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#HE HAS HIS WINTER COAT STILL. AND IS THICC AS FUCK.
evera6234 · 4 years
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Gotham’s Salty WIP: Chapter I
RATING: T (Teen for cursing and stuff, this may change)
SUMMARY: 
Basically, the typical Daminette with a bit of lime and spice. Borderline crack fic bc i cant without humor. 
Marinette Dupain-Cheng goes to Gotham whilst carrying three years worth of emotional baggage, what she does with it, we don't know. Does she lug it around? Probably. Does she kick it off a skyscraper? Not probable, but maybe. Does she use it to drop kick an unsuspecting liar. Most definitely.                ~~~> EDITED BY OLLIETHETURTLE ON AO3
Transferred from AO3. 
Lemme know if ya wanna be tagged
OK. Umm.. First fic on AO3. K. We doin this, and we starting with this god awful piece of trash. Yes. Life. Fuck. 
Things ur signing up for:
Big boi Mari & Chloe Friendship Good Vibes TM
My ass shitting on Adrien bc im a salty bitch (and if u aint about that life, its ok. U can leave bc im not interested in fighting with people. No offence or disrespect to adrien stans but yea)
And Adrien stalker moments
Lila and Alya salt (plz see “im a salty bitch”)
Shitty update schedule, if any. I’m counting on yall to harass me to write.
Marinette & Jason “sibling-esque” relationship bc we all need that
An obscene amount of cursing (as you can already tell)
The class will not be  “Our singular communal brain-cell is fucking dead, help.” levels of dumb, but still “I have the IQ of a wet potato sack” levels of dumb.
Eventual negation of canon bc we live that life
“Espresso with a dash of Depresso” Moments TM
I'm originally an MLB fan. So do what you will with that info.
The good old “Ozmav AU” but with some lime and spice
As slow burn as I can
Mental Health stuff and the repercussions of having multiple identities treated completely differently
And the crown jewel of this entire fic… Auntie Harley and Ivy.
And….. sorry…. Ppl will kinda be OOC but im trying my very best. 
Tbh I have no idea where this going rn but... i mean… it going somewhere (specifically hell) because everything does. Leave ideas plz, don’t kill me. Just bully me. 
So yea. Lemme know what u want and if I want to, I might just squeeze it into the fic (if it fit ofc, im not just gonna add random 50 year time-lapses). I'll try my best ;)))) (<-- my quadruple chin)
~
Chloe’s head hangs heavy on Mari’s shoulder as the pressurised air surrounding them vibrates with the sounds… of well… a plane. Chloe had a tough couple weeks; late night combat practises with the new team (LB, Hornet, Viperion and Ryuuko) has obviously taken a toll on her partner. Both wrapped in a thick velvet blanket that Chloe remembered to pack (thank kwami) sharing a pair of headphones, both were lulled into a peaceful slumber.
Alya laughs as Lila tips her small glass of diet coke (that a flight attendant painstakingly poured for her) on a sleeping Marinette’s side of Chloe’s blanket, effectively waking her up. “Oopsies! Sorry Marinette! You see, the cabin air has really been worsening my arthritis. I didn’t mean it! I swear! Cross my heart!” apologized Lila with fake concern as Alya giggles beside her. 
Marinette, literally seeing Lila’s crossed figures behind her back says “At least Chloe is still sleeping, she needs the rest.” Alya, Lila and her empty cup saunter beck to their seats nearby. 
~
Mari and her class finally land in Gotham’s cold December night. Freshly hushed into a private shuttle, the class are driven to their hotel. It is late: around 3:30 AM. With heavy eyelids the class gazed out the bus’s windows in awe. The merging view of traffic and Christmas lights chase them to their residence. No one really remembers or knows what happened that night. Just the feeling of falling, be it into a white fluffy hotel comforter or into the crisp Gotham air. 
~
“Oh! My! Gosh!!!” hears Marinette as Lila on the bus to Wayne Enterprise. “I feel so. At. Home!” In Marinette’s tired ears, there were more exclamation marks. 
“Of course… The only thing that can inhabit Gotham alleyways are cockroaches and villains,” Chloe grumbles beneath her breath, looking out the window.
“What have I ever done to you Chloe?” Lila cries, “I understand why Marinette bullies me, she is a jealous and vile girl. But I thought you, Chloe, want to be a better person, not a bully like that bitch, Marinette!”
“How dare you. How dare you. HOW DARE YOU!” Chloe yells as the recent words loop in her mind, 
“Not gonna call your daddy, huh?” Alya taunts. 
Chloe, with tears in her eyes begins, but is quickly interrupted by Marinette, “No she will not. She doesn’t need to. Chloe grew a lot over the last couple months, I’m so proud of her. She doesn’t need your bitch-ass approval.” Marinette grasps Chloe’s hand which previously wrapped itself around the fabric of Chloe’s heavy caramel winter coat.
“Quiet on the bus!”, A yell came from the front.
“But, Mr. Bus Driver… Marinette is being a…”
“Shut it! Y’all want me to kamikaze this shit into a building? I’m guessing y’all value your lives so shut it!” 
“Ms.Guardian, can I please have a cookie?” Pollen softly asks from the inside of Chloe’s giant white faux leather handbag.
“Shh… Pollen! Now’s not the time!!!” stresses Tikki.
“Please Ms. Guardian!!! I’m so so so hungry. This bag isn’t very warm and it’s taking all my energy to keep warm. A lil blubber wouldn’t hurt…. please!!”.
“Of course Pollen,” quietly respond Mari with a grin, “Here you go.” She pulls out a couple cookies from a Tupperware and hands them to Pollen. “Please share them with Tikki,” whispers Marinette into the bag. 
Marinette and Chloe then hears two tiny “thank you”s followed by the sound that can only be described increasingly aggressive chomping. Both girls giggle quietly.
~
“Welcome to Gotham,” says an unenthusiastic man at the front desk. “Congratulations, you are…” He checks his computer. “On time? Interesting.”
“Yes, we are aware,” grumbles Mrs. Bustier, already done with the man’s attitude.
“Okay so before the tour starts I’m doing to need the student who set-up this field trip to sign a couple forms and stuff. Here ya go.” The man pushed a thicc pile of paper into the teachers hand. 
“Oooh! That would be me sir!” Lila chirped, intercepting the papers before skipping back to her posse of her’s. A few seconds after beginning to fill out paperwork Lila cries “Ouch! My wrist! My arthritis! Can someone help me filling out all these form.” 
“I’ll fill them out, I’m only going to need your signatures,” offered Max.
“Thank you Max, you are so sweet!” Lila complements. 
“Of course, your arthritis was badly affected by the altitude yesterday, you shouldn’t be staining your wrist so early!” Max blushed. 
“Maribug, you gonna to say something?” 
“Nah, just watch. Entertainment without a Netflix membership.”
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pennylanefics · 3 years
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Beautiful - Isaiah Jesus
a/n: i wrote this the other night when i was feeling down about myself. so this is based on my own insecurities. to note, it is technically for a thicker/mid-size/larger reader, bc i am a thicc bitch lol
*gif not mine
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•••
“Hello beautiful,” Isaiah’s soft voice rings out in the room. You were laying in bed, tears coating your cheeks from the thoughts in your head. When you don’t say a word, Isaiah begins to worry.
“Love?” He kneels beside your side of the bed, where you are facing. But quickly, you turn around so he doesn’t see you.
“(Y/N), what the hell is wrong with you?!” He suddenly snaps, making a new set of tears fall down your cheeks and onto your pillow. Hearing your strangled sob, Isaiah immediately apologizes and takes a seat on the bed.
“Please talk to me,” he whispers, wanting to reach out and caress you but deciding against it.
“No,” you whimper into the pillow.
“Love, I want to help you. Please, tell me what’s wrong?” After a few minutes of sobbing, you sit up and wipe your tears. Isaiah does so as well, reaching up to catch any that you missed.
“I hate how I look,” you say, your voice strained and worn out from crying. Your response confuses Isaiah, he has no idea why you would say such a thing.
“What? What makes you say that?” You keep your eyes down on your hands, knowing he would be glaring at you in disbelief.
“Because I’m ugly. I’m not a beautiful as Ada, and I never will be and-“
“Stop right now. Come here.” Isaiah tugs you to stand up and brings you over to the floor length mirror on the wall. You stand in his arms, facing him, hiding your face in his neck.
“For now, this is fine. What do you not like about yourself?”
“Everything.” He sighs and rubs your back, expecting this to take some time.
“Start with your head. What do you not like? Specifics, love.”
“My face is fat, I basically have two chins. I have spots and marks all over and it’s blotchy and gross. My hair is always hard to take care of and barely ever cooperates when I try to make it look nice.” Isaiah spins you around so you’re facing the mirror and forces you to open your eyes. When you finally do, you notice his own filled with sadness and tears too.
“I’m going to tell you what I see, yeah? I see a beautiful, full, healthy face. Your hair is perfect no matter what. I swear, you could put twigs and leaves in it and you would still look so gorgeous. Spots and marks are normal, I have them myself. And you don’t think I’m ugly, do you?” Giggling softly, you shake your head and stare into his eyes through the mirror.
“Go onto your shoulders and torso. What don’t you like?” Your hands try to tug at his, which were currently resting on your hips.
“My breasts are unproportional to my body, my hips are big, I have marks on my stomach and sides and breasts. My stomach is quite big and makes me look like I’m pregnant. I have hair on my belly and chest as well.” He nods as he fights to keep his hands in place.
“Starting with your hips, your hips are phenomenal. They fit my hands so well and are a good thing to hold onto while I fuck you from behind.” Your jaw drops, making Isaiah laugh loudly.
“As much as I want to say I’m joking, it’s true. I love them, even more with the marks. As for your stomach, I can get you pregnant so you actually look like it?” Once more, you giggle and smack his cheek playfully.
