the nephew. He was nice. Sweet, even. But he spent twenty minutes talking about protein powders and said Marvel peaked with Eternals, so... yeah. No sparks. Not even a flicker.

Pedro looked shocked when you told him. "But you're both cute and weirdly obsessed with almond milk! I thought it was fate!"

You laughed. “Almond milk is not a personality trait.”

Weeks passed. Pedro stopped playing Cupid, but now every time you were alone, something felt... off. Charged. Like the air got heavier when he sat too close. Like your heart skipped when he ruffled your hair or called you “sweetheart” in that gruff, teasing way.

Maybe it was just you. Crushing. Quietly. Painfully. On your best friend who thought you were good enough for his nephew, but not for him.

Until one night, after a movie marathon and too many shared blankets, you just... cracked.

You turned to him, cheeks warm and voice small. “Can I tell you something dumb?”

Pedro muted the TV, blinking. “Always.”

“I think I—” You paused. “I had a crush on your nephew.”

He raised a brow. “Really? You had a crush?”

“Yeah.” You looked down. “But I got over it. ‘Cause I realized it wasn’t really him.”

Pedro shifted. “Then who?”

You took a breath. “You.”

Silence. Then a little laugh — almost disbelieving.

“Me? Me?” He pointed at himself like you'd just nominated him for prom king. “I’m— I’m old.”

You smiled nervously. “Yeah, but you’re Pedro.”

He blinked again. “But I have back pain. And I use eye cream now. And I talk about mortgages for fun.”

You shrugged. “I still like you.”

He stared. Then, slowly, his mouth curved into that soft, crooked smile that made your stomach flip.

“Well,” he said, “I guess I’ll have to stop setting you up with my entire bloodline then.”

---

[mercurial-chuckles]

I met them, and now I’m their queen!

Pairing: Steve Rogers x F!Reader x Bucky Barnes | Stucky x F!Reader Warnings: Fluff | Language | Hot supersoldiers alert | Clingy supersoldiers | We've got game supersoldiers | Protective and borderline obsessive | Wet thoughts | Allusions to hot nights | Slight angst but happy ending | Confession | Friends to Lovers trope | Poly relation | Long one ~5k | Written in a feverish haze. Any, I mean, any craziness can and will be blamed on deliriously Nyquiled-mind! Lemme know if I'm missing anything. A/N: It really started with, "Let's write a drabble," and well, IT DID NOT end up being a drabble! But blame the two hot super soldier specimens for taking reins and striding through dominantly. This was supposed to be published (along with three other fics) on New Year's, but times have been testing! Anyhoo, Sydney and I—ever indulgently—worked ourselves up with some ideas and this burgeoned, and we both decided to collaborate having similar title and prompt. Inspiration: — confession to get it off their chest before the new year starts Read Sydney's I met them, and now I'm their princess and smother her story with love and affection! Forever grateful to Sydney for giving me the push to publish this and for giving this long-ass fic a read while I was sick and whiny! @buck-star Also, if there are any Windows 11 users, do you know an easy way of typing the em dash (Alt+0151 is no longer an option) Every time I have to use, I have to copy and paste and it's been a pain in my butt. So, any shortcuts would be a great help! Note: Do not Steal, Copy, or Plagiarize any part of my work! Banner credits to me. Picture credits to internet! Divider credits to @buck-star Thank you :) Check out my other works: Masterlist

Indulge Away!

'Have you been Naughty or Nice?'

I've been disastrous. You thought, snorting, looking at the quite colorful, only-for-adult-eyes kind of a poster.

While walking briskly to the truck in the parking lot, your eyes inadvertently fell on the shirtless guy with a Santa hat and red trousers posing sultrily. The show had been for Christmas Eve, now nearly a week old. Lucky patrons!

And your useless, absolutely horny mind brought images of two rugged, burly-looking muscular supersoldiers adorning the costume, and you shuddered.

Nope. No. No. Do not go there.

*Thud*

The distant sound startled you, and you looked down the deserted street but found nothing. You became aware of your surroundings and realized you were standing before a shady-looking strip club. Heart pounding, you hurried toward the truck you'd parked at the end of the street.

