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3rensgf · 3 years

Text

rent a gf - two eren yeager x reader

word count: 2.9k

warnings: mentions of sex, talks about "getting bitches", eren is an idiot, fuckboy!eren implied, tatbilb mention, uhh fluff idk theres not much to warn abt in here, not beta read

notes: chapter two is out! i'm really glad a lot of people are enjoying rent a gf. it really means a lot! i see some people commented on the previous chapter, and i would love to reply to them, but i'm not familiar with tumblrs commenting system D: if you wanna leave a comment for me to just read, that's fine you can still keep commenting here on tumblr. but if you would like me to reply to it, you can comment on ao3, and i will reply! happy reading :) p.s, waffles w whipped cream r so much better

[ read on ao3 ]

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In the early hours of Saturday morning, you felt a hand shaking your shoulder to wake you. Groaning and mumbling, you sleepily swatted the hand away and pulled the covers over your head. No one should be forced to wake up early on the weekends. It was Saturday, for fucks sake. Not to mention your hangover due to last nights mistakes was making your head throb.

The hand rested on your shoulder once more, shaking you gently. “(Y/N),” Mikasa said softly. “Your alarm has been going off for the past 10 minutes. Wake up. I have water and Advil.”

“Nooooo,” you moaned, snuggling deeper into your bed. “Don’ wanna.”

Mikasa stopped bothering you for a moment, and you let your guard down. Finally you could sleep. When it was time to wake up, you’d wake up.

Right as you were about to pass out again, your blanket was roughly tugged off of you. “Mikasaaa!” you whined, covering your face with your hands. “What was that for? I was trying to sleep.”

“Get up. You have to shower and get ready for lunch with Eren today. Breakfast is almost finished,” she explained, setting down the pills and water on your bedside table. “Go brush your teeth and wash your face so you can eat. Now,” she instructed sternly, moving to your window to open the curtains. The bright sunlight hit your still half-asleep face, making you hiss quietly.

She left the room moments after, probably to check up on breakfast. Honestly, you didn’t know how she could function this early in the morning despite having partied all night last night. Curse her and her inability to get hungover.

Grumbling to yourself, you adjusted your sleep clothes that had gotten disheveled overnight to make sure you looked decent. Your sleepy gaze wandered over to your nightstand to see two Advils on a napkin beside a glass of cold water. Thanking every higher power for sending Mikasa to you, you downed both pills and the glass of water. Even though you might bitch and moan to her constantly, you really weren’t lying when you said you’d die without Mikasa.

After sitting down at the edge of your bed for a few moments, you eventually shuffled into the bathroom to brush your teeth and do your morning routine. It took longer than usual thanks to your sluggish and tired movements, but you got done nevertheless.

A wonderful aroma came from the kitchen when you left, stomach grumbling in anticipation for the wonderful food you were about to scarf down. Mikasa was in the process of setting down both your breakfasts on the island, sitting down on the stools when you walked in. “Morning, Sleeping Beauty,” she greeted, resting her chin on her hands.

“Morning, sweet angel,” you replied, sitting at the stool beside her. In front of you was a plate of Funfetti pancakes with whipped cream instead of maple syrup (syrup was for pancakes only). There were a couple of cut up fruits beside them, too. “Where did you get these?” you asked, picking up your fork to take a bite of your breakfast.

Mikasa dug into her own breakfast of oatmeal as soon as you started eating. “Went grocery shopping and saw the mix in the baking aisle. I thought you’d like it,” she explained, taking a bite of her food. “Good?”

Your response was a moan, tilting your head back as you chewed. “Insanely,” you said, cutting up another bite. You stabbed the piece with your fork and guided it to Mikasa, keeping your hand under it to catch anything if it dropped.

She finished her bite and leaned in to take the bite, humming in satisfaction at the taste. “Good,” she nodded.

“They put like crack ‘n this shit,” you said through a full mouth, shoveling forkful after forkful into your mouth.

You could feel Mikasa's judging gaze for eating like a pig, but you didn’t care. All you cared about was eating these crack laced waffles as greedily as possible. “What time are you supposed to meet Eren today?” she asked to make conversation.

You remember drunkenly slurring to her that Eren was supposed to take you out for lunch today while she was trying to put you to bed. All she did was nod and dodge your flailing limbs while she tried to change you into your night clothes.

“Uhhh,” you trailed off, “I dunno actually. I think he’s gonna text me when.” The familiar notification from your phone indicated you had a text from Eren. “Right now.”

ren ᕙ(`▿´)ᕗ - 9:04 AM picking u up at 12 dont be late

you - 9:04 AM k

ren ᕙ(`▿´)ᕗ - 9:05 AM dont use k with me that makes me sad :(

you - 9:05 AM k

“He says 12,” you told Mikasa, setting your phone back down on the table. You went to go take another bite of your waffles, only to be met with stray bits of whipped cream and waffle crumbs. How disappointing.

“You have time to get ready then,” she said, finishing up the last bit of her own breakfast. Holding her plate, she got up to go put it in the sink, taking your plate for you as well. Literally an angel.

Suddenly, she leaned in to sniff you like the weird English professor you had your freshman year and cringed. “You’re gonna need all the time you can get. You stink.”

Never mind, not an angel.

Grumbling and cursing under your breath, you got off the stool to go take a shower. “And here I was about to offer to get you something for lunch while I was out.”

“A burger from the joint I like would be nice. So would a Coke and side of onion rings.”

“Size?”

“Medium for both.”

You would’ve caved in and bought her something, anyways. Might as well know what she wanted in the first place.

Showering took longer than expected. Most of your time got wasted by you standing under the shower stream and soaking in all the warmth. It wasn’t until Mikasa knocked on the door asking you not to use up all the hot water that made you actually start going through your routine.

The clock read 10:09 when you got out. You still had more time to kill until Eren came, so you elected to sit on your bed in your towel to scroll through social media. At 10:45, you started to get ready for real now.

Your makeup was just enough to cover any imperfections on your face, and your outfit cute enough for a lunch outing with your friend-fuckbuddy.

At 11:50, you stepped out into the living room with your belongings in hand to lounge around while you waited for Eren. You would’ve gone to bug Mikasa, but she had just stepped into the shower minutes prior.

12 on the dot, a rhythmic knocking was rapped on your door, meaning Eren was finally here. Skipping over to the door, you opened it to reveal him while slipping on your shoes.

“Hey,” he grinned when the door opened. He leaned in to give you a kiss on the lips after you’d straightened up from putting on your shoes.

A grin found its way on your lips during the kiss. It only lasted a couple of seconds, ending with you pulling away with a quiet smack. “Hi,” you greeted back.

“Ready to go?” he asked, one hand leaving his jacket pocket to jut his thumb down the hallway towards the elevators.

“Yup, ready,” you said. Over your shoulder, you yelled into the apartment to say goodbye to Mikasa and locking the door once you closed. “Okay, ready for real now.”

There was a new hot pot restaurant near campus, Eren told you, that he so desperately wanted to try. He overheard some people talking about the place in his Stats class, and he’s been wanting to go ever since.

“So, about what I told you last night,” he said, leaning on the table close to you after giving your orders to the waitress. “You said you would help me get Mina.”

“I said it was a bad idea,” you countered, taking a sip of your drink.

“But you said you would help me. For a price.”

“That I… did say,” you sighed. “What’s your plan?”

Smiling, he opened up his jacket and dug into the inner pockets, getting out a small notepad and a pen. Your eyebrows raised at the sight of them. “Okay,” he started, flipping through his notepad. “So I was thinking about it this morning, and this is what I have down so far.”

Sliding it towards you, he waited impatiently for you to read what he had.

Your lips pursed to prevent giggled from leaving your lips. Well, it was a plan, alright. Written in Eren’s chicken scratch of handwriting were a few very simple steps.

eren yaegers fool proof plan to get bitches get mina aka operation rent a gf by eren yaeger 1. talk to mina to get her interested in you ✓ 2. get hot girl ((Y/N)) to pretend to be your gf and show you can be a good bf 3. get mina jealous so she wants you even more and not poopy thomas wanker 4. “break up” with (Y/N) and pretend to be sad 5. get mina to comfort you 6. get bitches make mina your gf 7. pay (Y/N) for her services 8. ta-da!

When you looked up from the notepad, you saw Eren waiting for your answer. “Well? What do you think? Is it any good?” he asked.

“Were you high when you wrote this?” was the first thing you asked him. Eren shook his head innocently. “You’re 100% serious?” He nodded.

You bit your lip, deep in thought about Eren’s supposedly fool proof plan. “What makes you think it’s gonna work?”

“I know girls and how they act. If Paradis University let me major in women -- don’t get smart with me I don’t mean Women Studies -- I would be passing all my classes with flying colors. I know it’ll work, trust me,” he said cockily, leaning back in his chair.

“No you don’t.”

“Yes I do. I know you. I know everything about you, (Y/N). I even know how to make you scream my name in--”

“Okay!” you cut him off, not wanting the strangers around you to know the intimate details of your sex life with Eren. “Okay.”

“I knew you were gonna do that. See, I do know women.”

A moment or two passed, both of you staring at each other. You with a deadpan expression, and him with a proud one. You were the first one to break the silence with a heavy sigh. “Okay, say I agree to this. What do I get in return?”

“Anything you want,” he said. “Within reason, of course. Please don’t ask me to like, hide a body or something.”

Ignoring his last comment, you continued speaking, “You’re not allowed to back out of whatever I ask you to, right? If this plan fails or succeeds, you still owe me whatever you promised.”

Eren nodded. “Of course. I swear on it.” He shifted a little so his elbow was on the table, holding out a pinky. Instinctively, you held out your pinky as well and intertwined the both of them. Pinky promises were something you and Eren had been doing for years now. It meant that the other was dead serious on their promise.

The waitress came back with your broth and dipping ingredients, setting them on the table for you right when your pinkes left each other. Thanking the waitress, the two of you talked some more while you waited for the broth to heat up.

“We should make it official. With a contract and set of rules,” he said. “Like that one movie you forced me to watch with you. The Boys I Loved or some shit like that.”

“To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before,” you corrected.

“Yeah, that. They’re kinda doing something like us, yeah?”

“Guess so,” you shrugged, picking up your chopsticks and a sice of pork belly when the broth started to boil. “After we eat though.”

Idle chatter was shared between the two of you as you ate. Even though you saw each other nearly every day, you never ran out of things to talk to. You could be talking about complete nonsense or how quantum physics made no sense, and you would still have the best time of your life.

By now, the broth had been drunk up and the table had been cleared out to be replaced with banana milk and ice cream. Eren brought out his notepad again to write down the set of rules for your fake relationship while enjoying your desserts.

Good progress had been written so far on the notepad. Both of you had given input and criticism on each rule made. In the end, you finally had a good set of rules written down.

(Y/N) and erens contract and rules for eren yaegers fool proof plan to get mina aka operation rent a gf by eren yaeger 1. act normally. eren and (Y/N) act like a couple already. just double the pda a little more 2. don’t tell anyone about the deal. the more people who believe in the relationship, the more likely it is for the plan to work 3. post each other on ig a lot. maybe add names and a date to bios to make it more believable 4. date night every saturday (go out or just hang out) 5. go to parties together 6. walk each other to class if you can 7. call each other cute pet names 8. after breaking up, the couple act has to stop including the sex 9. DON’T SLIP UP

payment for (Y/N):

Eren tapped a beat on the notepad, reading “payment” over and over again. Eventually he looked up at you, deep in thought. “Have you thought of anything so far?” he asked, clicking the pen to write what you wanted.

This was a tough decision. Eren was ready to give you anything to help him get Mina. You had to be wise and pick something big to take advantage of him. Something you were sure you wouldn’t ever regret getting.

“How about,” you started, trailing off, “you do my laundry for the rest of our time at ParadisU, buy me lunch every Wednesday even after we break up, recommend that godsend of a tutor you keep gatekeeping to help me too, and…”

“And?” Eren asked, looking up from his writing, waiting for your next words.

“All the orgasms I want during our relationship,” you finished, satisfied with what you chose.

“Is that all?” he asked, writing down the last of your words. “That’s a lot.��

“How about I let you know if I wanna add more,” you said. Eren nodded in response. His head hung to look at the notepad again, writing something down. Once he was done, he plaed the pen on the pad and slid it to you.

“Sign it so it’s official,” he instructed.