“Now that time I was teasing. But seriously, who cares what your stomach looks like? You’re healthy, you’re still growing, and everyone’s body grows at a different rate. The marks make you so much more beautiful and hair grows everywhere. Just because it’s darker in some places doesn’t make it ugly or nasty. I will still kiss your stomach and tits no matter what.” He then dramatically rolls his head back.
“Oh, your breasts. I almost forgot. Who the fuck cares if they’re unproportional. They are there for nursing your children. But I also love them for more. I mean, they fit in my hands perfectly, I absolutely love marking them up, sucking on them. They’re perfect.”
You were now in tears, though a different kind of tears. They were happy, not sad. You couldn’t believe Isaiah saw you in a completely different light than you saw yourself.
“Anything else?” He wonders.
“My thighs-”
“No, don’t even start! Your thighs are my favorite part on you. They’re thick and lovely, and there’s nothing wrong with thick thighs. I can lay my head on them comfortably, they’re so soft and squishy and I love running my hands all over them, any time of the day, holding them while you ride me, caressing them when we’re lying in bed together. I don’t want to hear a single word about what you don’t like about them.”
“But-“
“No. You’ve said enough hurtful things to yourself and I don’t want to hear anything else.” He turns you around and cradles your cheek in one of his hands.
“You are absolutely gorgeous, perfect, beautiful, and amazing. I hate that you see yourself this way because I find you the complete opposite. I love you so damn much and I will do anything in my power to get you to see how beautiful you really are.” You stared at him, noticing a truthfulness in his eyes, a look you’ve never seen before.
“I love you Isaiah,” you whisper, leaning up to kiss him deeply. You both sigh into the kiss as he pulls you back over to the bed.
“Want me to show you how much I love you?” He mumbles against your lips. You know what he means, as he’s used that term many times before.
“Can we just cuddle for tonight? I don’t feel like it,” you respond. Isaiah nods and stands to get undressed. When he’s ready, he slides into bed, under the covers and pulls you into his chest. He holds you close, knowing you need the comfort more than anything right now, and presses a few kisses to your forehead.
“I hope you don’t feel like this about yourself for too long, love. You deserve to feel beautiful because you are.”
“But Ada is so much more than I am, and-”
“Why do you keep bringing up Ada? You are two different people, beautiful in your own ways. Quit comparing yourself to her, love.”
“I can’t help it. Every guy lusts after her and thinks she’s some sort of goddess. It’s hard being around the Shelby’s and feeling like I’m nothing compared to her.”
“You are just as gorgeous as her, if not more, in my opinion. How about we take a few days away from the Shelby’s till you’re back to yourself, yeah? We can go to my dad’s winter cottage, spend a few nights there alone. What do you say?” You smile up at your boyfriend and respond with a kiss.
“That sounds great, love. Even though it’s not winter, can we still go?”
“Of course. That’s just where he stays if it’s snowing and he wants to get away and spend time alone.”
“Then yes.”
“Good. Because I really want to take my time and show you how fucking stunning you are.”
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ddaenggtan · 4 years
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as we go along | myj [m]
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pairing | min yoonji x reader
wc | 10.4k
genre | NSFW; Fluff, Smut, a dash of Angst bc why not
Four years ago, the beautiful stunning attractive frustrating Min Yoonji came into your life. Ever since, it’s been a competition between the two of you to win the HOA’s Holiday Decorating Contest. The fiery looks she gives you paired with the pointed insults throw you off your game every year, but not this time. This holiday season, you’re determines to win; and along the way you might just find that Yoonji’s been trying to win something else.
;OR the queer hallmark movie of your dreams.
warnings/tags | idiots to lovers, enemies to lovers, Awkward Gays, Idiot/Oblivious Gays, very strong language i think this MC curses almost as much as i do, oral (female receiving) x2, fingering, wall sex, theres like....a hint of body worship in that MC loves eating pussy bc lbr. what else could possibly compare to that. uhh side jinkook, as well as some side namyoonmin and some vhope if u squint real hard. hwasa and chungha are a lesbian power couple. OH The Min Twins aka Yoongi and Yoonji are siblings uwu
a/n |  this is 100% every single lesbian fantasy of my dreams because i just really love the ladeez and also min yoonji needs more characterization outside of 'stone cold butch domme' so uh. here ya go. i love ladeez so this is v self indulgent and also Super Gay. 
this is part of the 25 Days of Christmas: A BTS Anthology 
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[Today]
Red bleeds into green and glitters magnificently on the snow. Lights and tinsel are strewn all over the yard of your parents’ house, creating a rather pretty collage of sparkles and swirls against the white backdrop. You wish you could appreciate it more. 
As it stands, however, you’ve been outside for hours untangling the decorative strands so that you can hang them on the gutters, eaves, and railings of the two story house behind you. Your mother had insisted you work inside but you know better. The cats - Mochi and Pablo - are your favorite in the world and you love them dearly, but one of their favorite things in the world has always been holiday decorations. The number of times you’ve had to stop them from chewing on lights of knocking the tree down is frankly ridiculous. So instead you’re unravelling everything so you can get started on what you’re sure is going to be your best year yet.
You’ve always loved decorating, of course, especially for the holidays. Getting up before dawn to go pick out one of the giant fir trees to stand in their living room, picking out new figurines for the Winter Village that sits on the mantle, helping your parents put ornaments on the tree. You love holiday decorating nearly as much as you love the feeling of victory in your chest. 
“If you had an organizer that wouldn’t take nearly as long,” says a voice from behind you. It’s melodic and deceptively sweet in spite of the lower register, and you don’t turn. You don’t want to give her the satisfaction. You don’t even respond, instead settling your gloved hands on your hips and eyeing the front porch so you can decide where to start. 
“Really? Ignoring me now? Tsk tsk, and here I thought you were better than being a sore loser.”
Continuing on your mission to pretend she isn’t there, you heft several yards of lights over your shoulder and head toward the ladder you have against the porch roof. You may as well start up high. 
“Interesting choice,” Yoonji mutters as she watches you. The hair on the back of your neck bristles, and you take a deep breath to calm and center yourself. “I’d heard that icicle lights were a bit last season, but I’m excited for this vintage look you’re going for. If you need more, let me know. I think the ones I used last year are still in the garage.”
“What do you want, Yoonji?” You huff, turning over your shoulder to glare at her. She looks entirely too at home in your yard with a steaming thermos in her mittened hands. 
“Just wanted to say hi. Wasn’t sure you were coming this year, considering how late you got in.”
“My flight was delayed for weather reasons,” you snap. 
“Ah. That’s why I always drive up instead.” There’s a pregnant pause that’s filled only with the huffs of your breath as you focus on the lights in front of you. “Oh, but you never got your license, did you? Ah, you should call me next year, we can carpool.”
“I got my license this past year,” You bite out. She doesn’t need to know that it took a few tries. It’s not your fault it makes you anxious to be behind the wheel. “Seriously. I have work to do.”
“Obviously,” Yoonji mutters. You flash her a glare and she just smiles back. “Just wanted to see how you were, if you needed any…” She pauses, eyes trailing over the explosion of decorations on your lawn with thinly veiled judgement in her eyes. “Help.”
“If I needed your help, I wouldn’t be winning this year’s contest.”
“By the looks of it, you aren’t winning this year’s contest anyway.” Her mutter doesn’t escape your notice. But that’s the real problem you have with Min Yoonji.
She’s sarcastic and blunt and kind of intimidatingly hot, but you can handle that. You are a strong, independent queer woman in the modern age and you are not about to let some random lesbian intimidate you, no matter how much you kind of wanted to fuck her in the past. Yoonji is not a problem for you. 
It’s the way she’s constantly putting you down, giving you backhanded compliments, and generally acting like she’s better than you. While winning your parents’ neighborhood’s annual Holiday Decorating Contest that their local Homeowner’s Association runs. Everyone gets a kick out of the friendly competition, the winners get a gift certificate to a Korean BBQ place, and a good time is had by all. 
Except you. 
Because you’ve made it your mission to win - to beat the current reigning champion of the past three years who stands on your lawn sipping what smells like hot cocoa and silently judging your decor choices like she didn’t put a massive inflatable pumpkin on the roof for Halloween. 
She watches you the entire time you hang up the lights, carefully attaching them to the edge of the awning covering the front porch. It isn’t until your father pulls into the driveway and you’re done with the upper half completely - about to start the railing - and descending the ladder one careful step at a time that she speaks again. 
“Those are hanging too low,” She tells you. She doesn’t seem to mind when you ignore her in favor of wrapping lights around the stair banister. 
“Hey there, Yoonji!” Your father calls as he starts to unload the groceries. “What brings you to this part of town?” They both laugh at the joke and you force back a gag. 
“Just hanging out,” She calls back. “Making sure your daughter doesn’t break her neck for some silly competition. You need help with those?” Your dad waves her off. 
“I’m not that old, but thank you. Besides, it looks like you’re needed elsewhere.” He gestures with one bag-laden hand, and both you and Yoonji turn. 
A large SUV pulls into the driveway across the street; the passenger door swings open before the vehicle even stops, and a girl - woman, really - launches herself out of the car. She’s across the street in record time, nearly tackling Yoonji to the snow with the force of her hug. Both look excited to see each other, a rare smile on Yoonji’s face that makes you burn with something that doesn’t feel quite like the usual rage. 
The two are talking rapidly in your front lawn, too harried and chaotic for you to make out much of anything besides the fact that they missed each other. They look comfortable with each other in a way you’ve never been and you force yourself to remember that you don’t care . Even as you eye the way the newcomer’s hand sits just that little bit too low on Yoonji’s back. 
The sounds of car doors closing and snow crunching draws your attention and you’re shocked to see another gorgeous girl making her way over. She looks as excited as the first, yet more subdued about it. 
Likely because they’re on a lawn that decidedly does not belong to them, but you could be wrong there. 
Both of the women are absolutely gorgeous, though, easily model material. The first has artfully styled dark hair that falls in perfect waves down her shoulders, and is delightfully curvy in all the places the world loves. Her cheekbones are to die for, makeup flawless, and you resist the urge to pluck at your own outfit, chosen for warmth over style. 