The local hill town was vastly different from NYC. By 8 p.m., the main street was completely vacant; the local stores were all closed for the night except for the convenience store at the gas station on the end of the main street and a local vet hospital, both of which you paid a visit tonight.

You quickly got into the truck and navigated out of the small town towards your temporary abode, decked in the woods near the lake.

It was New Year's Eve, and the entire day's theme was a series of unfortunate events and bad decisions.

Earlier that afternoon, having used up all the leftovers, takeouts, and groceries, you decided to venture out to find food. You cursed yourself for being so pathetic and unplanned. It was a hard bet you'd find a store open today or tomorrow.

You should have planned better, but it was what it was, and your poor mind couldn't possibly think logically when it was going through so much. So, forgiving yourself, you decided to drive to the town, hoping to get something to stock up the tiny kitchen for the next couple of days before you can go grocery shopping like a responsible adult.

But lo and behold, you had a flat tire. After groaning and cursing at your fate for a whole three minutes, you realize your aunt mentioned that you could take her truck around if it's still working.

You grabbed the keys and went to the garage. The truck seemed in good condition, with no flat tires. GREAT! You tried to start, but it won't budge. The check engine light blinked red.

Upon further inspection, you realized the spark plug was out and saw a pair of them in a cabby on the metal rack. You weighed your options, changing the spark plug in a somewhat cold and dim-lit garage or changing a tire in the chill out in the dark. It was an easy choice.

So, for the next two hours, you replaced the spark plug. Huffing and out of breath, you started the engine, which purred to your satisfaction. Feeling accomplished, you went to the only open convenience store and stocked up on some groceries. Fiona, the cashier, was a middle-aged lady who didn't talk much, unlike the other folks in the town.

When you went to pay, you realized you had left your phone. You must have left it in the cabin when you went to search for the truck keys.

Ugh! Sometimes, you hated that you remembered directions. It made you less dependent on your phone. Luckily, you had your wallet on you.  

After bidding bye to Fiona, you loaded the two brown bags into the truck. It was then you heard the yowling and the hisses. You saw the small white kitten by the lamppost in the parking. It looked like an Angora. She hurt her leg and was profusely bleeding. Your heart tugged painfully.

You unzipped your coat slightly and carefully lifted her up. She clutched at your shirt, meowing. You rushed to the convenience store inside, scaring sweet Fiona almost to death. You explained about the kitten, and she gave directions to the vet. She even called, telling them you would be coming with an injured cat.

So, you thanked her and decided to walk since it was not far, and the poor kitty seemed far too comfortable in your arms. As soon as you reached the corner house in the location, a young guy and a woman were waiting outside. The woman introduced herself as Darlene. She seemed nice and took the kitten gently from your hands. You waited for a bit while Darlene checked on the injuries.

However, the weirdly creepy receptionist, Mark, seemed to take too much interest in you, and he asked questions. A lot of questions. And he made you pretty uncomfortable. Luckily, Darlene walked out to tell you all was fine and that she would keep a watch on the kitten overnight. You were grateful that it wasn't anything serious. You promised to drop by tomorrow after she said it was okay for you to visit since it was a holiday.

Mark told you he'd walk you to the truck and wouldn't take no for an answer. By some miracle, Darlene understood and called him for something she needed. He begrudgingly got to work, giving you time to escape.

Yeah, it had been one crazy evening. Now that you think of it, the past month has been the same way.

****

In retrospect, it started with you getting buzzed after the Thanksgiving dinner at the compound. The seemingly innocent discussion with Vision about the white hole and string theory shifted to abstract physics. Then, it veered to your favorite multiverse causality, which brought to this discussion about your supersoldiers.

"You have such affection for them," Vision remarked.

"Of course I do," you replied breezily, sipping down the espresso martini. "They're my best friends." You grinned.

Vision tilted his head, studying you, dissecting your thoughts. "It is more than that," he said gently. "You love them. And it transcends friendship."

"What? No," you scoffed, a nervous laugh bubbling up. "That's... I mean, Vision, come on. It's not like that."