There were two lines beside each other, one already with Eren’s signature. Without hesitation, you signed your name neatly on the paper, giving the items back to Eren once you were done.

payment for (Y/N): eren has to do the (Y/N)’s laundry for the rest of university, buy her lunch ever wednesday, get tutor to help her and give her as many orgasms as she wants during the course of the relationship

signed x eren yaeger x (y/n) (l/n)

The two of you shook hands when Eren put away his things, to seal the deal again. The waitress came by again to give you the bill and collect your dirty dishes. Eren set down the cash needed to pay along with a tip in the check presenter before the two of you left.

You walked hand in hand back to Erens car before you realized you missed something. “Wait. What do we tell people when they ask how we got together?” you asked, pausing in your tracks.

Eren stopped with you, turning to look at you. “Um, you can say I confessed after lunch, and that this is technically our first date,” he suggested, tugging your hand to walk back to the car.

“Huh. Okay. That works,” you nodded.

The two of you got into the car a little bit past 2:30 in the afternoon, ready to go home. “Wait,” you said again, making Eren pause. “Mikasa wanted a burger from that one joint near our apartment. Could you take me there first?”

Eren smiled and nodded, starting the car. “Of course. Burger with medium Coke and onion rings?”

“How did you know?”

“She always gets that when we go there.”

“Huh… I guess you’re right.”

“When am I not?”

"Always."

taglist - @thestrugglesofateenagedirtbag , @lazalee , @countthemoons , @se-va-muriendo-mialma , @liaxxx109 , @prxttyguardian , @jeansbabycake

italic names, it wouldn't let me tag you!

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peterrparrkerr · 3 years

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Hanahaki disease - read on ao3

Tagging: @lokitonypeter @just-things-things @thegreenmetblue @someonepostedart @andacheesyoneliner @bluestarker @lilcoffeecup @useless-fanfictions-for-mcu

*-*

Peter's known for a long time that he was in love with Tony. Since he was seven, and Ironman saved his life. Since he came home to Tony Stark on his couch, talking with his aunt.

Since the trip to Germany, and everything else leading up to now. The more time he spent with the older man, the more in love with him he became.

Peter never really thought he'd be the one to get sick. He thought he'd been immune. He's had crushes before, been in unrequited love before, and he never got sick.

But with Tony, it came on so suddenly. One day he was fine, and then the next, blue petals were in his sink after a coughing fit.

He'd been so shocked he'd stumbled back and almost hit his head on the bathroom door.

That was six months ago, and its not gotten better. He's been lucky enough to hide it from everyone.

With May's long hours at the hospital and his school's wacky scheduling, and the Avengers keeping Peter on the outskirts, its easy to hide the blue flowers.

He's read stories about people with the disease getting better on their own, or even learning to live with it for the rest of their lives.

He's also read about it killing people.

But he can't tell Tony how he feels. He just can't. Tony thinks of Peter as a kid. Plus, while the age difference doesn't bother Peter at all, it might bother Tony.

The man was old enough to be his dad anyway. So Peter decided to hide the flower petals. For as long as he could.

"Hey, Pete, you getting the popcorn or what?" Clint calls from the living room. Peter coughs again, hunched over the trashcan beside the kitchen island.

"Yeah!" He shouts, coughing again. He reaches into his mouth, picking the petals off his tongue before straightening. He glances down at the trash, covered in wet, wilty petals and feels his stomach roll.

He quickly grabs a bunch of paper towel, throwing them into the trash to cover them, then pushing it all down as far as it'd go.

After a second, he grabs the two bowls of popcorn and makes his way back into the living room.

"Sorry, I had to melt the butter," he excused, handing one bowl off to Clint -who would be sharing with Nat, Bruce and Steve.

Peter handed the other bowl off to Sam, who was in reach of Tony, Thor, Bucky and Peter.

"What are we watching again?" Peter asked, clearing his throat. It was always worse when Peter was around Tony.

"Halloween," Sam said, smirking over at Peter.

"Its August," Peter exclaims.

"Yeah, and we were going to watch A Walk To Remember but Tony doesn't do chick flicks, and the grandparents haven't seen it yet."

"Hey, Tony hasnt seen it either," Steve yelped, waving a hand at Tony, sitting at the corner of the couch, beside Sam.

Peter tried not to think about how close they'd be if Sam and him just switched places.

"That's because Halloween is a terrible series."

"It not!" Peter can't help interjecting. "Its right up there with Nightmare on Elm Street and Friday the 13th."

"How do you even know what those movies are?" Clint asks, laughing on the other couch.

"I watch old movies," Peter shrugged, feeling the familiar sense of self-consciousness creep into his chest, tickling at his lungs.

"Old!" Tony barked. "Kid, the 80s aren't old."

Peter forces himself to laugh and shrug and make a joke about hanging out with people twice his age, and the conversation moves on.

But it just reminds Peter that Tony would never see him as an equal because of his age. There was no way he'd ever accept that Peter loved him. Or would love him back.

The movie plays, and Peter chews handfuls of popcorn to keep from coughing up a lung.

Bucky and Steve are on the edge of their seats, fully invested in the corny horror film when Tony starts coughing.

Everyone glances over in concern, but the man just waves his hand, mouth pressed into his elbow.

"Pop-corn-" he chokes out between coughs.

"You're supposed to chew it," Nat laughs. Peter tries not to outwardly show how worried he is when Tony's face grows red, the coughing so bad he has to get up and make his way to his bedroom down the hallway.

Everyone returns to watching the movie, but Peter can't help but wonder if Tony's okay, especially when he doesn't come back right away.

"Uh, I gotta take a leak," Peter lies, climbing to his feet.

"Thanks for sharing, little man," Sam huffed. Peter doesn't say anything else,just makes his way down the hallway.

Tony's bedroom is all the way at the end. The only people who live in the penthouse with him are Steve and Bucky, and Wanda and Vision -though they're out on a date for the night.

He passes the bathroom door, and his frown deepens when he hears Tony hacking in his bedroom.

He keeps light on his toes, reaching the bedroom door that's not all the way closed, and pushes it open just a little.

"Ton-" the sight before him cuts him off, and he ducks back a little, worried maybe the older man might've seen him.

He feels his chest tighten at the sight. Tony, leaned over with a bedside trash can between his knees, coughing up little pink flowers.

Peter's eyes widen when the man spits a glob of blood into the basket before continuing to cough.

Tears burn at Peter's eyes and he quickly backs up, rushing down the hallway and past the living room.

"Hey, where you going? Where's the fire?"

"I-I gotta go home aunt May- uh, I gotta go she wants me home," Peter shouts, snatching up his keys and phone on the way out.

He's in the elevator, and he can't stop the sobs from tightening his throat.

Tony's sick. Tony's in love with someone who doesn't love him back. Tony's in love with someone and its not Peter.

Be chokes on tears and petals all the way to the main floor, shoves the petals into his pocket and runs from the building.

He knew his love was unrequited. He knew there was no chance, but to see Tony so in love with someone else -it was like digging a knife into his heart and twisting.

He makes it to his bedroom and buries his face into his pillow, muffling his crying so May won't hear when she gets home. Hopefully she'll think hes still at the tower and won't check on him until the morning.

He cries himself to sleep, eyes gritty and heavy.

*-*

"Hey, kid, how's patrolling going?"

Peter jolts at the sudden sound of Tony's voice in his ear, momentarily forgetting he has a connection to the tower now. New upgrades.

"Uh, good," Peter huffed, swinging from building to building. "Stopped a mugging, and helped a couple people with the parking meters."

Tony chuckles over the coms. "You gotta stop showing people the coin on tape trick."

Peter can't help but smile through his mask. He clears his throat when he feels the familiar tickle at the back of his throat.

"Fuck capitalism, Mr. Stark," he says.

"You do know capitolism is kind of my job?"

"Its not," Peter countered. "I mean, it relied heavily on it in the beginning -what with the weapons and war profiteering- but you've come a long way! Sustainable energy and you're even recycling!"

Tony chuckles again, and Peter has a moment to regret his words -Tomy probably thinks he's just a dumb kid- before a coughing fit hits him out of nowhere.

It's so bad, Peter loses his momentum and drops onto a rough of a small cafe. Hes on his hands and knees, crawling from the edge of the roof as he coughs and hacks.

"Pete, you okay? What's wrong?" Comes Tony's worried voice.

Peter feels the petals coating his mouth with nowhere to go and frantically tugs on his mask. He's choking, suffocating.

He rips the mask off and heaves a mess of petals and blood onto the gravel roof.

Its never been this bad. Panic grips his chest when he coughs and wretches more than he can get a breath in. He's suffocating.

Tears burn his eyes as he struck less desperately to take a breath. Just one breath.

His head begins to spin, chest heaving and he drops from his knees to his hips, legs curled off to the side as he holds himself up with shaky arms.

There's so much blood and petals, Peter doesn't know where its all coming from.

He's too busy dying to notice the suit of armor that drops onto the roof, or that Tony's suddenly rushing towards him.

"Jesus, kid!" He breathed.

Peter lets out a sob, blood and petals continuing to fall from his mouth. His stomach hurts from the heaving, his chest from lack of oxygen.

Tony grabs him by the arms, pulling him forward until he's away from the pile of bile, blood and blue wilting flowers, nearly cradling him in his arms.

"Its alright, you're okay, you're gonna be okay," Tony repeated, rocking Peter while he continued to cough and sob.

He shakes his head, even as exhaustion and lack of air flow has his eyelids drooping, body settling further into Tony's hold.

When he wakes up again, he's in a hospital bed. Theres an iv in the back of his hand, and a tube running down his throat from his nose.

He swallows around it and has to fight back panic at the strange feeling.

There's a heart monitor on his index finger, and a few on his chest -which is bare.

Peter moves shaky hands to the blanket and pulls it up just enough to see. Someone had taken his suit off, leaving him in his red boxers.

He blushes at that. Who had taken his suit off? Damn, he hoped it wasn't Clint or Sam.

He drops the blanket just as the door opens. He looks up to see Tony step inside and he wants the bed to swallow him whole.

"Hey, kid," he greeted, shutting the door behind him and making his way towards Peter's bed. "You had us all pretty worried."

Peter drops his eyes to the itchy white hospital sheet, picking at a loose thread and not saying anything. What was there to say?

Tony sighs as he settles down into the chair beside the bed.

"Your aunt May is in the middle of a shift, but she'll be stopping by when she's got a break to check up on you."

"Okay," Peter barely manages to murmur.

"The doctors had to pump your lungs," Tony continued. "But its not a cure, Pete. They'll come back."

Tears burn at his eyes and he quickly brushes them away, sniffling as he does so.

"I know," he said. "Its alright, I'm okay."

"Peter," Tony sighs, grabbing Peter's hand. He looks up then, seeing the concern in the older man's eyes. "You're not okay, you're really sick."

"People live with it all the time," Peter brushed off.

"Who is it?"

"What?" Peter asked, heart monitor matching his fast pulse.

"Who is it? How long have you been like this?"

and it must be because Peter is tired -exhausted and drained and so sick of being sick- because fresh tears bloom and he pulls his hand from Tony's.

"Long time," is all he can say as he presses his palms into his eyes, rubbing at the tears.

"Who," Tony presses.

Fuck it, Peter thinks. He's already dying, he's already humiliated. Why not just confess?

"You," he says, pulling his hands from his face. "I've-I've been in love with you for- for years."

He can't handle the shocked look that filters through Tony's features, so he looks down at the iv in his hand, lower lip trembling.

"And I know you don't think of me that way," he continues. "I know, so its okay, I'm fine, I'll get over it or, or get the surgery or something-"

"Peter," Tony interrupts, moving from the chair to the side of the bed. He grabs both sides of Peter's jaw, forcing him to look up at Tony. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because," he says on a wet breath. "Because you've always thought of me as a kid. You- I'm still just a kid to you, and thats okay, Mr. Stark, I'm-"

Tony's eyebrows furrow as Peter has to stop talking. He's getting to the point where he's babbling, not understandable.

"I don't think of you as a kid," Tony says.

"Yes, you do," Peter huffed, taking deep breaths to try and calm himself down. "You do, and thats okay, I promise, I've live this long with it, I'm okay."

"Has it always been that bad?"

Peter shakes his head.

"What made it worse?"

Peter's showing his hand already, he might as well expose the card up his sleeve too.

"I saw you," he murmured. "During the movie. You're sick too. I didn't mean to, I was just- checking to make sure you were okay but-"

"Peter, sweetheart," Tony interrupted, and Peter looked up at him, realizing suddenly the man's eyes are watering a little.

"I'm sick because of you."

Peter feels like someone punched the air from his lungs, and he blinks up at Tony, eyebrows drawing close as he tries to process what Tony's said.

"What?" He asks feebly. A small smile pulls at the corner of Tony's mouth and he leans forward, kissing Peter softly on the mouth.