The second woman is no different; not quite as thicc, as Jimin would say, but the figure suits her, as does the straight platinum hair that hangs down to her lower back. It’s stark against the black of her expensive-looking coat, and it only adds to the energy she carries that draws you in even as you wish it wouldn’t. 
“Oh, how rude of me! These are my neighbors,” Yoonji says after a minute. You don’t miss the way she hesitates saying your name, or the almost predatory smiles the other two women get. 
“So you’re the one,” The dark-haired one says. You don’t get a chance to question it before the blonde cuts her off. 
“I’m Chungha,” She says with a friendly smile. “And this is Hyejin.”
“My friends call me Hwasa, though,” The brunette adds. “We hate to tear her away but it’s been ages since we’ve seen our girl.”
“You saw me like two weeks ago,” Yoonji mutters. You’re too caught off-guard by anyone calling Yoonji their ‘girl’ to respond, but you don’t miss the way her cheeks tinge pink from something that isn’t the cold. 
“So we’re gonna steal her away now,” Hwasa continues, oblivious. You don’t protest, letting your father chat amicably while they say their goodbyes and you look between the girls. 
Hwasa’s hand is still lingering on Yoonji’s lower back, something neither of them seem bothered by. That’s something that friends do, though, right? Jimin squeezes your ass constantly and the two of you definitely aren’t together. 
You hear your name and a question but you can’t seem to really focus beyond a mumbled agreement to whatever you were asked. The way Chungha’s eyes glance over her companions feels like something more, but you can never really be sure. Not in this day and age.
But when they head back across the road to Yoonji’s house, Hwasa doesn’t hesitate to lace their fingers together. Yoonji lets her do it, and the glimpse of the grin and the flushed cheeks you see make your heart clench. 
Paired with the way Chungha eyes the pair as she follows behind - a decidedly more than friendly gaze - and every alarm in your brain is going off. She looks ready to jump them both the second they get in the door. 
“I’m impressed,” Your father says. 
“I’m not done yet,” You tell him, turning back to the decorations sprawled across the lawn. “I’ve still got to-”
“No, no,” He interrupts. “Not the decorations. That you’re finally making strides to be nicer to Yoonji.” You stare blankly at him, not understanding what part of your attitude towards her said anything about being nicer. 
And anyway, why shouldn’t she be nicer to you?
“The party…?” You blink at his words, looking in all respects like a startled rabbit. “The annual Min family holiday party? That they just invited you to? The one that you said you would attend?”
“I’m sorry, I did what. ”
“It just happened, sweetheart. I was standing right here for the entire thing.”
“No,” You tell him firmly. “No, because I would remember telling Min fucking Yoonji that I was going to her stupid holiday party.”
Your father just shakes his head. “Then perhaps we ought to get you a doctor’s appointment, sweetie, because I watched it all happen not five seconds ago.” He pats your shoulder, doing his best to show his solidarity for your sudden idiocy, and makes his way inside. 
You spin to watch him go, all the potential protests and complaints clogging together in your throat and leaving you silent. He gets to the bottom step before you’re storming angrily back to your decorations, because whatever , you’ll go to the stupid party. 
Yoonji can have her dumb holiday party with those overhyped cookies your father always raves about. She can have her caroling and her sing-a-long that your mother adores. She can even have her two super hot model girlfriends, because you’re a modern woman, and sometimes that’s what a relationship is. Whatever. It’s her prerogative. You don’t care. It is not going to affect you, or your decorating, at all. 
You scream a little when the icicle lights you so carefully hung knock against your father’s head on his way inside. 
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[Three Years Ago]
“You look like you’re struggling,” a voice says behind you. 
They aren’t wrong, either. You’re balanced precariously atop the porch roof your parents’ new hours, hanging garland off the edges so your dad doesn’t have to do it himself. 
You turn to see who’s talking to you - especially since you don’t actually know anyone, this being your first visit to the neighborhood - and very nearly have to hold on to the edge beside you to stop yourself from falling off. 
The man that stands on your parents’ front walkway is easily the most beautiful you’ve seen - a casual elegance to his stance that you’ve not seen outside of celebrities. His leather jacket looks warm and comfortable while remaining stylish, and the all-black underneath suits him while highlighting the lithe form. All of it is perfectly complemented by the mop of jet-black hair tucked under a knitted beanie, and you can’t help but wonder what kind of neighborhood your parents have moved to, when models are just walking around the streets. 
“Uh…” You would kick yourself for sudden ineloquence if you thought you could without falling straight on your ass. The guy bites back and obvious smile, ducking his head for a moment to do so. 
“I haven’t seen you around before,” He calls as he looks back up at you. “Did you move in recently?”
“No, I don’t live here.” He raises a brow and you huff. “It’s my parents’ place. I’m just doing their decorating for them.” The guy nods and starts to say something else, but he’s cut off before he can. 
“Jimin-ah, what are you doing?” You look back to the garland as someone else walks up, some girl based on the quick glimpse you get while tugging on a strand that doesn’t want to untangle. You give them some semblance of privacy as the guy - Jimin - relays to her everything you’ve said so far. It only strikes you as a little odd that he’s being so detailed; she could be a jealous girlfriend, for all you know. 
“Oh,” the girl says, tone as dry as the dead leaves piled in the corner of the yard, “Is this supposed to beat me somehow?”
“Yoonji,” Jimin scolds under his breath. 
“Sorry,” You say, standing up to your full height. It’s a considerable distance considering you’re still on the porch roof. “But what is that supposed to mean? Is there some kind of competition I don’t know about?”
“Oh,” Yoonji repeats, surprise evident in her voice this time as she eyes you. You take the opportunity to do the same, and you’re glad the nip in the air already turned your cheeks pink because fuck. 
Yoonji’s god damn gorgeous. She’s slightly taller than the average girl, even in the winter boots she’s wearing, but she wears the height well; her shoulders are straight and her chin has a natural upward tilt to it, like she’s used to looking down at people in more ways than one. She’s not dressed fancy - just thick leggings and an oversized sweater - but she looks like she belongs in a commercial or something. Her hair is similar to Jimin’s - pitch black and soft - but hers is glossier, more like a cat’s coat; her cheeks are pink from the cold, her lips are slightly parted and invite too many thoughts about if they’re as soft as they look, Even in such casual circumstances, she’s radiant, even as she says-
“That explains a lot.”
It takes a second longer than you’d like to admit for your brain to resume function, but when it does, you huff with indignation. 
“Excuse me?” You hiss. “What, are my decor choices not good enough for whatever this competition is?”
“No,” Yoonji says slowly, cocking a brow, and you see red - and it isn’t the lights from the house across the street. You don’t even let her continue before you’re defending yourself.
“Well I’m sorry that not all of us can decorate like they just stepped out of...of…Better Homes And Gardens, or some shit like that. Some of us focus more on making sure we like our decorations and that they actually mean something instead of just doing things for the aesthetic .”
Yoonji mutters something under her breath but you can’t make it out; it’s lost among the breeze that kicks up and the soft sound of laughing that Jimin is trying desperately to muffle. You huff a little and return to your mission of dragging the garland up on top of the roof, a new determination filling your chest. 
“Shouldn’t your boyfriend be doing this?” Yoonji asks, crossing her arms over her chest and cocking a brow. You freeze. You can hear Jimin’s quiet inhale, and when you look up, he’s got his lips puffed out like that meme of that guy doing the duckface. You let your hand rest on your hips and give this girl the best glare you can - which you have to admit is quite powerful when you need it to be. 
Like now, when this random super hot girl is judging you for being single and also assuming you’re interested in men. The nerve of her. 
“I don’t have a boyfriend,” You tell her firmly. She frowns a little, and you wish the expression wasn’t so cute. 
“Why not?” 
You scoff. “ Because,” You tell her firmly, “Not only am I happy by myself and don’t need someone else to be complete, I happen to prefer women. You may be happy with a member of the opposite sex,” You wave at where she and Jimin stand close together and return to trying to pull up the piece of garland that’s probably stuck on something, “But I tend to lean the other way.”
Yoonji just arches a perfect brow at you, but she at least doesn’t bust out laughing like Jimin does. 
“Oh man,” He says, wiping tears from his eyes as he stumbles forward, “Imagine looking at us and thinking we’re straight. Oh my god, imagine, can you believe-”
“So why don’t you have a girlfriend doing this then?” Yoonji asks. Her cheeks are a little redder, but you’re pretty sure it’s just from the cold. “Wouldn’t it be better?”
“Because I’m a strong,” You heave another string of garland up, “Independent,” heave, “Woman!” You give one last tug on the garland and it flies loose, sending you landing back on the flat of your ass atop the porch roof. It doesn’t hurt too bad other than the fact that you can see a smile playing on Yoonji’s lips and your pride has already taken a few hits. 
“Well then,” Yoonji says, patting Jimin’s arm and stepping back, “We’ll stop distracting you, Miss Independent.” She and Jimin walk across the street, and you pretend not to notice the way she looks back every so often. 
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[Today]
“No, it needs to be taller.”
“Sweetheart if it’s any taller, it won’t fit in the house.”
You send your mother a frustrated glance and shake your head. “It will, it just needs to be the right height and shape.”
“Why can’t we just get a fake tree? They’re so much easier to move and put together, wouldn’t that be better?”
“No,” You hiss, scandalized. “Real trees are better overall for the environment, not to mention how you can’t manufacture the smell of pine trees that come with them that set the entire atmosphere. Plus this nursery uses the profits to plant more trees both here and in areas that suffer with deforestation. It’s for a good cause.”
“And that’s why we had to get here at five in the morning?” Your mother asks sarcastically. 
“Yes,” You reply firmly, “Because otherwise all the good trees will be gone and we’ll be forced to choose from the leftovers.” Your mother mumbles something else under her breath, but you don’t hear it. You’re distracted because there it is. The perfect tree.