You defended, deterred, and denied. And you argued passionately with Vision that he was wrong and entirely out of his depth.

He gave you a smile. "One only argues this fervently when the truth threatens to unravel their carefully constructed narrative. No?"

And the point hit home like Thor's lightning.

Love? That wasn't love. That was friendship. Mutual respect. Admiration, loyalty, and the way they made you feel so cared for, and so so protective, it ought to be friendship! That's all it was. Wasn't it? Friends spend all day, every day together. Friends, just know what you need before you even say it... Friends do that. Totally!

You shook your head, muttering about Vision overanalyzing human emotions, and excused yourself to refill your drink. But his words trailed you, seeping in and breaking every carefully shackled, dreamy thought you occasionally had.

And your eyes landed on them. They were in the kitchen with Sam and Bruce. When your eyes met Steve's, he was already gazing at you. He wiggled your favorite ice cream in his hand, scooped it into a bowl, and winked at you. And Bucky's eyes softened when you met his gaze. He was in a mid-argument with Sam and casually leaned beside Steve, giving you a grin.

Your breath stilled. And something fucking snapped in place, and that realization disrupted everything.

Holy Shit!

Sitting on the nearby couch, you trembled as the flooding thoughts overtook your senses and limbs.

You've been inseparable for years now. You've known Steve even longer since he came out of the ice. Steve and you both were there to help Bucky through his healing. It had been a long journey through ups and downs, but you all were here with a somewhat stable life.

Now, there were times you felt extremely frustrated with the way they treated you, extremely protective and like you were delicate. They were there through your every whim and craziness; likewise, you were there for them. Though initially fostering a crush on both, becoming friends with them sidetracked your crush, or that was what you thought. Apparently not!

That rigid fact of love and its effects took hold of you, and you became even more aware of your predicament as time passed. Your thoughts buzzed as Steve casually sat beside you, eating ice cream while Bucky stole a few spoons from yours. The situation worsened when they fussed over your unusually quiet behavior, asking a hundred and some questions if something happened or if you were falling sick. You pulled yourself together and told them you were fine and downright rejected them staying over.

You woke up drenched that night, not from a nightmare; it was more of a wet dream starring two supersoldiers. What followed was you being hyper-focused on every little thing and how obsessively protective they were with you. And your heart was craving more, basking at their every little action.

It was bad.

And it got worse as the dreams continued and their worry for you catapulted, wondering what's going on with you.

Now, personal space was not a concept with both men. They were practically living two doors away in your apartment complex. And they were always around you.

You were starting to realize how fucked up the situation was. There was no way in the world this could work out. You loved them both. And you were acutely aware of their love for each other. How was this ever gonna work out?

Afraid of losing them, knowing you had no defenses against their piercing awareness of every flicker of your expression and every erratic heartbeat, you decided to take some time away. After all, distance helped you hate your family less. Out of sight, out of mind, right? You thought, why not try?

But it was not that easy to suddenly up and leave. Opportunity came in the form of a mission in Arizona. It was a level-2 mission, a low-level, routine assignment, far below the high-stakes operations you usually handled with the Avengers. Kert Harrison, the mission lead, seemed pleasantly surprised when you volunteered.

You let Steve and Bucky know only after you were strapped into the jet, delivering the news as casually as you could manage: the team needed a tech assistant, and you'd joined at the last minute.

Thus started the careful ghosting.

And the group chat exploded with messages. Bucky demanded the details, cursing up a storm, and you replied, 'Chill out, Sergeant, you know I can't communicate that stuff.'

You've ignored them after that. The mission was simple, walk-in-the-park simple, walk-in-the-house simple. Kept you occupied, though. But once the mission was done, the pit in your stomach grew, and the thought of seeing them terrified you.

"A little more time would help," you told yourself, "Just a little more time to breathe."

Knowing that Captain Softly Stern and Sergeant Toughly Tender would be your doom if you were anywhere close to them in this mindset, you ran for the hills. Quite literally.