It's a simple kiss, but it sucks the air from Peter's lungs.

"We're really bad at communicating, kid," Tony chuckled wetly, their noses brushing. Peter can't help but sniffle a laugh as well, his hands moving to grip the front of Tony's shirt.

"M'not a kid," he mumbles, pressing his forehead against Tony's. The older's hands are still cradling his face, thumbs brushing against his wet cheeks.

"No, you're not," Tony agreed.

#marvel #tony stark #peter parker #ironman #spiderman #starker #ao3 #my writing #sfsummerbingo21

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kaz11283 · 3 years

Text

Chapter 5

Characters: Clint, you, Loki

Warnings: this is a SLOW burn, slight angst, fluff at the end, Loki starting shit.

Summary: life has never really bwen this complicated. Or well the life that you think you know has never really been this complicated. Living with the avengers, learning new things, yeah its gonna be a long road but what else do you have to look forward to other than the random runins with the god of mischief.

Loki Masterlist

~~~~~

It had been about a week since you had arrived at the tower and just as long as your incounter with Loki, you hadnt had much time to think about it though since you were normally nose deep in class work or training with Nat and Clint since Tony had sent you the message "If your gonna be an avenger you have to train like one, training starts at 6." You had left him on read after that, you had never been a morning person and you sure as hell wasnt about to start now.

"Alright y/n, lets try you on the bow today." Clint smiled walking into the arena where most of your training took place.

"After I finish this." You said pointing to your coffee. "I swear, you would think that after saving lives you would want to sleep in." You grumbled.

"Bad guys dont sleep, we dont get to sleep." Clint said wiping down a few of his practice arrows.

"You didnt get back till like 3 this morning. Im really starting to wonder if you sleep at all." You tossed your cup away and got up starting to do your stretches.

"Get over here so I can show you how to hold this thing." He saod holding out the bow.

"I know how to use a bow, I was in archery in high school. Top of my team." You grabbed the bow feeling the cool metal in your hand. His bow was diffrent than what you was use to, as light as air almost were yours had been heavy.

"This bow is probably a little different than what your use to. The metal is vibranium, the strings are made of some type of industrial woven string that Tony invinted in his lab. Might be a littlw hard for you to pull back." He smiled looking at the bow like a child.

"It is very beautiful." You examined it looking down the sights has you pulled the string back easily. "Absolutly magnificent peice of weaponry." You looked over at him and seen that he was staring at you wide eyed. "What?"

"No one else has ever been able to draw the string back like that." You let the string gently go back into place amd handed it back to him.

"I told you, I was in archery while I was in high school."

"Theres no way that someone no matter how skilled they are can pull that back."

"Well if your forgetting, apperantly Im not from here either."

"Yup almost forgot, Asguardian. Anyways. You know how to use one of these so lets set up a few targets and get to work. Tony wants to try you out on a few different things, eval you, and see what suits you best. Im already leaning toward you being good at the bow."

After he talked you through some of the basics that you had informed him you knew and he insisted on stating that it was 'mandatory' you were finally able to pick up one of the training bows.

"These bows suck. Stark has all the money in the world and he buys walmart brand bows? If you pull this one back to many times the string will break. Why cant I just use yours?" You roll your eyes looking back at Clint.

"My bow, my baby. If you want ine bad enough you can start off at the bottom and work your way up. You have a card why dont you buy one?" He countered, just then the foor opened drawing your attention.

"Sorry, didnt realize that the area was occupied today, I just wanted to get a few throws in woth the new daggers Stark and Banner decided to enhance for me. Wanted to make sure that they wouldnt bloe up in my face." Loki said walking over to the bay next to you and Clint. You hadnt had a moment alone with the trickster since in the hall weeks ago and now he was here acting as of nothingbhad happened. You looked down at the daggers that he had laid out.

"Wow, those are beautiful." You noticed that not only had he laid down two simple green handeled knives but he had also laid down a set of electric blue ones and a set of gold handle ones engraved with ancient symbols and roses with the stems winding down the hilt. "May I?" You asked leaning down to get a closer look.

"Of course y/n, you are the one that gave me those." He answered casually. Your breathing hitched and you turned to look at him.

"Thats not funny Loki."

"I dont know what your talking about. I was simpl-" he started before you cut him off.

"You know damn good and well what I am talking about. What did you expect? Me to pick it up and everything come barreling back to me? Here I'll do you one even better." You stormed up to the daggers and grabbed one of the gold ones up throwing it at the target on the far side of the room. You had expected it to fall short and clink to the floor but you never hears it fall. When you looked at the target you noticed you had hit the middle.

Clints jaw had dropped as he was looking around the wall to see what you had been yelling about. Loki looked at you with a smug expression. "I assume they must have had knife throwing classes at the school you attended as well."

"Shut up. Clint are we done, I have some studying for class that I really need to do." You looked at clint as he knodded still awestruck. "Thanks, I'll talk with Tony about getting a better bow for me to practice with." You took off toward your room.

Later after you had taken a hot shower and changed into some leggings and a baggy shirt you decided to go to the one place in the tower that you had decided to claim as your own little study corner. It was located on of of the high up floors that happened to be more of an observation deck, you could watch the team leave on missions, see the ocean, and watch some of the most beautiful sun sets that you had seen. You had notice while checking the place out that there was a fairly large window seat that you could spead your work out on as you looked out over the city, this small part of the tower was your little hid away, you hadnt seen any other member of the team up here so you figured when you needed the alone time you could come here. It had seemed to work for the most part until today.

You notice the shadow of the figure standing over you before looking up into the eyes of Lokis confused ones, you had noticed his lips moving before rolling your eyes and taking out your noise canceling ear pods.

"What do you want Loki?" You sighed placing them back into the chsrging dock.

"Well if you hadnt had those things in you would have heard me tell you that I was sorry for earlier." He sassed crossing his arms.

"How did you find me? No one really bothers coming up here." You pulled your legs under your chin and covering you feet with the throw that you had brought up with you this time.

"The AI system has no bounderies when it comes to privacy, it can tell you were anyone is in this god forsaken place." He responded. "May I sit?"

"And if I say no?"

"I'll sit anyways." He shrugged.

"Then what is the point in asking?" You leaned forward moving your papers and books out of the way. He reached down and grabbed a few of the papers to help you.

"Your doing a paper on Shakespeare?" He asked as he sat down reading over the page.

"Umm, yeah. Part of my agreement to come here is so that I can finish up my collage classes. Drama and Art Major." He hamded the paper back to you so that you could stick it in your binder. He gave you a look that you were use to getting from him. "Don't say it Loki." You out your hand up to stop him before he could even open his mouth.

"I wasn't going to say anything." He held his hands up.

"Hum, interesting. The god of lies actually sucks at lying. I should remember that." You smiled. This was the first time you had actually felt half way confortable around him.

"I could never lie to you." He smiled back. "You have always had a knack for seeing right through me."

"I wish you wouldnt do that." You sighed leaning your heas agints the window behind you.

"Do what exactly?" He askes mirroring your position.

"Where you mention something about my past. Its annoying and it breaks my heart."

"Well Dove, how do you think I feel? The worst part about it for me is that while you remember nothing I am stuck remembering everything. Your past, my past, our past together. It truly is the worst pain that I have ever felt. To have something that you have wanted for so long in front of you and they dont even want you back." He sighed looking out the window.

"Loki," you crossed your legs and placed your elbows on your knees. "I have never said that I didnt want you. I just dont know what is what."

"So you do want me?" He laughted.

"That is not what I meant and you know it." You leanded back again. "Tell me about us. About how you and Thor know me." He eyes lite up.

Chapter 6

Tag list:

@high-functioning-lokipath

@serpentargo

@drbaureid

@poetic-fiasco

@kgirardin

@sophlubbwriting

@supbeeches

@rosaline-black

@jesuswasnotawhiteman

@natandersonnla

@delightfulheartdream

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snickiebear · 3 years

Note

yo nadia <3333 i'm bored in my online classes and u reblogged the questions thingy at the right time lmao, so get ready: 1, 4, 5, 9, 10, 17, 23, 24, 28, 30!!!, 34, 38, 39, 40 (the intimacy of being understood) (imma stop here lol) (also i'm sorry u're not feeling well, ily and hope u'll feel better soon!! <33333)

ELE ILY. (and thank you, i’m stayin home today cause,,, yeah. i appreciate you sm.) you’re the literal best, i adore you.

1. How long ago did you start reading fanfiction? Writing fanfiction?

The first fanfiction i read was for The Lunar Chronicles when I was like 11?? and it was 100% on accident and it scarred me because it was a hardcore porn one with a period kink and i was like WHAT IS THIS??? OH MY GOD???? LMAOOOOO i didn’t pick it back up until i was 13-14 and really got into the Fairy Tail fandom. I still reread my favorites on ff.net cause i love them.

As for writing, I wrote a horrible, terrible x-men fanfiction when I was twelve. (my friend still brings it up and REFUSES to delete it so it still gets comments and views, that shit HAUNTS ME ELE.) then tried again for Fairy Tail, posted like two chapters before taking it down cause i wasn’t really feeling it. And then I posted The Intimacy Of Being Understood and here we are.

4. Link your three favorite fics right now.

OMGG okok

@murd3rm1ttens ‘s The Problem How Time Works IF YOU HAVENT READ THIS YOU GUYS NEED TO HOP ON IT ASAP. MITTEN’S WRITING SO SO SO SO GOOD. SAKURA AND INO ARE TOTAL BADASSES. KAKASHI IS A SIMPPPP. ITS SO FUCKING GOOD.

@mouseymightymarvellous ‘s We Were Screaming In Color (Only A Possibility) yes, yes I KNOW. i always point into mousey’s direction but i WILL always advocate that everyone reads her fics, they’re literally so beautiful???? i just happen to be rereading WWSIN rn

@safelycapricious ‘s Shaking Up And Breaking Down series. I found this like?? idfk but i’ve been raving about it ever since. ALSO CHECK OUT THEIR FICS IN GENERAL.

fuck i have more than three but also check out @ambivalens999 ‘s Masks

i do wanna make a fic rec thing where i just rav about my favs,,, might do that later or sum

5. What are your fanfic pet peeves? Do they have a huge effect on whether or not you decide to read something?

Omniscient third person. I don’t like it. Like I can understand that it can be a little hard to stay in one person’s perspective but, in my opinion, if you can, it shows how disciplined you are as a writer. Plus, i just get so confused when I go from A’s thoughts to suddenly what B is thinking about A.

When writers use ‘ ‘ instead of “ “. When writers put thoughts in ‘ ‘ instead of just italicizing them. It’s small things but like they just bother me sO MUCH. most of the time i can ignore it and try to enjoy but other times i just dip.

9. Tag 3 fic writers you think are underrated/unknown in the fandom/fanfiction community.

@espoir-et-reves !!!!! THEIR SHISAKU FICS ARE SO SO SO SO SO GOOD. And they have a warring states one going on THAT I AM SO OBSESSED WITH.

@writer168 idk if they’re really “underrated” but THEY HAVE SUCH GREAT FICS ON AO3. Like theres an AU with sakura, kiba, and shino that i reread constantly because it just. is. so. fucking. GOOD. and they posted a new one that i’m YELLING about.

@eggtoasties okay they only have 2 in the naruto fandom (one shisaku which is still ongoing) BUT THEIR WRITING STYLE IS SO NICE?? I ABSOLUTELY LOVE IT. I still go back and reread their shikasaku one cause UGH i can’t get enough. I love it.

10. What’s your favorite fandom, pairing, or character to read fic for?

Fandoms: Naruto, Soul Eater, The Old Guard, ATLA

Parings: KakaSaku/ShikaSaku/ShiSaku/MultiSaku, SoMa, Joe X Nicky, Zukka

Character: SAKURA. I will read anything with Sakura as the main character and her being a fuckin badass or becoming a badass. I love her.

17. How obsessively do you sit and stare at your fic after you’ve just posted and wait for feedback?

aha.. haha.. well. I check my email like three times an hour. its the first thing i check in the mornings too. I’m literally a whore for praise and literally eat up feedback like its going out of style. I also reread a lot of my stuff because i make so many mistakes and spelling errors, or the spacing is weird oR SOMETHING. plus, literally any and all comments make my day, i go back and reread them cause they just make me feel so tingly and warm like “wow. this person enjoyed the fic/my writing enough to tell me. thats HUGE!”

23. What’s your absolute favorite trope to write?

Angry, feral, bloodied, morally gray women. They aren’t bad guys, they’re probably the good guy, but that doesn’t mean they cant be fucking raging at the world with raw knuckles and blood on their teeth. I just love an angry woman who struggles with her emotions and just has so much inner conflict but that doesn’t take away from her character or badassery, it adds to it.

24. What’s a trope that you’d like to never hear about as long as you live, let alone write?

The fake dating or miscommunication troupe. LIKE GUYS JUST TALK. AND TELL EACH OTHER OMFG. the entire like obliviousness of “nah they dont like me” while the They holds their hand and kisses their cheek. MOFO WHAT. it makes me so impatient and like mad HAAHHAHA. its probably because i’m a pretty confrontational person so seeing stuff like that just “cmon bro, USE YO HEAD.”

28. How do you deal with writing pressure (ie: pressure to update, negative comments, deadlines, etc)?

I have yet to receive a negative comment! Which i was really surprised about tbh. As for deadlines or pressure to update, i just kind of do whatever. I do set goals, but i set them flexible enough that hey, if i can’t do it, that’s okay.

I have a lot of mini goals, like “i want to write this chapter and get it done this week” and then the large goal is “FINISH BY END OF MAY” so i have time.

Actually, now that I think on it, the entire pressure to update thing is probably why i’m waiting until I have all of OL&W written to post it weekly,, cause well. I wouldn’t wanna leave you guys waiting as I tried to write and work out the next chapters and stuff, you know?

30. Post a snippet from your current WIP without context - no more than 300 words.

AAAAAA YOU KNOW I LOVE THESE AHAHAHAH

Have you seen the way the dead dance, World Breaker? They roar, half mad and starving. Do you not wish, do you not hope to see them twist and bend and dance to your will?

Shikamaru snarls, looking behind his shoulders to where his Shadows lay. “Patience.” He spits. “Is of the essence, Things of Ancient. Know your place as the dark you are.”

34. How much of yourself and your life experiences do you put into your writing? What do you think your readers’ image of you is?

None of my experiences match up to anything I write tbh,,, probably the only thing that is me in my writing is maybe the emotional turmoil? I’m pretty emotionally and mentally mature because from a pretty young age i started forming my own opinions, started looking into the world around us and being like “dude what the fuck this is not what disney advertised”. Then i started talking (read: arguing and debating) with my dad about a lot of it. So, like emotions are kind of hard for me. Like i’m pretty good at controlling them or understanding them, but still. idk its hard to explain ig.

Like the weight of stress, the anger, the sadness. It’s kind of therapeutic to write. Cause i don’t know how to put those feelings to verbal words so writing them really helps.

As for my readers’ image? Probably like some kind of hunched over figure typing away in the dark with a maniacal grin on their face. I honestly don’t know AHHAHAHA but it is fun to think about. I think they’d see me as someone with potential but a lot of room to grow and someone who is imperfect but in a charming way LMAOOOO

38. What does your writing process look like? How chaotic is it on a scale of 1 (very tame) to 10 (you can’t handle this kind of chaos)?