You’re two steps away from your perfect tree - tall, evenly spaced, full branches, well balanced, with the perfect shade of evergreen - when you hear her. 
“It’s over here,” Yoonji’s voice echoes. “I need the perfect tree, and it’s the best one I’ve found in years.”
You ignore the way your mother lights up and shush her when she tries to call out to Yoonji. You listen closer; your nemesis is still talking, something about needing a tree for someone - which, who leaves tree shopping to the last minute? The only reason you’re here is that you got in late because of the weather - but her voice is definitely getting closer. 
Panicking, you look at your tree. If Yoonji sees it, it’s definitely over. It’s perfect, there’s no way she’ll want any other, and what Yoonji wants, she gets. 
The only real explanation for what happens next is that you’re running on four hours’ sleep and Yoonji tends to make you a little stupid. 
“Get the other side,” You whisper to your mom. She stares at you and doesn’t move. “Hurry up, before they get here!”
Your mother watches for a few seconds as you wrap your arms around the tree, getting pricked in the face with pine needles as you do, and start to tug. It’s a heavy tree, and it’s only just started to shift when the voices get closer. 
“Seriously?!” You exclaim in a harried whisper to your mom. “Not even a push?!”
“You’re trying to steal a tree,” Your mother says. “From a nursery that gives to charity. I’m not helping with that.”
“I’m gonna pay for it later!” Your mother sighs and starts pushing halfheartedly on the other side of the tree.   
“Shit, no, I meant-” Your words are cut off by a grunt as you manage to catch the tree before it falls entirely. It’s heavy against your shoulder, and of course that’s when Yoonji turns the corner, followed by the broadest man you’ve ever had the pleasure of seeing. Both stop in their tracks at the sight of you. 
“Hey Seokjin.” You say, faking a laugh. “How are you? Haven’t seen you this year. Business good?”
“Yeah,” He says, cocking a brow, “When people don’t try to run off with our trees.”
“Who? Me? I would never!” The tree starts digging into your shoulder and your legs tremble. “I just thought I’d load it up for you, y’know, save you the trouble.”
“Oh did you?” There’s amusement in Seokjin’s voice as he fiddles with his ring. “You know our policy, you have to pay before loading.”
You start to stammer out some bullshit about him being busy but you’re only halfway through the excuse when Yoonji says your name.
“It’s alright,” the woman says with a bored voice. “She was loading it up for me. That’s the tree I was coming to show you anyway.”
The weight finally overtakes you, and you crumble under it. You manage to twist so that nothing important is trapped under the trunk, but you get a faceful of needles for your efforts. 
“Maybe you should do it, though, Jin,” Yoonji says. “It looks a little much for the poor dear.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Seokjin huffs. He pulls the tree off of you with what looks like little effort, hefting it over his shoulder so the base drags the ground. “Where are you parked, Yoonji?”
“Load it onto their car,” Yoonji responds. Both you and your mother stare at her in shock. “Consider it an early Christmas present.”
“Oh, well isn’t that sweet of you,” Your mother coos. She points the way to Seokjin and the two head off, chatting amicably as they go. 
You narrow your eyes at Yoonji where she stands, not even offering to help you up from the snow where you still lay.
“What’s wrong with it?” You ask. All she does is quirk a brow. “The tree. Why are you giving it to me? You wouldn’t unless there was something wrong with it. So what is it? Termites? Leaking too much sap? What?”
Yoonji shrugs. “You wanted it,” She says simply. Your blood boils, and she steps back like she doesn’t even notice. 
“You aren’t even going to help me up?” You call as she starts to walk away.
“Good try, Miss Independent,” She calls back. “I think Jungkook’s still in the office if you need him.”
You half-scream a growl as you flop your head back into the snow. A pout forms as you watch the sky start to color with the sunrise. 
You’re going to have to throw away your perfect tree.
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[Two Years Ago]
It’s the day of the contest. You’re confident in your decor choices this year, even if you couldn’t get every single thing you had in mind, you decide as you wander the neighborhood to scope out the competition. Last year you went simple and got second place, and you’ve switched it up this year. All out with the best decorations possible. 
You’re going to win. Losing isn’t an option, not again. Not when you were beat by her. 
It doesn’t matter, you remind yourself as you turn the corner onto your parents’ street. Your decorations are as good as they can be. 
Your mood sours a little when you see a figure in the yard across from yours, but the soft beanie and oversized hoodie cheer you up once you notice them. 
“Yoongi!” You call with a smile. The man turns and gives you a gummy grin. “I didn’t know you were in town!”
“Yeah, we got in late last night. Kinda crashed once we did. Then someone dragged us all out to the store early this morning.” He rolls his eyes and you laugh. 
“Well the house looks good. Not as good as mine, obviously,” You tease, “But good.”
“Yeah, you might win this year. Yoonji’s got some good competition.”
You sniffle a little, doing your best to contain your distaste for his twin. 
The Min twins, nearly identical save for the fact that they aren’t the same gender, are easily the best and worst things about the neighborhood. Worst because of that pompous priss Yoonji, obviously. 
Best because Min Yoongi is one of the sweetest people you’ve ever known even if he is a bit shy. You met him last year, when he’d carried in an obscene amount of groceries for your mother and you’d almost mistaken him for his sister. You’d made him coffee to say thanks, the two of you talked, and you’ve been friends ever since. 
“No Jimin?” You ask him. He gestures vaguely to the roof, where you can see a small blue hat bopping around. “Ah. I take it you aren’t finished yet, then.”
“Do you know any other reason my sister would have my boyfriend on the roof?” You share a grin with him as you both watch a strand of lights fly off somewhere. “Apparently she needed to make some last minute adjustments. That’s why she dragged us all out to the store, to hunt down some stuff for her.”
“Oh, did you happen to see one of those big dancing snowmen? The one that plays music, you can control it all from your phone? I looked everywhere and couldn’t find one, it’s the one thing I was missing. Had to use an inflatable yeti instead.” Yoongi frowns. 
“Huh, how weird. That’s what we were-”
“I got it all ready, it just needs to be plugged in.”
Yoonji strides out from the house - looking as good as ever in some plaid pants, how dare she - and stops dead when she looks up and sees you. 
“What are you doing here?” She snaps, and you scoff. 
“Visiting a friend,” You respond with a nod towards Yoongi. You take a glance at the phone in her hand, then up to where you can see Jimin standing up a snowman. “Did you seriously steal my idea?!”
“What? No.”
“Really. Because I distinctly remember telling Jungkook about this yesterday while I was picking up my tree and you were right beside him talking to Seokjin. I was even going to put it on the roof so everyone could watch it dance to Pentatonix covers.”
“Like I would listen when you talk,” Yoonji says. Yoongi sighs but you can barely hear it over the flood of rage. 
“Y’know what? Get fucked,” You tell her as you storm out of their yard and back to your parents’ house. 
“I guess you won’t be coming to the holiday party then?” She calls over the road. You send her a rather vulgar hand gesture in return that you hope your parents don’t see. By the time you get inside, the snowman is playing a Mariah Carey Christmas song and you kind of want to set it on fire. 
You do not win the competition that year. 
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[Today]
Maybe you should have listened to your parents when they said not to drive today. Probably you should have taken the big ass truck that your father keeps in the garage specifically for when the weather is bad, because it’s got that fancy four wheel drive and traction control and all sorts of stuff meant to keep people safe in the middle of floods and monsoons and blizzards. You definitely should have remembered to charge your phone before you left the house.
Especially considering that your car isn’t great in the snow now falling gently from the sky to land on your hood, mixing with the smoke pouring out from under it. 
You’re lucky you managed to drift to the side of the road and get your hazard lights on, but that’s where said luck runs out. Your phone is dead, it’s several miles back to the house, even further than that to town, and the temperature is already dropping into dangerous territory. 
You’ve been sitting here for three hours, though, tucked inside the residual warmth of your car with spare blankets wrapped around you as you watched night fall. You’re not sure what else you can do. There aren’t any wild animals around here, or anything like that, but it’s definitely too dangerous to trek back to the house. 
“I should’ve just walked back earlier,” You groan as you bundle the blankets closer. “At least it was warmer then. Stupid car, stupid car, stupid me , didn’t charge your stupid phone, how dumb am I.”
Your tirade against yourself continues for several minutes and includes a few very crafty curses that would make your mother gasp. You’re in the middle of another when lights shine into your mirrors, nearly blinding you. 
The lights slow and come to a stop behind your car. A door shuts and you scramble to exit, ready to get on your knees and beg whoever it is to give you a ride to literally anywhere that has heat. 
It takes a second too long for you recognize the shiny purple jeep and the elegant black peacoat backlit by the headlights, and by the time you do, she’s already got an angry snarl on her face. 
“What the fuck are you doing out here?” She demands. You shiver in response and glare at her. 
“Oh, just hanging out, thought I’d take a little nap beside the road in the freezing cold, the usual y’know,” You bite back. She rolls her eyes and starts back towards her jeep. You frown, watching her, and she stops with one foot inside and her hand on the door. 
“What are you waiting for?” She asks. You shrug, and she huffs. “Get in the fucking car, I’m taking you home before you turn into an icicle.” You don’t move and her frown deepens. “Fine, but if you die out here, I’m not the one that’s going to tell your parents it was because you were too stubborn to accept a ride.”
Guilt gnaws at you, and with a frustrated huff, you stomp your way over to the passenger side of her jeep and climb inside. 
She’s careful as she drives, you notice. Long fingers wrapped tight around the wheel, jaw tensed so hard it could be stone, and one arm leaned against the window after she’s finished turning the heat up as high it will go. 
It’s not even been five minutes when she tosses a thick, fleece-lined blanket at you. You look at her, ready to be pissed off, and she cuts you off before you can complain. 
“Your teeth are chattering so loud that I can’t hear myself think. Try not to get hypothermia before we get there, okay?” You huff a disbelieving laugh but curl into the warmth of the blanket anyway. It feels almost too-warm, like when you pull clothes out of the dryer, but it’s a comfort against your freezing skin. 