Your aunt Ellen had a cabin in a small mountain town in NC. Conveniently, she was in Hawaii, leaving her cabin all alone. So, you decided it could use some company.

You then dropped a vague message telling them your aunt needed you, a family emergency, which was far from the truth.

And it sounded like the perfect Christmas. To be home alone.

But the problem was the cabin was not just lonely. It was alone lonely. The nearest town was 20 minutes away. Decked somewhere in the deep woods, a few other cabins surrounded near the lake. It suited Aunt Ellen, though. She occasionally came up to write or chill from the hustle and bustle of California.

And it didn't help that the whole setting felt like a Stephen King novel waiting to manifest. You couldn't help but internally whimper, but you sucked it up, pushing yourself to make it through.

You ignored the worried calls, always leaving them a text reply with a vaguely convincing excuse.

Guilt burgeoned your chest steadily for not spending Christmas with them. For the past few years, you three cozied up on the winter nights, cooking, baking, arguing, decorating, binge watching & cringe watching and the whole prospect had become a tradition.

Two days before Christmas, Steve had left a message asking if you could make it home. Home. He called it home, and your heart pained.

'Not likely, Steve.' You texted him.

'🥺🥹😭💔' he replied, making you almost break down and cry. He never sent any sort of emojis, and you always teased him about it. 'Emojis do the whole work and some, Steve.' You had told him a long, long while ago.

Steve might have thought this was the time to come after your heart with the series of emojis he sent. You had no guts to reply.

Bucky, however, seemed to stop buying your excuses after you ignored his calls. He stopped calling and texting altogether. It was typical Bucky. He got passively aggressive until you gave in. And you mustered a ton of courage to not just call or text.

Christmas morning, you woke up feeling like the Grinch. The memory of the worst Christmas when you were fourteen has been replaced by Christmas this year. This one felt far worse.

Steve left a voice message. "Merry Christmas, sweetheart. It's not the same without you." He sighed, voice soft and tattered. "We…miss you," his soft, broken voice shattered your heart even more.

Bucky, on the other hand, ignored you royally. But by the afternoon, he left a text with two words, 'Merry Christmas.' And your shattered heart further splintered.

This brilliant need-some-space vacation idea was supposed to be an escape, a way to clear your mind, to get over everything swirling inside. But it was only making things worse. It felt like you were meditating on them, and only them?

Ugh!

You mustered courage and called them that evening. Bucky picked up first, his voice gruff, replies short and clipped. "Fine. You doing good?" You hummed. "How's your aunt?" Steve piped in. They must've put you on speaker.

"She's ok," you said, and before they prodded, you asked them about their day. They mentioned getting your gifts, but other than that, they hadn't done much. The conversation felt hollow, and guilt weighed heavy on you. You felt like the worst person in the world.

Hurriedly, you said your goodbyes, fighting the tears that threatened to spill.

And then, you succumbed to the loneliness that clung to your heart and the messiness that tangled your thoughts. You spent six agonizing days in the cabin in the woods, fighting every instinct to run back to them.

That was a week ago. Seven horrible days ago. Today was New Year's Eve, and you thought you could use some sustenance, but it had already been one hell of a day.

~

Driving back to the cabin, you felt someone was watching you. You shook it off, chalking it up to the weird encounter with Mark. He'd set your nerves on edge, that's all. And at least the kitten was alright.

Pulling into the cabin's garage, you parked your car, not noticing the unfamiliar vehicle parked on the other side. You made your way to the other side to grab the grocery bags. The cold mountain air nipped at your skin.

The sound of boots against the gravel made you freeze. Your heart slammed into your ribs, and your pulse raced. There were a few other cabins nearby, but why would someone trespass, you wondered.

Was it Mark? Had he followed you? You grabbed the nearest thing within reach, a hammer, from the small wooden table.

The sound of heavy steps approached closer and closer, and you tightened your grip, preparing to swing. You almost threw the hammer, too, but realizing who stood there made you whimper in relief and dread.

"What the fuck? What are you two doing here?" you yelled, confused and rattled.

Steve briskly walked toward you, his expression concerned. "Is that blood?" he asked, his eyes narrowing as he tried to get a look at your neck and hands.