I’m gonna be real honest. Its probably like a 2. I’m a bit of a control freak so I almost always go in chronological order, my writing is pretty linear. Unless, i get bored and jump to one of my fav parts. It's pretty much i sit down, i open the doc, read over my notes and just start writing.

It’s a little boring to explain AHAHAHA but once i get into the groove of things its really fucking great, I can like feel myself in the world, I can feel what i want the characters to, i love it. I catch myself mouthing the words as i type too, which i find hilarious.

39. What’s something about your writing that you pride yourself on?

I rather like how raw my writing is sometimes. Which might sound really vain, but i do like the way i word things or describe things. I love juxtaposition and repetition, or making a good ole circle back to some minute detail that wouldn’t stand out until i repeat it at the end and you’re like “omg” AHAHAHAHA.

Like those little poetic snippets or certain wording i just sit back and go “damn thats kinda good nadia! go you!’ HAHAHA

40. How did you come up with the idea for The Intimacy Of Being Understood?

AAAAA this fic is like my first child, my pride and joy LMAO

so the idea initially came when i was reading some fic, idk if it was even naruto, but i was like “i don't like this, but i do like the rain symbolism.” And I knew i wanted to write something kind of slow paced, something a little sad and angsty, but would show KakaSaku slowly but surely falling in love.

Idk if you’ve noticed but a lot of my fics, the pairings don’t change each other dramatically. They accept each other as they are and then they grow with together. Like that acceptance is something i just love writing, its so subtle, it isn’t something you declare. Its simply “I am going to love you. I am going to love you despite your flaws and faults. I am going to love you unconditionally because I know you, I understand you, and there is nothing you could do to drive me away.”

The fic kind of wrote itself after that first scene. I kept going back to the rain, go being ghosts, and resurrection, and the small epiphanies one gets. I wanted to focus on each character’s growth with each other. They didn’t find light in life because of each other, but with each other. And i think that’s my favorite thing about that fic.

I wanted something raw and real and just something beautiful. I’m actually really proud of it tbh. Would i go back and rewrite/edit it? Oh of course! I’d do that with every single one of my fics, but i’m not gonna cause i think its in its rawest form right now. :))))

ask me shit plz

#silly things from silly friends

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wienerbarnes · 4 years

Text

Stressor

Pairing: Bucky x Reader (Cheek to Cheek)

Word Count: 2,622

Warnings: murder lol, mentions of gore/blood, mentions of rape (its described in like two sentences and theres a short non-graphic flashback, but pls pls pls message me if you dont wanna read and ill give u a sparknotes version), so theres angst but also some nice parts like bucky meditating okay

A/N: wrote this while procrastinating my art commissions but i bought my first laptop BY MYSELF after saving for months and im v excited :) lmk what yall think of this, i promise next part will be goofier/happier lol

MAIN MASTERLIST | CHEEK TO CHEEK MASTERLIST

“Shit… Fuck… Fuck! He’s gonna fucking kill me… fuck…”

The mumbles spill from your lips as you take in the scene in front of you. Puddles and puddles of blood covered the floor of your apartment, dirtying your beige tile and all the other surfaces with splatters. David lays in the middle, with about thirty-six stab wounds in his body.

When you and Bucky started the arrangement regarding your list, there were two rules you two agreed to follow - no matter what. First rule: Kills are never completed alone. You two are to complete the list together and help each other with everything that involves the person. Second rule: Bucky is to know everything about the person they’re killing. What they did to you, their name, their remaining family, where they live, what they eat for breakfast; everything.

And here you were breaking both of those rules.

It was too good of an opportunity, you try and convince yourself. Bucky will understand, he’s always so understanding, he never yells, he’s always so nice to you; a choked sob escaped your body as your dirty hands fly to cover your face, tears flowing down your cheeks mixing with the blood now smeared across your skin.

…

TWO HOURS EARLIER

Bucky always told you to be extremely cautious when leaving the apartment. Even though it had been well over a year, almost two, since your prison escape, you never knew who could be watching. Every few weeks or so, your name pops up in the news, Whatever happened to one of the worst killers in modern history, How did she pull off such an escape from such a high security facility, Is she even still alive, etc.

But as soon as your name appears, it vanishes once more, replaced by some other injustice happening in the world.

Your feet take you inside a small bar, the musky scent intrigues you along with the copious amounts of peanut shells littering the floor. You take a seat on the stool and try not to pay attention to the fact that every single person in the room is staring at you right now. But you can’t blame them; you’ve dyed your hair a pastel pink now, body covered in baggy jeans and baby blue long-sleeved milkmaid top, a gift from Bucky. “You can’t wear that one t-shirt, that’s mine, by the way, forever.” He’d told you. Your rainbow painted toes and fingernails stand out under the dimmed lights of the place.

An older man behind the bar approaches you and places a napkin in front of you, “What can I get ya’?” You order some beer plastered on the wall because as far as you know, you’ve never even tried alcohol before, let alone know enough about it to have any kind of preference.

You take sips of the beer for a while, aimlessly watching the sports game playing on the TV, every once in a while glancing at the pool table where a group of older men play a game together. Suddenly, the stool beside you becomes occupied. You know it’s not Bucky, he doesn’t know you’re here and it’s not his cologne, but for a second you were hoping it was. A parallel to when you sat with him in that cafe all that time ago. When he bought you that apple pie and hot chocolate. I miss him…

You refuse to look over at the man sitting next to you, but you can feel his eyes blatantly staring at you.

“So… what’s your name?” He breaks the silence and asks you. You don’t respond, simply just continue sipping away at your beer.

“My name is David.” He offers. A chill runs up your spine at the name and you look over at him. He looks so familiar… Where do I know him from? Have I seen him at the food market before? Is he Hydra? Did we go to school together? Were we in the Marines-

“Hey officer,” A deep voice curls into your ear, causing a chill to run up your spine.

“Fuck off, David. I’m trying to do my hair.” You don’t bother glancing at him in the mirror as you scoop more gel into your hands and smooth it onto the top of your head. You’ve let your hair grow to long and the strands keep sticking out of the bun, but the thought of asking any of the other women, or worse - the men, for help cutting it terrifies you. You’re still too new.

“Now, is that any way to talk to your higher up?” A large hand wraps around your middle and gropes your breast.

“I said fuck off.” A pointy elbow slams back into his chest, knocking the wind out of him.

“I’ll get you for that, just you wait. Fresh meat.”

Your body runs cold as you make the connection and you feel as though your entire body has shut down. You can feel the cold sweat gathering in your palms and your lower back. A lump forms in your throat and you want to cry; you want to scream. But something takes over, and although you feel terrified, you keep yourself composed; hide your anxiety.

“Do you want to get out of here? My place is only a few blocks away.” You ask, false sultriness dripping from your voice. David smirks at you, clearly not recognizing you from nearly a decade ago.

He takes out some cash and places it on the bar, grabbing your beer from your hands and placing it on top, grabbing your hands after and leading you out of the bar.

…

Bucky sits on the floor of his living room, practicing his twenty minutes of meditation before bed. Alpine rubs her cheek against the bare top of his foot that’s crossed under his knee, but eventually gets bored before trotting around behind him to start climbing her way up his back. Bucky tries his best to ignore her tiny nails digging through his shirt, but can’t help but chuckle as she makes herself comfortable in the curve of his neck. “Guess meditation time is over, huh baby?” He whispers before gathering her in his hands and plopping her on his bed. He reaches down to roll up his yoga mat when he hears a silent buzzing from his kitchen.

Confused on who would be calling him this late, knowing that Sharon’s visiting a college friend over in SoHo and Sam’s on a date, he sees a number he doesn’t recognize flash on the screen. Bucky hesitates answering, but he knows telemarketers rarely call this late.

“Hello?” Bucky answers.

“B-Bucky?” Your shaky voice sounds on the other end. The sound is watery and raspy, like you've been sobbing your eyes out and screaming for hours.

“Bucky, I-I-I need y-your help… I fucked up,” Your voice is cut off by a hiccup as Bucky goes to grab his closest pair of pants to go over his boxers and he pulls on sneakers before grabbing the keys to his bike.

“Hey, sweetheart? Do me a favor and relax, okay? Are you okay? Are you hurt?” Bucky rushes out as he locks his door behind him before making his way to the staircase.

“I’m so so so sorry, Bucky… please don’t be mad at me-e… I broke t-the rules,” Choked sobs escape you and Bucky has never heard you cry like that before.

“Listen, I’m already on my way, okay? I’ll be at yours in twenty minutes, okay?” You don’t respond as Bucky listens to your crying and you eventually hang up.

Broke the rules? What does she mean by… oh. She couldn’t have… we had our next hit planned for a few days from now. Did she do someone else on the list? Bucky tries not to think too much about it until he can get to yours and figure out what’s going on, his motorcycle screaming through the quiet night.

…

You’ve been sitting in David’s blood for about an hour now. The liquid is cold, his body is cold, the phone in your hand is cold. Nice going, you’ve really done it now. Not only have you probably just cost yourself your freedom, but you’ve ruined your jeans and the top Bucky bought you. He’s going to be so mad at you; he’s going to be so mad that he’s going to have no choice but to bring you in. He’ll be laughing as the cops drag you away-

Your thoughts are interrupted by a frantic knock on your door, Bucky’s voice calling your name on the other side.

“If you don’t open the door, I’m breaking it down!” He calls.

You slowly stand, trying not to slip in the puddle, before walking over to the door and opening it about halfway. Bucky’s eyes widen and his brows furrowed together as he looks your body up and down.

The blood on your clothes is starting to brown and you’re covered up to your forearms in blood. Splatters decorate your face, neck and hair, and your eyes are puffy from crying.

“I-I-” You begin to stutter. Bucky silently pushes his way inside to see the bloodbath waiting for him. He pushes the door closed behind him and stares at the body laying in the middle of the floor. Your knife still sits standing out of his face.

“Who the fuck is that?”

“Bu-Bucky- I can,”

“What, you-you can explain?!” Bucky snaps, turning to face you, and you’ve never seen him look at you like this. You flinch and take a half-step backwards, bumping into the door behind you.

Bucky turns back around, a flesh and silver hand running through his hair and roughly over his face.

“Here’s what’s going to happen,” He begins, voice eerily even, still staring at the body. “You're going to go shower and wash all of the blood off your body. Then you’re going to make sure this apartment is spotless. I’ll take care of… him. And then we’ll talk when I get back. Are we understood?”

You can’t seem to make any words come out so you quickly make your way to your bathroom and close the door behind you softly.

You shower until the water runs cold and your skin is tinted red. Either from the blood or how hard you were scrubbing, you’re not sure, you just didn’t want Bucky to still be in your apartment when you stepped out.

It’s not that you were scared of him, because you weren’t. You knew that Bucky would never intentionally harm you, both physically or mentally. You were more angry at yourself. Bucky's done nothing but protect you; he’s kept you a secret, helped you indirectly work through your trauma, stitched you up, made you smile and laugh when you didn’t even think that was ever going to be possible for you anymore. You broke the only rules he asked of you. You disappointed him. You’ve put him in an even worse position than he’s already in by protecting your existence.

You turn the knob of the water to the right before stepping out and wrapping your fluffy yellow robe around your body, tying it at the waist. Your apartment is empty when you step out of the bathroom, Bucky nor David occupying the space. Your walk over to your sink and open the cabinet on the bottom to take out your cleaning supplies before getting to work.

…

Bucky’s calmed down significantly by the time he gets back to your apartment. He checks his phone to see that it’s almost five in the morning before reaching in his other pocket for your keys that he took off the table, slipping the key into the lock and jiggling it until pushing the door open.

He’s not mad at you. Perhaps he was for a bit, but he realized that anger was just fear. Had anyone seen you? Did this guy do something to you? Did he recognize you and that’s why you needed to kill him? Did you kill him because you actually wanted to experience that again? He really hoped it wasn’t the last one.

You're sitting on your bed in the corner of the apartment, splatters still visible on the sheets but the floors are clean. The room doesn’t have an overpowering smell of bleach or cleaner, but there is no trace of a body here, besides the small splatters, but those can be passed off as splashes of wine. You did good.

Your feet are stretched out in front of your as your hands are planted behind your back, propping you up. Your yellow robe is tied around your waist but the edges sit high up on your thighs.

He sets your keys on your table, kicks off his shoes, and walks over to take a seat next to you.

“Did you know I was a Marine before all of this? When I was, like, eighteen?” You break the silence, still staring at the wall in front of you.

“Yes.”

“The guy was my unit chief. He raped me twice during my first week there.”

Bucky remains quiet as you explain, watching your face and it’s calm expression. You hesitate, opening and closing your mouth before opening it once more to continue.

“I went to some bar tonight and he hit on me. He didn’t recognize me, and… I don’t know. I thought I’d scare him or something, remind him what he’d done. But then he was here and he kept trying to feel me up even though I’d push him away. I didn’t have a plan yet. And then he snapped at me and then I snapped back…” You trailed off.

“After I realized what happened, I panicked and I used his phone to call you.”

“I’m really sorry, Bucky.” You say, softer now. You bring your legs up to your chest, wrapping your arms around your shins.

“Okay. I forgive you.” Bucky responds after a moment.

The two of you sit in silence next to each other on the thin sheets. You’re staring at the passing cars out the window. He’s staring at your plant that’s sitting on the small night stand next to your mattress. You’ve changed out the silver tin it was sitting in to a light blue one covered in green polka dots.

You tilt your head to meet his eyes and look away briefly before meeting them again.

“Can… Can I have a hug, Bucky?” You ask, with the smallest voice in the world, your sentence ending in a small crack.

Bucky doesn’t answer and instead scoots closer to you, wrapping his arms around your body and pulling you onto his lap, your thighs on either side of him, chests touching. His left arm wraps around your back and drags slowly up and down while his right hand rests on the back of your head, softly scratching through your still damp hair. Your hands are tucked close between both your chests and your breath fans softly against his neck where your head is tucked into. He silently breathes in your scent, the children’s strawberry soap you use mixed with a homey, warm small that’s just you. He watches out the window as the sky turns from a dark blue to a deep orange; it should be about five-thirty right about now and the morning traffic is about to start.

“There’s a ton of white cat hair on your shoulder, Buck.” He hears you whisper against him, voice slurring a bit with drowsiness, the last bits of adrenaline wearing off.

He smiles to himself and holds you until you're fast asleep, and then stays for a while after that, too.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #marvel #marvel fanficiton #bucky x criminal!reader #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes series

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ddaenggtan · 4 years

Text

as we go along | myj [m]

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

[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.

[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.