“Why are you even here? You aren’t heading back from town, you’re not heading to town. Do you just drive around looking for lost girls?” 
“No,” She says carefully, hand tightening around the wheel. It’s all she says for a full minute before she sighs. “Your parents got worried.”
“What?! ”
“They said you went to town to pick up some salt for the sidewalk and drive, and that it had been hours, and that they hadn’t heard from you again even though you took your phone. They were scared that something had happened, so I…”
Your sarcastic response dies on your tongue when you look at her. Really look. 
Her shoulders are tense and set, in a way you haven’t seen before. Her brows are creased, and the pretty lips you refuse to acknowledge are set in a thin line and turned down at the corners. There’s something fizzling in the air between the two of you, something new and unknown.
“...Were you worried about me?” You ask quietly. She shoots you a look and then laughs, a second too late with not enough amusement. 
“Drink that,” She says, gesturing to a thermos. “It’s coffee, it’ll help you warm up a little.” You take the thermos, thoroughly enjoying the warmth it provides your hands, and take a sip. You don’t know why, but you’re surprised when it’s the exact way you like it. You shoot her a thoughtful look, wondering just how else she might surprise you. 
The rest of the ride is quiet, only the lull of the engine and the tires. Neither of you talk much; perhaps because she’s too angry, but you’re too distracted by your own thoughts to say much. 
There’s no way, right? The two of you hate each other, you have since you met. It tints all your interactions, colors every single conversation where either of you are even mentioned, it’s one of the basic facts of the universe. 
So why, as Yoonji pulls into your parent’s driveway and smiles at where they stand watching from the window, do you have a feeling like maybe you’re wrong?
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[One Year Ago]
“Really? Inflatables?”
You scowl and turn, already prepared. There stands Yoonji, arms crossed. The weather is fairly mild for the season, and she’s taking advantage of that. High waisted shorts, an off-the-shoulder top, lace-up boots, leather jacket, she looks like every rebellious lesbian you’ve ever dreamt about, and it only makes you hate her more. 
“Yes, inflatables. Because some of us like a little fun. Besides, you stole my dancing snowman last year, and I wanted something you aren’t going to rip off.”
“I didn’t steal your-”
“Whatever,” You interrupt, not wanting to even bother to listen. “Don’t you have someone else to bother?”
She starts to say something else, but the slam of the front door cuts her off. You turn and grin, waving. 
“Tae! C’mon, put it over here!” 
Taehyung smiles and makes his way over, inflatable deer in his hands. Yoonji’s silent as he gets there and sets the animal where you direct. When he’s finished he turns to you, boxy smile and all, to make sure he’s good, and glances at Yoonji. 
“Oh, you didn’t say you had a friend over,” He whines. “Now I’m being rude. Hi, I’m Kim Taehyung.”
Yoonji doesn’t answer, merely eyes with distaste the hand he’s got extended. 
“Right. Well then, I’m gonna go get the fawn, alright? Be right back.” He smiles at you, and you watch as he jogs back into the house.
“I thought you only brought Namjoon with you this year.” You turn at Yoonji’s words. 
“No, Tae came as well. It’s a good thing, too, because Joon is utterly useless now since he met Yoongi and Jimin. Little punks stole my best friend.” You’re only mostly kidding. You’re happy for Namjoon - he’s been somewhat lonely these days, and now he’s got not one but two handsome men vying for his affection. 
It does reinforce your own loneliness, though. 
“I thought you liked girls.” You look back at Yoonji and notice she’s got a small pout on her face. It’s cute. 
“I do like girls.”
“Then why is Taehyung here?” The way she says his name is full of spite, and it makes you laugh. 
“Sorry, I didn’t realize that I had to get your permission when I want to bring my friends and loved ones up to visit my parents for the holidays.” You adjust the inflatable deer, posing it so that it looks like it’s glaring at Yoonji’s house in anger. 
Taehyung comes back out before Yoonji can say anything. He’s got his jacket off now, and he does look good in the simple white shirt and the headband that makes his hair look even fluffier than usual. You just really can’t focus on anything but the inflatable fawn he’s got tucked under one arm and the matching rabbit tucked under the other. 
Yoonji’s eyes narrow ever so slightly, and you roll your eyes. 
“You need another deer,” She spits before she turns around and stomps back to her house. Taehyung shoots you a look. 
“I take it that’s Yoonji, then,” He says with a laugh. You make a puking sound and he tuts at you. “You’re supposed to be nice. That is not nice.”
“Yeah, well, she didn’t steal your dancing snowman, did she?”
Across the street, you can see Yoonji fuming as she stands on the porch, talking to Yoongi about something or other. They both look over and while your first instinct is to turn around like you haven’t been watching them, you resist. Instead, you give Yoongi a bright wave. He doesn’t return it but his frown lessens slightly, though that could be because Jimin stumbles, laughing, out of your parents’ house with Namjoon not far behind him. 
Both of them have hearts in their eyes, and it only gets worse when they look at Yoongi. 
“That’s disgusting,” Taehyung says with a wrinkle of his nose. “Eugh, they’re so couple-y and gross. Remind me not to come next year if Namjoon’s here.”
“Oh no,” You tell him with a grin as you wrap him in a hug. He’s warm and solid against you, as he always is, and you thoroughly enjoy it. “If I have to struggle, you do too.”
“Fine,” He whines dramatically. “But I’m bringing Hobi so he has to suffer, too.” You laugh and set him to work organizing the inflatable animals. There are eyes on your back the entire time, but you refuse to turn around and give Yoonji the satisfaction. 
Especially once you realize that you do need another deer to make it look balanced and perfect.
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[Today]
The holiday party is well underway by the time you arrive at Yoonji’s, however reluctantly you do so. Your mother and father disappear almost immediately, sucked into conversations with people they’ve known for years now; Tae and Hobi are tucked into a corner, nursing glasses of cider while they look at the rather extensive Winter Village display on the Mins mantle; Namjoon has been here for hours already, and is no doubt locked away in Yoongi’s room with the man himself, and Jimin, and you choose to believe that they’re having some philosophical discussion and not doing anything else. 
You think you catch a glimpse of Jungkook amidst the people from the neighborhood, but by the time you get to where he was, there’s no sign of him, or the broad-shouldered man he’s usually with. Abandoned in the kitchen, you pour yourself some cider and spike it with a hint of rum, just to get you through the night. 
“Where’s your boyfriend?” A voice says. 
When you turn, you find Hwasa perched on the countertop, Chungha leaning back between her legs. Both are watching you curiously, and both look absolutely fantastic in figure-hugging dresses and tights and heeled boots. They look like they just stepped off a runway, but the look in their eyes feels more like a panther than a model. 
“What boyfriend?” You ask eventually. 
“Tall, great chest, soft hair,” Hwasa says. When you just stare at her, she smiles a little. “Boxy smile.”
“Oh, Tae?” You laugh a little. “He isn’t my boyfriend. I’m not even interested in him like that, he’s just my best friend.” The two women share a look and Chungha kisses her cheek before heading out of the room. Hwasa eyes you and you have the distinct feeling you’re being judged. 
You thought you looked okay when you picked out the simple but nicer outfit; black sweater, maroon skirt, tall black boots. It’s classy but casual. You’re sure of it. 
At least you were. 
“So tell me about this thing with Yoonji,” Hwasa eventually says. You nearly choke on your cider. 
“I mean...there’s not much to tell. We’ve hated each other ever since we met four years ago.”
“Oh?” Something lights up in her eyes that you don’t particularly like. 
“Look, no offense to you or your girlfriend, Yoonji’s just...kinda mean for my tastes. I guess some people are into that.”
“Elaborate.” Her tone leaves no room for argument, and you find yourself explaining before you can stop. You tell her nearly everything, about all the shit Yoonji’s done to you, and by the time you’re finished, she’s actually smiling.
“Like...I’m sure you love her and all, otherwise you wouldn’t be dating her, but-”
“What? ” She nearly falls off the counter, she’s laughing so hard, and when you start to help steady her, she just waves you off. “No, sweetie, I’m dating Chungha, not Yoonji.”
“I thought you were dating both of them? Did you all break up?”
“Oh my god , she wasn’t kidding,” Hwasa says breathlessly, still fighting back giggles. “Holy shit, this explains so much. Ha, oh my god, no, we never were dating Yoonji, she’s just our best friend. Like you and that Taehyung guy?”
“Oh.” You feel foolish; it makes sense, friends can be just as physically close as romantic partners. You and Taehyung are proof enough of that. “I...just assumed…”
“I know, but you’re definitely wrong. You drink more cider, stew on that, maybe rethink things from another perspective, I’ve got to tell Chungha about this, it’s too good.” Hwasa hops off the counter with ease and disappears out the door before you can ask her to explain what she means about other perspectives. You can hear giggles as they slowly drown in the chatter of the party and the soft carols playing over the speakers. 
You stay in the kitchen for a while, nursing your cider and thinking. If Yoonji doesn’t have two model-hot girlfriends, then could you have been onto something in the jeep that night? You’ve hated her for so long, and assumed that she hates you in return, but if you were wrong about the girlfriends, then maybe you’re wrong about that, too. 
Something enters your vision and you look up, nearly spitting out your drink as you do. 
Yoonji stands in front of you, in a slinky green velvet dress that she keeps tugging the bottom of. It doesn’t look like anything she usually wears, down to the floral lace tights and the wedge heels that make her even taller than she already is, and she looks slightly uncomfortable if the burn in her cheeks is any indication. 
The worst part is that she looks good. Like, good good. It suits her, even if it isn’t her usual style, and for once you can’t deny the attraction swirling within your stomach. 
“What are you wearing?” She asks angrily, glaring down at your clothes like they kicked her dog - whom you have not seen tonight, which is a travesty, because you adore Holly. A cough echoes from somewhere behind the two of you, and Yoonji wrinkles her nose. “I mean...I like...your outfit.”