Oh? You glanced at yourself and then up at them.

"Are you hurt?" Steve repeated his question sternly, pulling down the zipper to your jacket, completely unbothered.

"HEY!" You shook your head, stepping away from his hold. At least you tried.

Before you could protest, Bucky came closer, his brow furrowed as he unzipped your jacket, swatting away your tiny hand. Both of them froze, staring at your shirt. You glanced down and groaned. You'd forgotten you were wearing a Captain America T-shirt now covered in blood.

Steve blinked, visibly surprised. They had no idea you owned any Captain America merchandise, let alone a few bobbleheads, one of a metal-armed man and another of the man himself holding his shield, both of which you'd secretly bought earlier this year.

Bucky turned you around, cold fingers holding your chin up, demanding if you were hurt. Your breath hitched, looking up at him. His stubble was slightly grown, and the stressed look on his face made you more worried. You glanced at Steve; he looked like he hadn't slept in days, and his knuckles looked marred like he had been going at the punching bags.

"I'm fine." You whispered, not meeting their gaze and staring at the soft blue undershirt covering Bucky's broad chest. Steve had taken the hammer you still held in your hands and carefully placed them on the table.

"Start talking before you give us a heart attack," he sternly demanded.

You rolled your eyes and cleared your hazy mind. You took a steadying breath before explaining to them that it wasn't your blood and what had actually happened with the kitten, omitting Mark of course. When you finished, you glanced up at them, who looked at you angrily.

Bucky sighed, and he took another deliberate step closer to you. "Family emergency, huh?" he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Then why are you here playing house in the middle of nowhere while your aunt Ellen is in Hawaii?"

Your eyes widened, "How the hell…?" your question faltered on your lips as you caught the guilty look in Steve's eyes while Bucky shrugged smugly.

"Never mind. Don't answer that," you muttered, reminding yourself that you were talking to Captain America & the ex-Winter Soldier.

Steve zipped up your jacket when you shivered from the sudden gust of wind. "Let's go inside," he ordered. You nodded, reaching for the bags, but Bucky was already there, pushing you aside.

"Get your ass inside. I've got them," he grumbled, clearly angry at you for ghosting them.

You walked with Steve and Bucky beside you, fumbling for your keys, but Steve simply pushed the door open. "Don't bother," he mumbled.

"Unbelievable," you muttered. "You pried open the door?" you squeaked.

"Your phone was inside. Your car was outside. No sign of you," Bucky said defensively. "What the fuck did you expect us to do?"

When you glanced at Steve, who tended to be less of a rule-breaking hazard than Bucky, he shrugged, "Oh, I was this close to breaking it down. Thanks to Bucky, we managed to keep it intact." Steve chuckled, holding the door open for you and Bucky to enter.

"Ugh," you groaned, storming into the cabin with them trailing behind.

"Nice shirt, by the way," Steve commented as you walked in, "Didn't know you were a fan."

"Of course you like it," Bucky chuckled, glancing at Steve with that grin you were all too familiar with. Steve straightened up proudly.

"Do you also have a Winter Soldier plushie hiding somewhere? No judgment if you do." Bucky snickered, reaching you, dropping the bags on the counter, and effectively cornering you in the small kitchen.

Your face burned. "It's my aunt's. She's a fan. I found it lying around," you lied poorly.

"Uh-huh," Bucky smirked, and Steve grinned, knowing all the signs fully well.

You cleaned up your hands, washing out the traces of blood here and there. You felt agitated. They were here, the stupidly gorgeous men. Your friends. Your everything. They couldn't possibly understand the volcanic arc stretching your mind right now.

You grabbed a bottle from the neatly stacked row in the cabinet, placed it on the counter, and unscrewed the cap. Sidestepping Bucky, you quickly made your way to the living room. As soon as you sat down, you chugged half the bottle, feeling the cool liquid help clear some of the tension that had been building in your chest.

"What the hell are you two doing here?" you asked, feeling utterly exhausted and emotionally drained.