[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.

[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.

[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?

[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.

[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.”

25 Days of Christmas: A BTS Christmas Anthology

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noodlecupcakeswritings · 3 years

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Ownership - Chapter 18 (A Kylo RenxOC AU)

Cora Ardmore and Kylo Ren work for rival companies, but they don’t know that until after they spend the night together. Once their identities are revealed to each other it’s a question of who will cave first?

This fic is mostly porn, pure kinky porn.

Please leave comments, kudos and reblogs if you like it. If you would like to be tagged, let me know.

Warnings: Language, Plot, Phone sex, Dom/Sub Relationship, Masturbation, Dirty talk, Alcohol, Snoke being a creep

Chapter 18

Kylo Ren

I had half an hour before lunch break was over, half an hour to psyche myself up to confront Snoke. Cora was right. If I wanted this story to get out to the public, I needed to get Snoke to trust me more. But it wasn’t her ass on the line. If I went in accusing him, there was no doubt he would return in a hostile manner. I had to do this calmly, as if I’d come across the anomalies and was making him aware of them. With my appetite gone, I replaced the lid on my takeout and pushed it away from me. Picking up my notebook, I decided to get this over and done with now instead of waiting around where I would only freak myself more. Exiting my office, I headed to the lift and took two floors up. Of course, Snoke had the entire top floor to himself. Whereas Armitage and I had to share.

The lift dinged, the metal doors sliding open to reveal the plush waiting area. His assistant, Martha, sat at her desk and gave a soft frown. I didn’t have a fucking appointment. “Mr Ren, there’s nothing here in his schedule that says you’d be visiting,” she said with a false politeness. “Surprise visit. Something really important I need to tell him.” “Well, he’s currently with Mr Tarkin and Mr Krennic until one pm. Your welcome to take a seat and wait. He may have five minutes to spare between meetings, but you really should have called ahead.” “I’ll bear it in mind for the future,” I gave her a fake smile before taking a seat. I didn’t like the fact he was meeting with Tarkin and Krennic, probably plotting god knows what.

My nerves were getting the better of me, my leg bouncing as I glanced at my watch every minute. Finally the door opened, Krennic and Tarkin leaving. Snoke stood by the door and his gaze fell to me, a smile spreading across his face. “Kylo, I wasn’t expecting you,” he spoke, “come in.” Following him inside his office, I waited to see where I would be allowed to sit. Either at his desk, or the couch, or the little table and chairs he had in the corner. Snoke took us to the couch, and I sat on the expensive leather. “You look like you could do with a drink. Whiskey? Scotch? Bourbon?” Snoke offered. The kinder and accommodating he was, the harder it seemed to go about this. But I had to keep reminding myself that what he was doing was wrong.

“Whiskey, please.” I answered. It would help calm my nerves and make it easier to talk. Snoke pulled a bottle from the bar and poured until the two glasses were half full. Handing me my drink, he sat down next to me. “What troubles you? I know that look,” he asked, taking a sip. Drinking a mouthful, I let the warmth of the alcohol settle in my stomach before finally speaking. “I didn’t want to have to bother you with something like this. It’s probably nothing, but I just wanted to be sure. I found some anomalies in the stock count folder from last year and I found a few companies that don’t exist,” I explained. Snoke nodded, his eyes dropping to my notebook, “did you write them down?” Opening the notebook to the marked page, I handed it to him. Snoke scanned the list with interest before handing it back to me.

“You always were so clever. I was a fool to not have you on board sooner. I have been selling supplies to other business partners. Smaller groups that are unlisted for a reason,” he confessed. Whilst this was going well so far, if I didn’t tread carefully, this could still go wrong. “When you say smaller groups, do you mean…” I trailed off. “What others would deem terrorists. Yes. I know that may seem very conflicting for you Kylo, our job is to provide security and defence for the country. But what about other countries that don’t have the same level of security and defence as us? If they are willing to pay for a product, then I’m not going to turn them down. Frankly, half of them pay better than our American customers.” “I understand. It’s just a lot to take in.”

Snoke smiled sympathetically, “I want you on board Kylo. I saw something special in you when we met, and I still see it now. You’ve always been such a valuable asset to the company.” “What would be required of me?” “You are always such a good businessman; you know exactly to strike a deal and get people to agree to the terms-“ “I think your mistaking me with Armitage,” I joked, “I know the two of us don’t see eye to eye all the time but when we put aside our differences we do work well together.” “You do. If you agree to be on board, I would also want Armitage on board. Both of you would be unstoppable and the pay rise you’d both get would be well worth it.” “I can talk to him, if you’d like. I don’t think he’d take much convincing.”

“I have a free half an hour later, I’ll do it. I’m glad you’ve agreed to be on board Kylo. It’ll be a great opportunity to progress like you’ve always wanted, you’ll be able to travel the world on the company’s expenses too. It’s a win-win situation. However, you’ll need to open a new bank account. I have a few open in Puerto Rico, that way I can’t be taxed even more. The money you make from this work I’ll deposit in that account.” Tax evasion. Another thing to add to the list of offences. “Right, you think with how much we donate to charity they could cut us some slack,” I joked. Snoke chuckled at that, which made me feel better about the situation. That I wasn’t being suspicious. “I would recommend going this weekend, the sooner its open, the sooner we can start really working together,” Snoke suggested.

The weekend? Cora and I hadn’t spent the weekend apart since the beginning of the relationship. Whilst I didn’t like the idea, I knew it had to be done. She wouldn’t be happy about it either, but she’d understand. “Sure, I can do this weekend,” I agreed. “Good. Leave everything to me, I’ll send you the details tomorrow. Is that everything? Or was there something else you wished to discuss?” “No. That’s everything. Thank you for giving me another amazing opportunity. I really don’t know where I’d be now if I hadn’t met you.” I finished my drink, and Snoke, then led me to the door. Once completely out of sight in the elevator, I breathed a heavy sigh of relief.

I couldn’t quite believe I’d gotten away with it. I knew better than to completely trust the situation though and let myself get comfortable. If Snoke wasn’t watching me like a hawk, I knew Tarkin or Krennic would be. Pulling out my phone, I sent Armitage a quick heads up text so he could prepare himself for Snoke later. Now I just had to break the news to Cora tonight.

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

Later around 9:30pm I got ready for bed and slipped under the sheets. Grabbing my phone from the nightstand, I called Cora and waited for her to answer. “Hey, it’s about time you called me. I was starting to get worried that I needed to send the cops round for a wellbeing check,” Cora answered, the relief obvious in her voice. “You don’t need to worry, I’m okay. Snoke brought it and I’m in.” “That’s great. That’s really gonna help speed things along. I also found a few things today that might help.” “Oh?” “Armitage sent me something earlier. Theres a recorded break in at The First Order warehouses, but there’s no police report. Two crates of supplies were taken. Only the records doesn’t list any damage to the building and the alarm didn’t go off. So to me, it seems someone let them in and take what they wanted.”

I frowned, “Armitage sent you that?” “Yeah, I was just as surprised as you are. But it’s very helpful. I also did my own research. Last year the state of California made an arrest for suspected terrorism. I’m going to pull a few strings and see if I can get an interview.” I didn’t like the sound of Cora going to a maximum-security prison to interview someone on her own. But I couldn’t go with her now that I was ‘in cahoots’ with Snoke. “You’re not going on your own,” I replied, firmly. “I mean, I was probably going to take Finn or someone else with me. I’ve interviewed criminals before, I’ll be okay.” I still didn’t like it, but I didn’t have the energy to argue with her.

“I’m not gonna be able to do this weekend,” I finally broke the news to her. “Oh? Is everything okay?” “Its fine. Just Snoke wants me to travel and open a new bank account. Preferably overseas.” “For tax evasion purposes?” “Yeah.” “Are you going on your own?” “I don’t know. He’s organizing the whole thing. He also mentioned how he’d get Armitage on board too. So if that’s the case, we’ll likely be going together.” Cora laughed softly, “try not to kill each other during the flight.” “I’ll try not to. I’m going to miss you, Kitten.”

There was a pause on Coras end for a few seconds, “I’m gonna miss you too.” “What are you gonna miss more, Kitten? My tongue or my cock?” “Hmmm, that’s a very hard question,” she purred. “That’s not the only thing that’s hard right now, Kitten.” My cock was already half hard just from thinking about her perfect pussy. Putting my phone on loudspeaker, I placed it next to me on the pillow. Slowly I stroked and teased my cock through my boxers, the fabric getting tighter around my growing cock. “Are you going to touch yourself for me, Kitten?” I asked. “Yes, sir.”

“Put the phone on loudspeaker so I can hear how wet your pussy gets.” I could picture her biting her lip at that, her cheeks tinging a soft pink. There was a rustling sound, likely Cora undressing and getting herself comfortable. “Tell me how wet you are right now,” I ordered. Coras breath hitched as she stroked herself, “not quite dripping, Sir but I’m sure you can change that.” I chuckled, taking my boxers off, “your right about that, Kitten. Fuck, I’m so hard for you right now. Rub your clit for me, Kitten.” Cora inhaled sharply as she did as she was told. She whined softly, likely bucking into her own touch.

“That feel good, Kitten?” I asked, stroking my cock at the breathy little noises she made. “Yes, sir. Not as good as your fingers though.” “Bet my tongue would feel even better. I’d eat you out until you were shaking for me, Kitten.” My mouth watered at the thought of her dripping wet pussy, how good she always tasted. Gripping my cock tighter, I gave it long slow strokes, pre-cum beading at the tip. Cora moaned as she continued stroking her clit, the sound making my cock twitch. “How bad do you want my cock, Kitten?” I asked. “I need it, sir, I’m aching to be filled.” “Then use your fingers, Kitten. Fuck yourself open for me.”

Cora moaned louder as she likely pushed two fingers into her greedy pussy. Speeding up my own pace, I groaned at the mental image of Cora naked on her bed, her body flushed red and writhing in pleasure. “Still want my cock, Kitten?” I asked, my voice breathier than before. “You know I do.” “Make yourself cum for me. I want to hear you come undone, Kitten.” Cora cursed, likely curling her fingers against her hidden spot and rubbing her clit with her free hand. “Fuck, Kitten, I miss the feeling of your perfect pussy wrapped around my cock. When I see you next, I’m going to fuck you until neither of us can move,” I growled.

She could only moan in response as she continued to take herself closer to the edge. Her moans came more frequently, her breathing shallow. I continued giving words of encouragement, desperate to hear more of her moans. By now, I was fucking my fist, chasing my own climax. “Fuck! Kylo!” Cora cried out as she reached her peak, moaning my name over and over like a mantra. Cora moaning my name was exactly what I needed to tip me over the edge, cumming into my fist and across my belly with a guttural groan. I continued to stroke myself until the slight pain of overstimulation set in. “You better make good on that promise next weekend,” Cora giggled softly. “Don’t I always make good on my promises, Kitten? This one’s no exception.”

Taglist: @sweetfictionalworld, @sweetsec-93, @cltex84, @jana-banana-fana, @dark-night-sky-99, @little-laamb, @jynzandtonic, @neeharlow

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princecupcakee · 4 years

Text

Park Bench | Reddie

Read on AO3

Rating: E

Pairing: Richie Tozier/Eddie Kaspbrak

Word Count: 3,112

Chapter: 1/8

Next Chapters: Chapter 2 (AO3), Chapter 3 (AO3), Chapter 4 (AO3)

Summary: Recently divorced and ‘incapable of love’, Eddie Kaspbrak moves to Los Angeles for work and a small, small hope of a fresh start. Broken up and never dated again, Richie Tozier tries to get back into love with help from his love of music. Quickly meeting eyes and one concert later, they think that maybe love isn’t that bad. So they try it one more time.

Chapter 1: Richie Tozier’s Plan, Eddie Kaspbrak’s First Vinyl & Beverly Marsh’s Plan

Tags/Warnings: Angst / Unhappy Ending / theres only one sex scene but this is explicit anyway / Bisexual Richie Tozier / Gay Eddie Kaspbrak / Post-Divorce / Implied/Referenced Cheating / Inspired By Remembering Sunday (All Time Low) / Inspired by The Book Ninja by Ali Berg / Implied/Referenced Child Abuse / Implied/Referenced Abuse / Implied/Referenced Manipulation

Tag-list: @richietoaster, @s-s-georgie, @mikeuris, @gazebobullshit, @that-weird-girls-blog, @tozierking, @thoughtfullyyoungduck, @s-onora, @bellarosewrites, @lermanslogan, @ambitiousskychild, @ghostnebula, @vanillaredvelvet,

(Ask if you wanna be on the tag-list!!)

Chapter 1

Richie Tozier’s Plan

If Richie’s love life was written into a song, it would be called ‘Disaster’; named after his sad attempts at everything even just slightly involved with it. It would be a ballad, slow at first, some depressing line about how dreams don’t become reality. The chorus would hit loud, deafening if rock music wasn’t something you’d find yourself listening to, ‘He loved the sound of their romance’ is the loudest line in the chorus followed by: ‘But he messed up the steps to the dance’ then a sudden melancholy beat, ‘He failed his audition and he lost his chance.’ Toward the end of the song, as the sounds of the drums faded, and a slow guitar was the dominant sound, ‘It’s hopeless’ and the song would close.

Richie’s love life was an utter disaster if you tried to put it to words. He hadn’t had a single normal date in a very long time (he wonders if he ever did, really.) It wasn’t as simple as, ‘I spilled my drink and now there’s going to be a stain and that embarrassing’ those dates wouldn’t stand a chance on his. A few from his museum of failed dates:

Exhibit A -

James: Hey, I saw that you live in Los Angeles

Richie: Yeah! What about you?

James: I just got out of jail and my ex changed the locks. I really need a place to stay?

Exhibit B -

“I love this band so much,” Abigail gushed.

“Me, too! I’m really glad we were able to catch them here.”

And later that night on the news: ‘Woman arrested for jumping on stage to pull a strand of hair from a celebrity in a Los Angeles concert.’

Exhibit C - Connor. Connor Bowers was perfect with Richie, at least as Richie thought. The two had been dating for 2 years until Richie proposed, only to be rejected. Connor confessed that he was cheating, that he didn’t even actually like men. The night they got together, Richie had bought him a drink. Connor really only wanted to try it, but it clearly wasn’t for him. The next morning though, when they woke up in Connor’s bedroom, Richie decided that they were together. Richie wasn’t really thinking, he was just in desperate need for love. After Richie was kicked out of Connor’s apartment, he ended up in Stan’s house, unable to stay alone his own.

Richie never really moved out of Stan and Patty’s house. They didn’t really mind Richie living there, but they did mind that Richie was still bitter about the breakup. Stan and Richie have been friends since they were kids, he’s seen Richie in every way. Patty and Richie became close friends right when Stan introduced them. They would try to set Richie up with a few of their friends but he would just sulk in his room. He claims to be ‘done with love in the most chill way possible’ but the sad love songs, the bitterness on Valentines, and the sulking would beg to differ.“Love isn’t that bad you know, you could try”

“I don’t need to try. I’m fine,” Richie countered.

“There’s a lot of fish in the sea,” Patty said, kindly.

“Not anymore. All I get is plastic bags now,” Richie said bitterly.

Stan sighed, “you’re just gonna be alone forever?”

“Yes,” Richie replied immediately, standing up to get ready for work. Aside from a few comedy gigs, he works at a little record store a few minutes from where he lives. The store had the best speakers, phonographs, Walkmans, discs, headphones, everything. Richie loved it there, always being surrounded by music. The store was always pretty empty, aside from the occasional customer, it was just him. Like its always been.

He took his car from the driveway, heading for the city.