You quirk a brow at her and set your cider down on the counter nearby. “Really? Because it looks like you want to tear it off and then set it on fire.” Something complicated happens with her expression and a spark ignites in your mind. 
“Are you sick?” She asks. Her face does something else complicated as a groan echoes from nearby, and something painful twists in your stomach. You really didn’t think you looked that bad. “I mean, after the other day. With the snow. And the cold. Are you sick?”
“Is...this your way of telling me I look ill?” You ask her. She frowns. “Because if wanted me to leave your party, all you had to do was say that, you don’t have to insult me.” You head toward the door of the kitchen and there’s a scrambling that sounds much too loud for just her friends. 
So your friends are also eavesdropping. Fantastic. Now everyone knows she’s insulted you. Just what you needed tonight. 
Her hand catches your wrist as you’re about to leave the kitchen. “I didn’t mean it like that,” She mumbles, not making eye contact. “I just...wanted to make sure you were feeling okay. It was really cold that night, and you were out there for a long time.” 
“So, what, you suddenly care? Why? Because you don’t want to win by default or something?”
“No, because I-” She cuts herself off with a groan, and you’re glad there are so many people around, because it seems like everyone’s distracted with something else. They’re too busy to notice this absolutely disastrous conversation. 
“Hey look,” Taehyung says, appearing from nowhere and pulling roughly on Yoonji’s arm until she’s standing beside you in the doorway. “Mistletoe! How random! Guess you have to kiss!”
“That’s a stupid tradition,” Yoonji spits, and you’re inclined to agree with her. “Forcing people to kiss just because of some plant? How is that okay? Besides, it’s got nothing to do with the actual myth behind it, and-” She sounds like she could go on forever, but you cut her off. 
“And it’s not like we want to kiss anyway.” Her grip on your wrist slackens, and you turn to look at her. Uncertainty fills you as you look at her expression, because the only word that comes to mind is crestfallen. “Right?”
“I...I mean…” Taehyung disappears as Yoonji searches for words, and you just know he’s hanging out somewhere nearby to watch it all happen. 
“Because we’re nemeses.” You say slowly. “We hate each other.”
“Do we?” Yoonji asks quietly, threading her fingers through yours. “Do you?”
“Don’t you? ” You ask her. “You’ve been nothing but rude to me since we met. You’ve insulted me, and stolen my decorating ideas, and-”
“No,” She says quickly. “No, I never meant any of it like that, you just never gave me a chance to explain. You’re...you’re so pretty, and I always get flustered around pretty people, and I say the wrong things.”
“You told me I wasn’t as good if I didn’t have a significant other the first time we met.”
“I was trying to figure out if you were interested in women, and when you said you were, I just...panicked, because I figured you had someone, because you’re…” She gives a wave to your general being. 
“You stole my dancing snowman.”
“I did not! I heard someone talking about a dancing snowman at the tree nursery, and I didn’t realize it was you, and I thought, since I couldn’t stop thinking about you, I’d get a dancing snowman that would play this cheesy playlist thing I made for you. I didn’t know you were looking for it, and I didn’t steal your idea. Not on purpose, anyway.”
“Okay, well...last year you were so rude! And you said you wouldn’t listen when I talked!”
“I thought…” She trails off, looking ashamed. “I thought you were dating Taehyung, and I got jealous. But the listening comment wasn’t like that! It’s because I always zone out because I like to listen to you talk, because your voice is so pretty, but I never hear what you actually say, and also you just...are really pretty. So I get distracted.”
“I…” You’re rather speechless; your entire world has shifted on its axis. “I thought you hated me.”
“Never.” Yoonji insists. “I just don’t know how to talk to pretty girls.”
“You hang out with Hwasa. And Chungha.”
“Yeah, and?” Her brows furrow. “What’s your point?” If you could, you would keysmash at her, but as it stands, you just gape. 
“Uh, they’re literally model gorgeous?”
“Oh, are they?” She looks down at where your fingers are still entwined with hers. “I hadn’t noticed.”
You blink at her, and she looks up at you. There’s a faint smile playing on her lips, and something bright in her eyes that you haven’t seen before. 
“I’m sorry,” You say, shaking your head. “I just still don’t-”
“Will you shut up?” Yoonji asks, free hand coming to gently glide across your cheek. “And let me kiss you?” Your jaw shuts with a snap and you nod. 
Her lips are soft against your own, and your breath catches in your throat as you return the kiss. Her hand moves to grip your jaw, tilting your head ever so slightly so the two of you fit together that little bit better, and your hands come to rest on her hips. 
Electricity sparks through you to her. She pulls back just a little and you’re distracted by the way her tongue darts out to wet her lips. 
“This might be moving a little fast, since we hated each other an hour ago-”
“You hated me an hour ago,” She corrects. 
“But I would be very, very happy taking this to a more private area so I can express to you just how apologetic I am that I thought you hated me.” You tear your gaze from her lips to look at her face. Her eyes are dark, pupils blown out at the mere thought. 
“Upstairs,” She growls, already pushing you in the direction of the staircase. You’re both speeding through the crowd of people as fast as you can without being obvious, and you have to help her every few feet because she’s wobbly in her heels, but by the time you make it up the stairs and into her room, you’re both desperate. 
Her mouth meets yours with a fire behind it that you’ve never felt before, and you hardly even get the door closed before she pushes you back against it. Your tongue darts along the seam of her lips and she grants you entrance, and you could moan at just the taste of her if you were just a little weaker. 
“Do you know how many times I’ve thought about this?” She whispers, moving to nip at your neck. Her hands are under your sweater and you don’t even remember them getting there, but you can’t complain as they move to cup your breasts and tweak your nipples through your bra. “Can you even imagine how many times I’ve dreamt of touching you? Tasting you? Hearing you moan?” 
She bites, hard and rough, and you can’t stop the moan that escapes you. How she possibly knows that you like that is something you don’t have the energy to ponder, nor the will to question. 
“Please,” You breathe, hands tangling in her hair as she sucks a mark into the skin of your throat. She’s slotted between your thighs and your hips are rutting against hers ever so slightly, desperate for some friction. You know you’ve already soaked through your panties, which is a feat considering all she’s done is play with your nipples a little and kiss you like you’ve never been kissed. 
���What is it, angel?” Her voice is deeper than usual, roughened by the desire coursing through your veins and hers, and it only makes you wetter. “What would you like me to do?”
“Anything,” You plead. “Please, just touch me.” 
“Anything?” Yoonji mutters. She chuckles, low and raspy and so unbearably attractive that you want to scream. You almost do scream, from frustration, when she pulls her hands away from your nipples, but she drops to her knees and you forgive her. 
Yoonji kisses up your thighs, from the edge of your boots all the way to where the hem of your skirt hits mid-thigh, and her hands are warm as they slide underneath. She doesn’t stop kissing you, not even as she lifts the fabric of your skirt and nips at the crease where your thighs meet your hips. Still, she’s so far away from where you need her, that you can’t help your whine. 
“Patience, angel,” She whispers as she glides one finger along your fabric-covered lips. Your hips rut forward on instinct, and she laughs a little. 
“You stole my dancing snowman, you could at least be quick about this,” You mutter. 
“What’s the fun in being rushed?” She leans forward to mouth at your pussy through your underwear and your legs tremble slightly. She’s gentle as her hands slide your underwear down to pool around your ankles, and even more gentle as they glide back up to rest on your thighs. “But I’ll be nice this time. Besides, I’ve been dreaming of what this pussy tastes like for years.”
Anything else you might say to her is cut off with a moan as her tongue starts to tease at your clit. One of your hands comes to rest on the back of her hair before you even realize you’ve moved, and she takes that as all the encouragement she needs. 
Yoonji eats pussy like it’s the last meal she’ll ever have, and you’re in absolute awe. The way her tongue moves against you is absolute bliss, no matter where it is; she teases at your entrance, sliding the very tip of her tongue inside to gather your wetness before she runs the flat of it up to your clit, where she circles and sucks mercilessly before moving back down to thrust it in and out and in and out relentlessly. She coaxes an orgasm out of you faster than anyone else ever has, and even as your writhing against the door with her head under your skirt, she doesn’t stop. 
Instead, she slides one long finger inside of you and keeps it there. She doesn’t move it, doesn’t even allow it to twitch, but it’s there and you can feel it as she wraps her lips around your clit and sucks, making your clench around her. She moans into your pussy, too, the entire time she’s at work between your legs, and it only turns you on more when you glance down to see her hand between her legs. 
“Yoonji, please, I want, please, I wanna taste you too, please,” You beg, tugging gently on her hair until she pulls back. Her chin is covered in your cum and the sight is so unbelievably unerotic that you could probably come just from that. 
“Take this off,” She growls, pulling on your skirt as she stands. You do as she says without hesitation, more than willing to get naked if it means getting your mouth on her, and by the time your boots are in the corner with the rest of your clothes, she’s just as naked as you are. 
And god, she’s beautiful. 
Your lips meet hers again as you push her towards the bed, and you can taste yourself on her tongue as it slides against yours. The two of you tumble onto the mattress and you situate yourself between her thighs. It isn’t until you’ve got her legs spread wide and your licking and sucking at her nipples that you register that her face is flushed with something new. 
“What is it?” You ask, panting, as you detach from her - beautiful, wonderful, adorable, perfect - tits. “Do you not want me to? I don’t have to, I just would really like to, it’s up to you.”
“No, it’s not that, I’ve just never…” She trails off, looking embarrassed, and realization smacks you in the face. 
“No one has ever gone down on you before?” You ask in disbelief. She shakes her head. 
“I’ve always been the one to do so, all the other girls have been kind of...well. I’m usually the dominant one, so…”
“Yoonji, sweetheart,” You say seriously, pressing a kiss to her cheek with each word. “Will you allow to me to eat you out? Because seriously, those other girls are trash, and I would absolutely cherish the experience if it’s something you want.”