You heard them approach you as Steve settled beside you and Bucky sat on the wooden coffee table before you. For a split second, you thought it would give away, but the table looked sturdy.

You sighed and refocused on getting your brain to work, but it felt impossible with them so close.

Steve took your left hand into his large, firm grip. He traced his thumb along your wrist, his touch sending waves of warmth flooding through you, and for a moment, your heartbeat stuttered, racing beneath his fingertips. You tried to steady your breath, but it only intensified the sensation.

"What are you doing here, doll?" Bucky asked seriously, and you averted your gaze, trying to pull away your hand from Steve's, but he wouldn't let go.

"Steve," you muttered softly, helplessly, and he reluctantly let go.

"Uh…I…" you started, heart thundering. This was supposed to be your solace, your way out of the whole thing, and here you were being asked to confront. You hated it.

Your head started pounding. You rubbed your fingers to your head.

Bucky stood abruptly. "Alright, sit tight. I'll make you some tea. It'll ease your headache."

"No!" you snapped, your voice rising. "Stop that. Do not make tea."

Bucky froze mid-step, genuinely baffled by your sudden outburst. "Okayyy. No tea," he said slowly, folding his arms. "But I'm not giving you coffee. You'll end up awake all night, and it gives you a stomachache," Bucky argued.

You buried your head in your hands, feeling overwhelmed and helpless. How do you not become hyper-aware of all these little things? How? They never would get it.

Steve leaned closer, still maintaining distance, but his hand caressed your hair, comforting and enraging your senses, "Hey, did you eat anything besides cereal?" he asked, and you looked at him confused.

You couldn't help but scoff internally. How the hell would you know that, Rogers? But you didn't voice your thoughts aloud. Knowing he knew you better.

"Okay, we are not talking until you eat something. Go change, wash up. I'll make you something," he ordered.

With a dejected sigh, you dragged yourself up and headed for the shower.

The shower helped, mostly. It washed away the blood and tiredness, surely, but also washed some of your inhibitions away.

You headed back to the kitchen, where you heard them.

"Slice it, Buck, not Julienne."

"It tastes the same. How does it matter?" Bucky argued.

You couldn't help but chuckle. This was familiar. This felt like home. They were home. And there they were, making sandwiches and looking utterly comfortable, their shoes and jackets discarded. They also looked sinfully hot, those tight undershirts clinging to their muscles, and the agonizing thoughts returned.

"I miss your t-shirt," Steve quipped with a grin, eyeing your plain red t-shirt and leggings as you walked closer. "Again, that's my aunt's. Get over it, Steven." You muttered.

Bucky leaned against the countertop, his intense gaze fixed on yours. You walked up to him slowly.

"Sorry for yelling at you," you told him sincerely. His gaze searched yours, and his insanely pink lips curled into a small smile.

"C'mere," he said, his voice low and warm, pulling you into a hug before you could respond.

You melted into him immediately, feeling the heat of his body against yours, the familiar comfort of his embrace washing over you. That perfect mix of musk and something undeniably Bucky wafted over your senses and calmed the chaos inside your head. You tightened your arms around him, the ache of missing him--of missing them--filling your chest.

You could feel the deep rumble of his chest against your cheek, the sound vibrating through you, sending a warmth that felt grounding and exhilarating. And when he tightened his hold around you, pulling you just a little closer, your breath hitched. You flushed, overwhelmed by the intensity of it.

"'S all good, ok?" he murmured softly, his voice so reassuring it made your heart ache. "Let's eat."

Reluctantly, you pulled away, blinking as you tried to steady yourself, the flood of emotions threatening to spill over.

When you walked towards Steve, he grinned at you, and you leaned your forehead against his large bicep, feeling it flex as he worked. His familiar warmth settled around you.

"I hate it when you don't take care of yourself," Steve said. You stepped away before Steve decided to lecture you more.

You grabbed the plates and started setting them aside, wanting to keep busy to avoid the tension in the room. Your furtive glances toward them didn't go unnoticed. Both Steve and Bucky were quiet as you ate in silence. You hated yourself for not suggesting that you play something on the TV to distract from the discomfiting silence. But you were paralyzed emotionally.