~~~

“Morning, Ben, Bev,” Richie nodded at them, smiling.

“Good morning Richie,” Beverly greeted with a wave, “How have you been?” Beverly was Ben’s wife, she has always been nice to Richie. ‘Nice’ didn’t compose of only greetings and coffee and being professional, they were close friends who went out to movies and heard each other’s lives play. Beverly designed clothing lines, while Ben was an architect. They don’t spend much time in the store, usually just leaving it with Richie.

“Pretty good, you?”

“Fine, but this one forgot to fix the thing on this table yesterday and was insanely worried all night,” Beverly pointed to Ben over her shoulder.

“It could break!” Ben argued, continuing to fix whatever was wrong with the table. Beverly walked over to Richie, who is sat down on the sofa. “So… I have this friend. He’s smart, good-looking, and really nice-“

“No, Bev, I’m not going to date. I’m single and unwilling to mingle.”

“More like, single and afraid to mingle,” she tiredly rolls her eyes, “Richie, there are good people out there, you just have to try.”

“I don’t see that. All the good people are with the other good people. Look at you and Ben! Both of you are like, super hot and nice. Guys like me got no chance- not saying that I want a chance, because I’m fine being alone.”

“You just have to keep looking.”

“Its a waste of energy to ‘keep looking.’ People who like me are not okay. Remember Abigail? Not to mention, people have shit taste in music.”

“You’re such a music snob,” She weakly laughs and shakes her head.

“Alright, its good. The screws were just-“ Ben says, getting up and walking to them.

“Ben, we love you but I don’t understand a single thing you say about architecture and furniture, and whatever else there is,” Bev jokes.

“I try. I’m out for today though, I have meeting, and I’m not sure if I’ll be back,” Ben says to Richie.

“Thats fine, I’ll just sit back here,” Richie smiles putting his hands behind his head and leaning further into the sofa.

“See you then.”

Richie picked up a vinyl and put it in the player. He had been playing around with cassettes, and a few of his own vinyl for a few hours now (‘few’ probably not being the case) and thinking and writing. After he’s finished a chunk of the script he was working on for his Friday performance at a local bar, he had gotten bored and just casually sat by the sofa. ‘Love’ the word danced around his head, taunting him. Or at least, to him, it was taunting. ’He woke up from dreaming and put on his shoes’ sung the player.

The song carried him around as he sang, “Forgive me I’m trying to find, my calling, I’m calling at night. I don’t mean to be a bother but have you seen this girl?” The lyrics took him strongly, his heart tight and loose at the same time, feeling each beat. He drums his fingers on the sofa, following the beats, “She’s been running through my dreams. And its driving me crazy it seems. I’m going to ask her to marry me.”

“you’re such a music snob,” rang in his ears, and he knew what he was going to do. He ran to his collection of vinyl seated by the left of the speakers, under the small table and began to search. He had his own few pieces of vinyl in the store, his own music that he listened to on the empty days of work. The Beatles, Green Day, Aerosmith, he took all the classics in his hands and grinned.

~~~

“Explain to me your plan again?” Stan asked, shocked.

“I’m going to get the best vinyl, write my number or email- whatever, and see who calls. Go on a date, see what happens. I’m gonna leave the vinyl all around the city’s subway all that, ” Richie explains excitedly.

“That might actually work!” Patty says, joining Richie’s excitement.

“This can get you more crazy dates than the ones you got before, Rich,” Stan says, unsure.

“Then, its material for my shows! Like Abigail and James!”

“See, Stan? Its great! Richie tries to go back to dating and he gets show material, win-win!” Patty hopes.

“Where will you get all the vinyl your leaving?”

“Thats the only downside, I’m going to use my own vinyl, maybe beg Ben to let me use the ones at the store?”

Stan sighs, softly smiling and nods, “this could work.”

~~~

‘Hot Fuss’ sat on his lap as he traced over the letters. Richie was in doubt now, his heart racing as he sat in the train. This was the first vinyl he would be leaving for this project of his. His stop was in a few minutes, so he pulled out the Sharpie from his pocket, bit the cap off, and wrote: ‘If you’ve enjoyed listening to this, would you enjoy a date too? Email me, Richie Tozier, @Remembering_Records.’ Richie set the vinyl down subtly and walked. “@Remembering_Records?” Stan asks.

“I was listening to Remembering Sunday, it was influenced,” Richie replies, hopping over the gap, he takes a deep breath and looks over at Stan, “Let’s hope this works,” he smiles, dashing away.

Eddie Kaspbrak’s First Vinyl

“I can’t believe we’re not using our cars,” Eddie mumbles, grumpily.

“Says the New Yorker,” Mike jokes.