Her face turns even more pink and she nods. You press a quick kiss to her lips and gently spread her thighs so you have better access. You mimic her actions from earlier, pressing kisses to her thighs and the crease of her hips. When you finally get a taste of her, you moan. 
She tastes like absolute fucking bliss, you decide as you glide your tongue through her folds. You could live off of nothing but the taste for her until the end of time itself, and the way she moves is amazing. Little jerks and thrusts, and her fingers tangle in your hair to push you closer even as her hips pull away slightly. 
Your tongue rubs circles around her clit, flicking and licking and coaxing her closer and closer to her high. You dip down to fuck your tongue into her for a second or two, and the way her back arches is art in motion. You reach one hand up to tweak one of her nipples while your other arm remains wrapped around her hip like a steel bar, keeping her in place even as she grinds against your mouth. 
You remember how it felt earlier when she wrapped her lips around your clit, so you mimic the action. Her bud fits perfectly between your lips, and when you suck on it, she tenses. Everything stops for a second, and you’re afraid maybe you ruined it, but then her whole body jerks, and she presses you hard against her. You lap up her essence as it comes, eager and more than willing, and when she finally stops spasming, you pull yourself away with a grin. 
“Holy shit,” She mutters, and you laugh. 
“I can’t believe no one’s ever eaten you out before,” You sigh, one hand sliding along her waist to massage her breasts. “Does that mean no one’s ever fucked you before either?”
“I mean…” You stop, staring at her with wide eyes. “I told you, I’m usually the dominant one, so most people don’t really...return the favor.”
“Can I please fuck you?” You ask in a rush. “Please, I promise I’ll be gentle.” She huffs a little, and you think it’s amused but you can’t be sure, because she’s spreading her legs again and your focus is elsewhere. 
“Yeah, angel, you can fuck me.”
You lower yourself to kiss her, lingering and deep, and you don’t miss the moan she gives as she tastes herself on your tongue. You wait until she’s thoroughly distracted by the way your mouths move, then glide your fingers over her. 
Her clit is still sensitive, based on the way she jumps as you ghost your fingers over it, so you avoid that. You don’t want to overwhelm her. She groans as you slide a single single finger inside her, and you moan. 
Her walls are softer than the velvet of her dress, and warm around you. She’s tight, too, so incredibly tight that you aren’t sure you’ll be able to fit another inside her. She moans as you slide your finger out and then back in, gathering more of her wetness as you do. 
You’re careful as you fuck her, gentle and slow, and you think you could get addicted to it. Her hips move in time with your hand, gaining speed as you do. “Fuck, angel, it’s so good,” She whimpers. You smile. 
“Let me know if it gets too much, okay?” She nods, and you start to slide a second finger in. Yoonji winces, just a little, so you slow until her hips rock against your hand. 
“More,” She breathes. “Please, more.”
“As you wish,” You tell her. You still are gentle as you thrust into her, feeling her walls contract around you. It’s heaven, absolute perfection, and you tell her so as she grips onto the sheets. 
You latch your mouth onto her nipple as you continue fucking her, biting and sucking as your fingers curl. 
“I need, ah, please, I need more, I need, holy fuck, to come, I need to come,” She moans desperately. You grin and curl your fingers more, sliding them against her walls. You finally find what you’re looking for, that small spongey spot that has her convulsing around you. 
“That’s right, baby,” You coo, “Come on, I know you want to.”
Her hands are in a death grip on your shoulders, and they only get tighter as you press harder against that spot inside her. She comes with a cry that you muffle with your own mouth, her body shaking as she lets go. 
You slide your fingers out when she’s relaxed a little more, licking the taste of her off as she pants. 
“Holy shit,” She breathes. You grin, peppering kisses along her stomach, up her chest, along her throat and over her cheeks. “Can we do that every day?”
“I dunno,” You tease. “Are you going to steal my dancing snowman again?”
She rolls her eyes and shoves at your shoulder, and you laugh. 
“I’m just saying, you’re supposed to be nice to the people you like.”
“I’m bad at that, though,” She mutters. “I always just...say the wrong thing. I’m more of a do-er.”
“I’m still caught up on how I was supposed to know you liked me based on the things you did.”
“Really?” She huffs, glaring at you playfully. “I went tree shopping at five in the morning for you.”
“Yeah,” You say softly, grinning. “You did.”
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25 Days of Christmas: A BTS Christmas Anthology 
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psyched2b · 4 years
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💚 I’m a 23 year old grad student studying Veterinary Biomedical Science. I’m a bit awkward and have social anxiety, but once I’m comfortable I am quite the sass bucket. Currently trying to cover myself in tattoos, but being a broke graduate student puts a halt to that. My main love in life is training dogs; including flyball, herding and Search and Rescue. All of my reservations dissipate when I’m training my dogs. 💚
JFC. Finally got this done. I AM SO FUCKING SORRY IT TOOK A YEAR
BUT….I think you’ll like this. Also for anyone else reading this….it’s more like a story, so feel free to enjoy :)
I Ship You With: BUCKY BARNES
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The first time you meet, you’re an awkward turtle. Sam is the one to introduce you two because Sam has worked/volunteered with you in the past with training exercises for search and rescue. You barely make eye contact with the Winter Soldier and just mumble through your hellos, your chest tight with anxiety, face burning hot in embarrassment. You can’t help yourself. You even stutter when saying your name - YOUR OWN NAMEThough you don’t know, Bucky is intrigued by you. Surely you’re not the same person Sam talks about. The one who is passionate and full of sass. He just assumes that you’re shy and can empathize with that. But it’s also like a breath of fresh air for him. A nice change of scenery. Ever since becoming an official Avenger ( and is Captain America’s best friend) people would do anything - ANYTHING- to get his attention. (He doesn’t even mention it, especially not to Sam, but he’s still traumatized from the time women’s used (!) underwear came in through the mail for him to “enjoy”. He gets a little green thinking about it.)“Well, I have to get going. Have this huge assignment due by midnight that I need to review before submitting,” you say as you gather your things to go. Bucky wasn’t ready for you to leave, wanting to know more about you. “You’re in school? What are you studying?”Your (color) eyes flick to meet his steel blue ones. “Science,” is your cryptic response and Sam lets out a heartfelt laugh. “Guess that’s true,” Sam chortled. You give a small smile and roll your eyes. “Will I be seeing you this Saturday?”Bucky was confused. What was this Saturday?
Sam nodded in affirmation. “Of course,” he replied, slinging a heavier-than-you-would-think arm over the Winter Soldier’s shoulder. “And I’m bringing this beefcake with me.”
“Beefcake!” Bucky was mock-appalled. “I’ll have you know that name belongs to Steve Fucking Rogers. I am… able-bodied…”Sam let out a loud snort. “Hahaha. Says the man missing an arm.”Before Bucky could retort, you let out a peal of giggles that had his heart-stopping and spoke, “I don’t know. I think a more apt term would be Thicc-k-k.” You looked down at your watch and blanched. “Sorry boys, but I really got to get going.”And with that, you were gone. The next time you met was at Central Park. Sam had volunteered both himself and Bucky to help with a Search and Rescue training. Upon their arrival, Bucky was taken-away with your stunning smile. You were crouched low to the ground, petting a handsome Golden Retriever and speaking animatedly to him. Surprisingly, the dog seemed just as invested in your conversation, his dark chocolate eyes on you, tongue rolled out of his mouth and panting happily. “Oh, you’re such a good boy,” you gushed, Bucky finally able to hear you as they walked up, “You’re going to show these boys who’s the greatest seeker! My bets on you!”
You looked up when Bucky and Sam approached and offered them a small(er) smile. “Hey! Great to see y’all contributing to something good for once,” she teased, hugging Sam. She pulled back and looked to Bucky, hesitate, and offered her hand. He couldn’t help but secretly be disappointed. “Just trying to do our Civic Duty, ma’am,” Sam responded pompously with an easy smile. “Mhm,” she hummed,  pursing her lips. “That, or you’re here so you can cozy up to Amber Foster and get her number.” She gave him an unimpressed look. “Are you going to continue to be Mr. Chicken-Shit or are you going to man up and do what needs to be done?”Sam huffed, “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” and then, “Welp, I’m just going to let you guys get more aquatinted. Duty calls!” He then took off, heading for a beautiful blond woman who was setting up a snack table.“Hmph.” You gave a small smirk, making eye contact with Bucky. “Guess we know where his loyalties lie.” Bucky shoved his hands into his jacket and nodded, a faux solemn look taking over his features. “Good thing I’ve gotten over my abandonment issues, otherwise this would be awkward,” he muttered quietly, not meaning for you to hear…not really. “What?” you ask, giving him a questioning look. Bucky blinked and kept a neutral expression. “What?”You look at him like he’s crazy before shaking your head and bringing back a small smile. “Okay… anyway. Do you know what you’re doing here today?”
The dog at your feet barked, not wanting to be forgotten, and nudge your hand with his snout. “Nope,” Bucky responded, lips popping on the ‘p’. “But I am eager to meet this handsome fella.” He crouched down and held out his right hand for the pup to sniff. Your smile brightened. “This is Gerald. He’s going to be my partner today and his job is to find you.”
Bucky looked up at her puzzled. She continued, kneeling next to Gerald and ran a hand through his thick coat. “This is a Search and Rescue exercise. Today, we play hide and seek. We bring out people who the dogs aren’t familiar with, such as yourself, and it’s their job to find you.”