When you tried to clear the plates, Steve gently stopped you. You reluctantly handed him the plates, feeling small in the space between you.

Bucky seemed to notice your unease. "Want to have that tea now?" he asked quietly, his eyes never leaving you. You averted your eyes; instead, you leaned against the wall for support. You nodded in response, trying to pull yourself together but not quite succeeding.

Bucky moved to prepare the tea, and you let yourself stay quiet, not looking at him--at either of them--afraid that if you did, you'd spill everything you'd been trying to hold back.

You felt so pathetic and helpless. Wanting to seek their comfort but feeling that would be unjust.

And you watched Steve walk to you, wiping his hands on the towel before walking closer.

He reached for your hand, his grip warm, and it felt perfectly assuring. You could feel the tension in his fingers, the way he held you as if he already knew the answer to the question he was about to ask.

"Let me ask you something. Did something happen that you're hiding?"

You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat making it difficult to answer.

The intensity of his look only seemed to make it harder. You shook your head slightly, your voice barely audible as you mumbled, "No."

"Did Buck or I hurt you?"

"No!" you said, loudly and firmly.

"Then why?" His voice softened even further.

You stared at him, feeling the truth stuck in your throat, tangled in a way that made speaking impossible. Your eyes drifted, landing on Bucky, who stood just a few feet away, his posture tense, his eyes flickering between you and Steve.

You couldn't bring yourself to do it. You couldn't say it. You'd spent years building something so beautiful with them, something so right. And if you let it out, if you gave voice to the fear and guilt swirling inside you, everything could come crashing down. What if you lost them? Everything between you, the connection, the love, the trust. What if it all fell apart because you were too weak to keep it together?

That thought should have stopped you, should have held you back.

But the tears welled in your eyes despite your best efforts to hide them. You pressed your palms against your temples, trying to stave off the pressure building inside you. Still, the overwhelming rush of emotion was too much.

"Hey, hey…" Steve's voice was soft, and suddenly, his hands were on you, gently pulling your hands away from your face, coaxing your gaze back to him. His eyes, filled with nothing but tenderness, locked onto yours. "It's okay. Whatever it is, you can tell us. We're not going anywhere. You're not going to lose us."

You couldn't stop the tears from falling now.

You had no idea what to say or what to do next. All you knew was that you had avoided them to overcome the feelings, but here you were, confronting them head-on.

"You've been my home, both of you," you whispered, voice trembling as you looked at Steve and then Bucky. They were both silent and looked almost terrified.

"I was scared when I realized that... that..." You couldn't finish the thought. Steve and Bucky's eyes locked on yours, looking like they were waiting for something.

"I'm scared, selfish, messy, and all complicated," you continued, your voice breaking with every syllable. "I'm not strong enough to lose you both…" You sucked in a shaky breath, fighting to keep your composure. "I'm selfish. To want something I don't deserve. And you might just hate me after I tell you."

You sounded so pathetic to your ears. You couldn't look at them anymore. You couldn't face them. Without thinking, you walked away, stumbling to the drawing room, where you collapsed onto the couch, curling in on yourself. You clutched your t-shirt tightly by the sides and let the tears flow freely, everything from guilt to pain to fear pouring out.

You felt Steve and Bucky both hurry towards you. Steve knelt before you, large palms rubbing your thighs to calm you.

"Look at me," Steve said, voice barely above a whisper. "Say it," his commanding tone was merely begging, pleading.

And you obeyed.

"I can't keep this in anymore, Steve. It's suffocating me. I love you both, and I'm so scared."

You said it, sealed your fate.

For a moment, there was nothing. Complete silence.

You could feel Steve's grip on your legs loosen, his hands falling away slowly as if the weight of your confession had stunned him. Then, Bucky's breath hitched from behind you. His presence shifted, the weight beside you on the couch telling you he sat beside you.

You shut your eyes, silently crying.

You did it. You messed up. Didn't you? You felt ashamed. This was the moment you feared the most. They'd never look at you the same way. You'd ruined everything.