“I drive there! Bill’s from there too! Subway stations are so unsanitary, so many people-“

“P-please! Enough with the com-complaining!” Bill says, frustrated, “M-Mike’s car broke down, and there’s no other way to get to B-Ben and Bev’s shop.”

“Its your day off! You landed in LA at midnight, and now we’re going to meet up with old friends,” Mike says happily, walking into the train.

“Exactly! Midnight. I shouldn’t be running around in this germ-infested-“

Mike looks at him tiredly.

“—I’m doing this because Ben and Bev are great and they’re our place to stay, Florida,” Eddie rolls his eyes.

Eddie doesn’t fit in LA. At all. He’s not used to the weather, the lifestyle, everything. He doesn’t like it here and just wants to go home. And Los Angeles seems to not want him here either. He lost one out of three of his suitcases the moment he got down, he had to wait an hour for Mike and Bill to pick him up from the airport, Mike’s car breaks down on the way to meet a friend, and now he’s taking the dirty subway.

He’s only really here for work. All three of them are. Bill and Eddie are from New York, and Mike is from Florida. They were transferred to the Los Angeles branch as a way to teach and help the new workers there. Bill’s ex-girlfriend, Beverly, lives in Los Angeles with her husband. They’re all good friends and Ben and Beverly offered to let them stay at their house (scratch that- mansion) for as long as they’re there. Of course, they took the offer instead of some crummy hotel, too far from their jobs.

Now here he is, on a train, heading to EighthNote to meet Ben and Beverly. But something isn’t right in this train, Eddie doesn’t know if this is just Los Angeles, but there, two seats away, is a light blue, paper casing, with the words ‘The Killers Hot Fuss’ sprawled across its center.

“Look, its Hot Fuss,” Mike points, “someone must’ve lost it.”

“We could put it in the l-lost and found,” Bill mumbles.

“Do not touch that. Who knows where its been?” Eddie says immediately, grabbing Bill's wrist and lightly pulling him back.

But Mike was already on his way to the seat, hand already about to grab the record. Until some guy in his late twenties took the record and sat on the seat. “Oh, is this yours?” He asks Mike.

“Oh, no, it isn’t mine,” Mike says walking back to Bill and Eddie.

~~~

On a street corner, a glass door, big windows, and a small wood sign that says EighthNote hanging above, Ben and Bev were talking inside when Bill, Mike, and Eddie walked in. “Ben! Bev!” Mike smiles, arms open wide.

“Its been so long!” Beverly sings, piling them into a group hug.

“It really has. I didn’t even know you had this shop,” Eddie says, admiring the speakers.

“At this point, it isn’t even ours, one our friends who work here basically one the place at this point,” Ben explains.

“You guys have a whole staff for this?”

“Nah, its just one of our friends. We pretty much just lay around here, the few customers here and there,” Beverly smiles, “he’s got comedy gigs though, he should honestly be a star now.”

“What’s his name?”

“Richie. We met him through Patty—one of my friends who model for me— her husband, Stan.”

“I’m probably pulling at strings here but are you talking about Stan Uris?” Mike asks, surprised.

“Yeah! How do you know him?”

“Best ex I ever had.”

Beverly laughs cheekily, “do tell.”

“Nothing! I just know from college, we dated a while, then he swooned for a girl, Patty Blum.”

“Thats her alright. Gorgeous.”

Eddie had moved on from the speakers by then, knowing they’d be reminiscing college in the next few minutes. Eddie only knows Ben and Beverly through Bill. Bill and Beverly had dated in college, but broke up and just stuck to being friends. Nothing is really awkward between them, all still close. Ben and Eddie both get along with architecture. He really just wanted something to do, he didn’t know what anything in this store was. “Its the thing from the train,” Eddie points, not exactly talking to anyone.

“Oh yeah,” Mike says walking over to Eddie. Mike’s reply startling him.

“Train?” Ben asks.

“We found a vinyl in the train on our way here,” Bill explains.

The conversation didn’t go into the details anymore, as Beverly took the record and put it in… Eddie didn’t know what that was. Was he supposed to? He saw Walkmans from his classmates when he was in middle school, but he never paid too much attention to it. He simply didn’t have the time or energy to care. Its just music. The song started oddly, in Eddie’s opinion. ‘Save some face, you know you’ve only got one’

“What the fuck is this?” Eddie wondered as the song continued.

“You’ve never heard ‘Smile Like You Mean It’?” Bill asks making Eddie slightly uncomfortable.

“I- No?”

Beverly cheekily grinning, “Well, since you’re in LA with us, you’re gonna finally see what good music is.”

~~~

The day took longer than Eddie had hoped, but now, he was in a car (thank God) heading the Marsh’s house. Grateful that Bill and Mike were just as exhausted and quiet as he was, he finally caught up with his thoughts. He was finally able to think again, about how the shop looked, how much he disliked the album Beverly basically threw at his ears, how cute the boy who walked into the shop earlier- no. No. Not what should be running threw his head right now. “Do you guys know the guy who walked into EighthNote earlier?”

“The tall, Hawaiian shirt guy with the glasses?” Mike asked, not looking at Eddie as he turned the wheel.

“Yeah.”

“I th-think that was the guy who works there. Who would randomly bring food into a store and y-yell ‘I brought Chinese, fuckers!’ If they didn’t work there?” Bill answers.

“Right,” Eddie says, his mind wandering away from the topic. He found himself opening his phone and searching ‘Hot Fuss’ into Spotify’s search bar. As much as he’d hate to admit it, it wasn’t that bad. And the guy at the store was cute.

Beverly Marsh’s Plan

“I brought Chinese, fuckers!” Richie shouted as he walked into the store. He instantly dropped his hands when he saw a man right in front of him.

After a quite lengthy moment of staring, “Excuse me,” he said, moving to the right of Richie, out the door, two men following after.

“Who were they?” Richie asked, setting the food on the table in front of him.

“Old friends of ours. They’re gonna be staying at our place,” Beverly explains.

“Okay,” Richie drags the word, “anyway, I have an amazing plan that was already put into action before any of you two hets try to stop me—”

“Uh-huh,” Ben cautiously nods.

“— so. Here’s how it works. I’m gonna set out a bunch of vinyl and shit on subways, with an email written on the back, and see how calls. I write if they wanna go on a date on the back, and if you’re worried if that'll be a bunch of people like Abigail and shit, I’m not saying you’re wrong. But if it is, it’s show material. It’s gonna be great.”

“This is amazing! You should’ve told us earlier, I totally would’ve come with you!” Beverly laughs.

“Wait. Did you start today?” Ben asks.

“Yeah, why?”

“Which?” Ben smirks at Beverly, as she returns the look.

“Hot Fuss,” Richie smiles. Ben and Beverly snicker. Richie rolls his eyes, “Yeah I know I played Mr. Brightside to a girl before, but I didn’t know the song was about cheating!”

Beverly’s laughter doubles, “That’s not it but okay.”

“Whatever. But, anyway, who was the short guy earlier?”

“We told you, old friends. Why?” Ben says.

“Dunno. He was kinda cute I guess.”

“See? I told you you’d like him. That was the guy I was telling you about,” Beverly smiles knowingly.

“You tried to set up Eddie and Richie?” Ben wonders. Beverly sneaks a wink at Ben, “There’s a concert next weekend, right?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“Think you could get us three more tickets?”