“You do realize who I am, don’t you?” he asked, unsure if he was going to pose too much of a challenge. He was an ex-deadly assassin after all and he was a master at not being found. Just ask America’s-ass, Steve. “Are you trying to tell me that you think you’re better than Gerald?” you questioned. “Because if that’s what you think, you have another thing coming for ya.”He smirked. “Sounds like the perfect opportunity to place a friendly wager then.”You blinked, unsure. “Erm….what?”Bucky nods. “Yes. I think that if Gerald isn’t able to find me, that you owe me a date.”“A date?” you echoed, slightly dazed by where this conversation is going. You shook your head. “Um…okay…but what if Gerald finds you?”“Then I owe you a date.”“Is….is this your way of asking me out…because… erm… I’m like an awkward turtle and um…. school.”He let out a small laugh, trying not to feel too self-conscious at the situation. He hadn’t asked a woman out since the 1940s and it was slightly terrifying. “You know what,” you say, “Yes. I accept this wager of yours. But know this... Gerald. Will. Win.”“Game on.”You were sworn to take the outcome of that day to your grave… but you were definitely a proud dog-parent. Having seen Bucky become a (willing?) participant in your world put things into a new light. Of course, you knew his back story. Everyone did. And then he became a part of the Avengers, elevating him to what would seem like a ‘god-like’ status in the eyes of the public. He was seen as being above reproach. But you knew better. You knew that he was a wholesome, caring, easy-going, fun (and possibly a little awkward) man. He was super charming and soon, you found yourself falling. 
Though you’re busy with grad school and training, whatever free time you do have, you dedicate it to Bucky Barnes. He became your PersonAnd you his. You could go to him with anything and everything and he was always an excellent listening ear; whether you just need to vent or need help with whatever. It was beautiful.
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geminimoonbeamx · 6 years
Text
A Little Extra Paddin' for the Winter
A/N: I’ve been really focused on writing my series’ lately and I really just miss writing fun, fluffy, smutty, one shots! Like these just warm my heart, they keep me inspired and keep my love for writing these fics alive. PLUS CAN WE JUST TAKE A MOMENT TO TALK ABOUT OUR LORD AND SAVIOR, THICC BUCKY?!
Word Count: 2k
Warnings: Cursing. NSFW, Oral sex(female receiving) body worship, pregnancy hormones gone wild
Summary: Bucky has been gaining some baby weight of his own and his fiancé, Y/N’s raging hormones cant handle it.
❄️❄️❄️
You can’t deny it, you fucking love your fiancée’s body.
Fiancé, you hear that? Fucking fiancé. Like future husband. You still get a little giddy at the word. Maybe it was the pregnancy hormones, but just the thought of it could make your eyes prick. You shake it off, it was definitely the hormones. They had been driving you and everyone around you a little bit up the wall. From the cravings to the mood swings, this pregnancy thing really wasn’t the walk in the park that they made it out to be.
Like this horniness! No one had warned you that just the sight of Bucky would turn you into mush. It had been like this for weeks too, you were really starting to ware the both of you out. You just couldn’t help it, those tight sweaters and Henley’s he wore clung to his tree trunk like core- to his broad shoulders. The cozy fabric was just too inviting your itching fingers had a mind of their own.
Like now, you were supposed to be putting on clothes; you and Buck and a few other members of the team had decided to go and look at the Christmas lights at Rockefeller Center- but your eyes were heavily trained on the flex of his shoulders as he shrugged into a dense pullover. Fuck. It was memorizing. You’d heard Tony’s teasing of Bucky’s “baby weight” gain, but honestly, you don’t think you’d ever been more attracted to him. Not that you hadn’t always thought he was the most gorgeous man you’d ever met, but this? This was something else.
You huff and collapse back onto the bed, abandoning your attempt to put on your knee high boots. It shouldn’t be this easy for him to make you want to jump his bones.
“Aw, you okay over there, baby doll?” Bucky eyes you from his place near the closet and you shrug, your lips pursed as you muttered an I guess. If heavily pregnant and being insanely horny for absolutely no reason were considered okay things, then yeah. You were great.
Bucky would have known something was wrong, even if you hadn’t given that grumble of a response. He’d been a little…neurotic(not crazy, he’d argue) along the duration of your pregnancy. The last seven months had been filled with him watching your almost every move, of overprotectiveness that bordered on ridiculousness. Bucky was doting and so, so good to you. You and the little life you were growing inside of you had become the center of his universe. He orbited around you, hated being too far away from you. It fucked up his gravitational pull, when you weren’t in eyesight.
Your staring up at the ceiling, half pouting, half craving beignets. You wondered if Tony would let you take the private jet on a quick little day trip to New Orleans…you knew if you asked Sam he’d definitely pilot…
You feel a pair of large hands on your doubled up legging clad thighs and you raise your head, over your round tummy, to lock eyes with Bucky’s azure ones.
He’s kneeling on the floor, one of your boots in hand. “Are you feeling alright? We don’t have to go tonight if you don’t want to”
The soft concern in his brooklynite voice makes you melt. Like it always does. “No, I want to go! Remember last year, when Steve almost busted his ass on that ice by that hot dog stand”
He chuckles at the memory as he begins to slide your boot up your curvy calf, wiggling it until it sat on your chubby thigh right, perfectly. You sigh at the feel of his finger tips.
“I told him to wear a pair of shoes with'a little traction this time. He wouldn’t want to go bustin’ up his pretty mug in front of Sharon”
You cant help but grin at the thought of it. At how red the Cap'n’s face would be.
Bucky’s so smooth and delicate with his actions, you never really knew something as simple as him putting your boots on be so intimate. How did he manage to make everything so erotic? You lean on your arms to watch him, your bottom lip pulled between your teeth. You love the appearance of his cute little double chin. He claps a hand to each thigh when he’s got your boots adjusted right.
“Alright, Sweets. Anything else you need?”
It’s such an innocent well intentioned question, but where he just so happened to be placed at the moment had your mind drifting again.
“Well…while your down there” You waggle your arching brows at him suggestively and he barks out a laugh at you, shaking his head a little.
Hadn’t he just made you cum an hour or so ago? He’d toyed with your clit under your robe while you were putting on your makeup. You had been so insatiable lately, it was one of the few times in his life he was grateful for the serum that ran through his veins. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to keep up with you if he wasn’t enhanced.
You had the stamina of a rabbit.
But he didn’t mind. No, he’d take care of his girl, no matter what you needed from him. He’d give it to you.
“Yeah?” He asks coyly, his fingers are already hooking in both your leggings and panties. “You need your pretty pussy eaten?”
“Please baby” You whine as he drags them down your thighs, just enough that your core is bare for him, you spread your legs as much as you can around the constricting material.
He doesn’t tease you, doesn’t make you wait. He licks a fat stripe up the crease of your labia, his tongue pressing through at your clit. You collapse, your back pressing into the mattress as he begins to lap directly at your bundle of nerves, you know he’s going to get you off within minutes. Seconds even. You card your fingers through his dark locks adoringly, before gripping handfuls of them. Pressing him closer. What you’ve always loved about getting eaten out by Bucky was the fact that he didn’t do it half assed. He used his whole face, his chin dipping into your heat. His nose nudging your mound as he worked you over. Your a mess of desperate whimpers and sobs as the wet sound ‘smacking’ sound of him binging on you fills the air.
He doesn’t even have to use his fingers, he makes you climax with one final pro tug on your clit. He does this thing where he manages to use his lips, teeth and tongue at once and you scream your fucking lungs out.
“Nggnngh. Oh James, oh baby. Fuck. Fuckfuckfuck”
You praise as your whole body goes off, waves after waves of electric pleasure washing over you. And of course. Bucky draws it out until your twitching and dry heaving and all but clawing at him to stop. He gives one final, loving lick, and then an even more tender kiss to the mound of your pussy before he begins to pull your leggings back up, you lift you hips to help him.
“You want to know something fucked up?” You note, your still laying back, blissed out in your post orgasm.
“What?” Bucky stands, going over to grab a random article of clothing from the hamper in the closet and to wipe his glistening lower face on.
“I could barley see you over my stomach!” You shake with laughter as you rub your bump fondly “Like, literally, all I could see was the top of your head!”
Bucky laughs, hard at that, at you. At your constantly joking nature. God, he couldn’t wait to see you with his child, he hoped they’d have your laugh.
After fixing both of your hair, you run a brush, taming your hair that had been mused when your head had thrashed against the bed. Make sure it falls over your shoulders right, before moving onto Bucky and easily reaching up gathering his mane into a smooth knot at the back of his neck. You loved his man-buns, he loved you doing his hair for him because hell if he could ever get it to cooperate on his own.
Bucky bundles you up nice and tight, wanting to make sure you were protected from the harsh chilly December air. You feel even bigger, which how was that even possible, in your bulky winter coat. In the scarf that he wound around your neck and the knit turban you tug onto your head.
“I look like a snow beast” You sigh, giving your hair one last fluff, putting on one last coat of lipstick. Bucky snorts and kisses the side of your head lovingly.
“You look cute. Like the abominable snow monster from Rudolph” He narrowly avoids your hand as you reach to slap him, maneuvering you easily, grabbing your elbow and pulling you to him so that he can press pecks your lips. You giggle into his mouth, although you still want to whack him. Steve manages to save his ass, as always by coming in, asking you if you were ready to go. Sam was right behind him teasing you guys with “If you guys could stop going at it like rabbits, we’re already late!”
“It’s not me” Bucky defends himself, pulling away from the kiss with dancing eyes “I’m just a bystander in this whole situation. Ya’ know, sperm doner-”
The slap you give to his shoulder echo’s around the room and you glare at him and walk away. Sam tosses an arm around your shoulders and gives Bucky a teasing glare just along with you as the two of you walk ahead. Bucky sighs. Oh, pregnancy hormones. You’d think he would have learned not to put his foot in his mouth after all these months, but he still wasn’t quite used to you being so touchy.
Steve gives Bucky a sympathetic look “Come on Bud, you can buy her a Cinnabon. She was complanin’ earlier about craving one. She’ll be right as rain”
Bucky just nods, smiling in spite of himself at the knowledge that baked goods really would fix it all. He thinks he could use one too. He’d knew he’d get back into your good graces, whether he had to eat Cinnamon rolls with you, or just drag you off somewhere and eat you in general. He’d do what he must. He’d been told those were the sacrifices that came with fatherhood…although he didn’t mind eating either.
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Okay, so I needed some happy smut in my life. Do you guys love cheesy Holliday fluff as much as I do? Let me know pretty babies!💛
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