"Do you think I'd let just anyone touch my hair?" Bucky asked, his voice low and trembling. You looked up, confused. What did that have to do with what you said?

"What?" You managed hoarsely.

"You," he said, his deep blue eyes locking onto yours. "I let you cut my hair. I hate when anyone touches it but with you... it's different. It's always been different."

"Bucky..." you whispered, but he didn't let you interrupt.

"I loved you the moment you held me close after that nightmare in Wakanda. Do you remember that? I was a mess, and you just… didn't let go. Not until I could breathe again. I broke your finger by mistake at how tight I held you." His voice broke, and he swallowed hard.

"I love Steve. I've always loved him. And then... I loved you, too. It scared the shit out of me, but it's the truth." Bucky sniffled, and continued, "Ever since Thanksgiving, you've been distant, and I was terrified, thinking I'd done something terrible and lost you forever. And it fucking hurts, sweetheart."

Your breath caught in your throat. You stood up, stumbling ungracefully as you stepped away, needing to breathe. Bucky moved behind you, his hands on your arms, steadying you. You let him hold you. He tugged you closer, your back against his strong chest, his arms winding on your stomach, letting you put all your weight onto him, effectively calming you.

Steve stepped forward, holding something small in his hand. Your eyes widened as he held up a familiar notebook.

"Do you remember this?" he asked softly.

You nodded, stunned. That's the tiny notebook you gave to him. Years ago, right after he came out of the ice.

Steve opened the notebook and flicked through the pages. Your breath hitched as you saw it filled with sketches of you, Bucky, and moments you'd shared.

"You told me to fill it with things I wanted to remember," Steve said, his voice warm and full of emotion. "But all I could think about was you. I was so scared to feel love again. I loved Bucky for so long, and then you came into my life, and I... I didn't know how to go about it."

Steve exchanged a brief, meaningful glance with Bucky. His eyes softened as he continued, "But then Bucky returned, and I realized he felt the same. I've never been very religious, doll, but I'd be lying if I said I didn't pray for this every darn day."

Bucky chuckled softly, the sound deep and reassuring. "Believe me, we'd be a mess without you," he said, gently kissing your hair. "I love you," he murmured.

"I love you," Steve echoed, gently kissing your cheek.

You blinked rapidly and your mind was reeling. The world seemed to stop around you. Your heart raced, and your breath caught in your throat as you processed their words. But then, confusion took over.

"I... I don't understand. I can't choose," you stammered, your heart torn between the joy and the overwhelming fear of what this meant.

"You don't have to," Bucky said firmly, lips touching your right ear sensually, sending shivers down your spine. "Steve and I are a package deal. You get him, you get me, and vice versa. Take it or leave it. Actually, scratch that. Just take it."

Your lips parted in disbelief, and looked at Steve. He nodded, looking at you hopefully. You let out a nervous chuckle.

"What did you put in that sandwich? I think I'm high," you mumbled, laughing softly.

Steve smirked, his eyes twinkling joyfully. "Apart from Bucky's horribly chopped tomatoes, nothing you don't like," he teased. He crouched slightly to kiss you softly. Just a barely present touch, but it lit a fire so quickly that you trembled. He tasted perfect, just like him, soft and manly.

Bucky followed suit, twirling you in his arms, lifting you to his level, his kiss more fervent, grounding you. He tasted musky and familiar, spicy and so so him.

You pulled back, wide-eyed, your heart racing.

"Oh, boy," you whispered, a dazed smile across your face.

The distant sound of fireworks startled you, and the three of you turned toward the window. Faint remnants of flickering lights lit up the sky. The neighbors must have set the fireworks on the lake.

"Happy New Year," Steve said softly, his hand finding yours and Bucky's.

"Happy New Year," Bucky echoed, his metal arm wrapping around your waist.

Happy New Year, indeed!

And tomorrow, you'd text your aunt out of courtesy, letting her know you have visitors over, while keeping all the lewd details to yourself. Then, you'd go to the vet to check on the kitten, which the three of you decide to adopt and name her Alpine. A purrfect New Year, indeed!

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