“Sure?”

~~~

Beverly walked into to her and Ben’s room, grinning. “Are you gonna explain why you’re so happy?” Ben asks.

“We’re gonna get Richie and Eddie together.”

Ben gives an unsure look at her, “Richie’s going back to dating with this vinyls-on-trains thing he’s doing. Are you sure you want to set him up? You know how unhappy he is about love and stuff, its surprising enough that he’s willing to try again.”

Beverly takes a moment to think. She knows Ben is right, but she also knows that this will be good for both Eddie and Richie. Well, the second one, she isn’t so sure of. “I guess,” Beverly says, slightly disheartened, “but, we could ask them and, y’know, try?” She says hopefully.

“As much as I worry about this, I also think that it could be good. We’ll take them both to the concert and see where they go from there. What do you think?”

“Perfect,” Beverly smiles.

#reddie #reddie fic #it #it chap one #it chap two #remembering Sunday + The book ninja au

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bnhaficsforthesoul · 4 years

Text

Todoroki x Reader

"Ah! I- I'm sorry, oh.. hi Todoroki"

You smiled up at the man you had just bumped into - amused at the coincidence of literally bumping into him while shopping in town. You felt your face heat up a bit, but told yourself this wasn't the time and fought it. Still, you tried to check him out without being too obvious (even though he was literally staring back at you) you noted his casual outfit - a navy button up with black skinny jeans. And at the close proximity, you couldn't help but notice the scent of mint coming off of him.

"Y/l/n... are you shopping as well?"

Focusing yourself away from the comforting smell, you nodded, "Yup! I needed some new clothes, but then I saw this necklace that I knew Uraraka would love, so I had to buy it. And then Bakugou texted me to buy some cooking supplies for dinner, so I'm gonna be busy for a while."

Todoroki smiled back at you, and grabbed his phone from his pocket, checking the time.

"Well, I don't have anywhere to be for a while, so how about I keep you company?"

-------

Tossing and turning in your bed, you just couldn't seem to fall asleep. You were exhausted, you had been busy all weekend, and it was Monday! It's always easier to fall asleep on Monday nights, but your body just wouldn't let you.

You sighed and sat up in your bed, getting annoyed with yourself as you bounced your leg off the bed, obviously jittery "What should I do..."

You looked around, trying to think of anything you could do to calm yourself down enough so that you could possibly fall asleep, but you couldn't think of anything. That is, until your mind wandered to Todoroki, and that lovely peppermint smell. Immediately, you found yourself sitting still, calmer already.

Sadly, that didn't seem to be enough. Now normally, you would just push it off and go on your phone for an hour or so then try to sleep again. But, there was a big physical test tomorrow, and Aizawa would get mad at you if you were tired for it.

So, you did the only rational thing. You stood up, walked out of your room, and walked all the way to Todorokis room. You only realized it would be annoying once you arrived - remembering it was almost 2 in the morning and he would be asleep by now.

Still, you knocked on the door and waited. It took a minute, but the door soon opened and Todorokis tired eyes peered through the crack he made, widening a bit when he saw you. He opened the door the rest of the way and frowned, concerned.

"Y/l/n, are you alright? It's late, you should be sleeping."

You sighed, nodding slowly, "I know... I've been trying to sleep for hours. But I can't... sorry for bothering you. I'll go back-"

"Come in."

You stopped, confused for a second before seeing that he had already walked back into his room and left the door open for you. Deciding that you might as well since you bothered him in the first place, you walked in, and immediately you realized it was a good decision.

Mint enveloped your senses. You wondered if it was a cologne, or if it was just his natural scent. Either way, it was nice, and it made him feel homey.

"I heard that sometimes sleeping with others can make one more comfortable. If you dont mind, you can sleep in here tonight."

You were ready to protest, but you were already here. And god you wanted nothing more than to be as close to him as possible. So, if he was inviting, you were all for it.

You climbed into the bed with him, and he pulled the covers over the body of you. There was a good foot of space between you two, but you were close enough to feel the heat radiating off his body - and for the ming smell to get stronger.

You could barely muster a "good night" before you had fallen asleep.

------

After that night, sleeping in his room became somewhat of a routine. The next night you had tried going to sleep, only to fall victim to the same torture, and you went back to Todoroki. He didn't mind, and you slept in there again.

Now, it's gotten to the point where you cant fall asleep without him being there, the mintiness of his presence comforting you to no ends. Todoroki, unbeknownst to you, had also grown addicted to your new routine - impatiently waiting for the night when he could spend it with you.

But, sadly, you had to break your routine one weekend where Endeaver insisted that he come home, and he had no choice. That left you alone, and restless.

The first night, you started in your room, but grew anxious in the now unfamiliar atmosphere, so you went back to Todorokis room. You felt a bit odd being in there without him knowing, but it wasn't like you were snooping or anything, so you didn't think he would mind if he found out.

You lied down on his bed and closed your eyes, only to lay awake all night.

The next night, you tried again, to no avail. You were tired, you just wanted to sleep, and you missed the boy that was normally beside you. There was no denying your crush at this point - you couldnt even go a couple days without being near the man apparently.

Frustrated, tired, and lonely, you called him, and was surprised at how quickly he answered.

"Y/n! Hey..."

"Hey..."

There was a long silence between the two of you. You both knew what was up, you couldnt sleep without the other.

"I miss you."

It came out of your mouth before you could stop it, and you almost dropped the phone in embarrassment. He didn't say anything for a good minute, which scared you even more, but you didn't know what to say to remove the awkwardness.

"I miss you too... everything is wrong about this room, without you here I feel so tense. All I could think about last night was how badly I wanted you in my arms. What's wrong with me..."

"Shouto... theres nothing wrong, I feel the same."

"Y/n? I think I like you."

Smiling as you lied down onto the bed, you closed your eyes softly. "I think I like you too, Shouto."

"Then dont hang up. Well sleep like this - we can talk until we fall asleep. And don't hang up, I want you to be the first thing I hear in the morning."

With the mint smell of his room, the comfort of his bed, and the sound of his voice, you soon found yourself being lulled to sleep, smiling softly as Todoroki whispered "good night, love"

#bnha #mha #boku no hero x reader #boku no hero fanfic #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #todoroki #todoroki shouto #shouto todoroki #todoroki x reader #todoroki imagine #todoroki fluff #todoroki scenario

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just-my-fandom · 5 years

Text

Glisten (Peter Parker x Reader)

Request; May I have a Peter P x reader where May calls the reader freaking the fuck out because Peter hasnt come home, and the reader waits with May at their apartment until Peter comes home upset because he lost the Stark internship, and reader asks May if they can be alone and Peter cries in her arms?? Fluffff pleease

600 followers, yayyy!

__________________________________________

"Y/N, please tell me Peter's with you,"

Your eyebrows furrow as you press your phone between your ear and your shoulder, fingers typing aimlessly on the computer in front of you,

"Oh, no, Im sorry, May he isn't. Why, do you need him?"

"Peter hasnt come home," May exhales, and you sit up, eyes darting around your room mindlessly,

"What? Shouldnt he have been back from the trip by now?" You slide out of bed, shrugging on a jacket and shouting to your mom downstairs, "Dont worry May, Im on my way,"

"I didnt mean to bother you," May sniffs, as you kiss your mothers cheek and grab your keys, briefly explaining to her of May,

"No no," You step out of your home, slipping into your car, "I promise, May, you're not a bother. Im going to call Peter and see if he'll answer, I'll be at your apartment soon, okay?"

"Okay," May whispers, "Please hurry,"

. . .

"When did you last talk to him?"

May watches you pull your phone from your ear, pacing in front of her and typing on your phone of a third message,

"Four, five hours ago, maybe," You shrug, panic now settling in your chest, "Its nearly midnight, where the hell could he be?"

The slam of a door makes your pacing stop, head lifting as Peter padded into the living room, May standing up sharply,

"And where have you been?" She snarls, "I know about the sneaking out, and I know about you running away from the trip,"

"I lost the Stark Internship," Peters voice breaks roughly, his watery eyes staring at you, "M-my phone was shattered, I couldnt call,"

"Why didnt you get a payphone?" You set your phone down, walking around to couch and settling your hands on his face, thumbs running under his eye's, "Peter, May called me worried sick, I thought something happened to you, bad,"

"I know," Peters trembling hands rest on your wrists, shutting his eyes so the tears slipped, "Im sorry,"

You glance at May quickly, the woman nodding and stepping out of sight, your arms sliding around Peters neck to drag him down, his forehead on your shoulder,

"Hey, hey," You slip a hand into his hair, lips at his cheek, "Baby, its okay. Its okay, I promise. Im just glad you're okay,"

Peter brings his arms to your waist, pulling you into his chest, his lips releasing a sob,

You shut your eye's, slowly swaying him side to side, murmuring into his ear,

"You look exhausted," You finally lean back, hand at his jaw, "Want me to stay the night?"

"Please," Peter swallows, his eyes red, and you nod, leaning up to slowly kiss his lips,

"Go get into some warm clothes, okay?" You whisper against his lips, moving from his arms, "I'm gonna call my mom for a heads up,"

Peter nods, May stepping back into the living room and watching him trudge to his room, her eyes moving to you picking up your phone,

"What happened?"

"Hes crushed," You swallow, looking up at her, "Is it alright if I stay with him tonight?"

"Of course," May nods, crossing her arms slowly, "As long as it is with your mom,"

"Thanks," You smile, looking down when your phone vibrates, "Shes okay with it and understands. She suggests a day out of school," You look up at May for confirmation, and she presses her lips together,

"Alright," May gives in, "Do you want me to make you something to eat?"

"No, Im okay," You set your phone in your pocket, rubbing your hands, "Im gonna go check on him,"

"Okay, yeah," May nods quickly, "I'll see you two in the morning,"

Closing Peters door and looking around, you spot him curled into his blankets, your lips in a weak smile,

You peal off your shirt so you are left in a tank top, crawling into bed next to the teen and beckoning him closer,

Peter sniffles, loudly, arms wrapping at your waist and head resting on your chest, his eyes pinched tight,

"How does a day from school sound?" You ask quietly, finger twirling in his curly locks, "We can sleep in and you can tell me what happened,"

Peter nods, nose in your neck, and his eyes open, "Im sorry for worrying you,"

"Dont apologise," You run your hand down his back, lips on his forehead, "You're safe at home, its all the matters,"

Peter sits up, red eyes meeting yours, and you smile warmly, hand at his cheek, "What is it?"

"You and Ned are really the only people that I can count on," He says after a moments hesitation, "Theres something I need to tell you,"

"Sure," You sit up, hands in your lap, "What is it?"

"I-," Peter pauses, swallowing, "Im Spiderman,"

You blink, glancing away, then back up at him, "Really?"

"Well, w-was," Peter sits back, and you frown,

"I know it hurts," You soothe, slowly leaning up so your lips connected, "But Im going to be right here through it all, do you understand? Youre not alone,"

"I know," Peter slips an arm to your waist, lifting you so you rested on his lap, "Maybe some kisses will help me feel better?"

"I could give you way more than kisses, Parker," Your hands cup the back of his neck, drawing him forward to meet lips,

Peters fingers grasp at your waist, pulling you tighter against him,

You pull back to gasp in a breath of air, nose nuzzling to his and eyes shutting, "I love you Peter, thank you for trusting me in telling me,"

"You deserved to know," Peter kisses your cheek, gently, rolling so you were both on your side,

You open your arms and make grabby hands, Peter sliding closer, head at your chest a second time and eyes closing, lulling to sleep when your fingers fiddle with his hair, and thats when he knows,

He'll be okay

#peter parker x sister reader #peter parker x stark reader #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #peter parker #peter parker smut #tony stark imagine #tony stark x reader #tony stark

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bourbonboredom · 4 years

Text

A Reason To Believe Chapter 8

Being an undercover officer is a perilous job and Flip Zimmerman knows this far too well. He keeps his romantic life limited to one-night stands, never letting anyone get too close. That all starts to change when he meets a vivacious Jewish woman named Elle just as he’s about to take on a seriously dangerous undercover job; infiltrating the KKK. Elle and his undercover work make him question things he’d never thought to before and challenge him to see the world, and himself, in a whole new light.

A Flip x OC Fic

Word Count: 3,900

Warnings: drinking, slurs, sex

Left standing in the lurch at a church

Where people saying: "My God, that's tough"

"She stood him up"

"No point in us remaining"

"We may as well go home"

As I did on my own

Alone again, naturally

(x)

The hangover was killing him, but he figured he deserved that.

Flip had been going through his week the best he could, he knew he still had to do his job. This job was supposed to come first, he couldn't let relationships get in his way. That's what he'd been telling his coworkers for years, he couldn't make an exception for himself.

But as soon as he was off the clock, the bottle came out. The whiskey bottle that was nearly full a week ago was now emptied and thrown in the trash with the first one he’d downed. A new bottle sat in the back seat of is car to be opened tonight. He knew he shouldn't be doing this, showing up for undercover work hungover was an awful idea, but it was the only way he was gonna get any sleep.

He kept the phone within arms reach at home, just in case she called.

But she never did that week.

The next time he hung out with the guys at Felix's theres was a pit in his stomach. On the one hand, he was glad to be out with no chance of Elle being around, but on the other hand he was trapped in a room full of people who reminded him there were some who wanted him dead for something he had no control over. Trapped in a room with the people who he had to defend Elle from, the people who threw pennies and slurs her way. He grimaced, noting he was one of those people now.

The wire was strapped to his chest, ready to catch anything that might be incriminating. He stepped into the house towards the kitchen where Felix and company we're waiting for him.

“You’ve got a twin” Felix sneered at him.

“What?” Flip didn’t like where this conversation could be going. He tried to play it cool as waited for him to speak.

“And he’s a n*****” Felix spat out.

Fuck.

“Looked in the phone book and went over what I thought was your place and found a n****** there,”

“My number’s unlisted,” Flip tried. The table of men continued to stare him down. “What address did you go to?”

“Bluestem,” Felix answered.

“Bluestem Lane? No, I live on South 21st Street,”

“So you don’t know that n*****?” Felix asked, eyes trained on Flip’s face.

“Oh, you mean the n***** I keep in my wood pile,” He answered, trying to break the tension.

It worked, the table erupted into laughter. He breathed an inner sigh of relief.

“I live on 113 South 21st, come by sometime, we’ll have a beer,” He offered.

He cursed himself for not considering their addresses. Of course the klan would want to check up on where Ron Stallworth lived. He made a note to talk to the real Ron about it later. Felix gave him a wary look, as if considering his options.

“And y'know what? That loud mouth Black Student Union bitch that's been in the paper complaining about the Police. She was there,”

“Hate that cunt!” Ivanhoe groaned.

“I’d like to shut her up permanently,” Felix said, his face twisting into a sneer.

“Hey, don’t say that,” Flip started, putting all eyes instantly back on him again. He waited a beat, considering his words before talking again. “Not until I get those lips wrapped around the head of my dick,”

The group laughed again, clinking beers with him as they sat down. He pretended to be as gleeful as them, hiding any exhaustion he was feeling. He took a swig of beer, at least that would help his hangover.

“Can we play some god damn poker?”

----

Back at the station, Flip pulls the wire from his body, waiting for Ron to join him in the room for review. He winds the wires up, putting them in their designated boxes as he thinks of what exactly he’s going to say to his partner about Felix finding his address. This job was encroaching on his personal life, what little bit of it he had left. The rest of the bullpen was treating him differently, showing sympathy towards him. It was uncomfortable. He didn’t want that. He just wanted to do his undercover work, fill out the paperwork alone at his desk, and keep himself as busy as possible.

Ron eventually came in with the recording equipment and Flip opened his mouth, ready to give him an earful. He stopped when he say Jimmy trailing in behind Ron, hands in his pockets and starting Flip down.

"A little late for you to be here, isn't it?” Flip asked.

"I'm doing your paperwork tonight. You need to go home and get some rest," He responded.

“What?” Flip was confused.

Jimmy didn't have anything to do with this case. Why was he being told what to do?

"You've been a wreck all week. I know you're upset, and you have every right to be. You say to put our work first, but it's clearly making you miserable,"

"It doesn't matter now. She's not coming back," He mumbled.

"Go home Flip. Clean yourself up, and maybe get some real sleep tonight," He said firmly.

“But—"

"The rookie and I got this, don't worry," He reassured, and gave him a little push toward the door.

He decided they were probably right and headed home, thankful that he already had the new bottle in his car. He didn't have the energy to get another one right now. He made it home, whiskey in hand, and collapsed into a chair at his small kitchen table.

He shrugged off his jacket, throwing it on to the couch in the next room. He thought about prying his shoes off but couldn't muster the energy. Wow, did he feel fuckin’ useless right now. Couldn't even take off his shoes. He sat in his dimly lit apartment in silence for a moment. Any thoughts of having a girl to come home to were a pipe dream at this point. He opened the bottle of whiskey and pushed any thoughts of that out of his mind.

He took a swig, letting the dark liquid burn his throat. He grimaced, but let the taste linger in his mouth. He knew he'd have to pick himself back up eventually, but he was gonna let himself wallow in self pity for a little bit longer. He sat in silence for a while, trying to quiet his thoughts with the occasional swig. He felt himself growing more and more tired. Jimmy was right, he could use some rest. He closed his eyes for a second, leaving his currently reality behind.

A knock at the door broke him out of his trance.

He looked at the clock, he’d only had his eyes closed for a few minutes. He rarely had visitors. And none who didn't call beforehand. He figured it was his annoying downstairs neighbor again. He couldn't help it if he had a heavy walk. He decided to ignore them, he didn't want to talk to anyone.

The knock came again though. Now he was feeling annoyed, who the fuck was banging on his door at this hour? The knocking continued and he lurched up from his chair, letting the legs screech across the floor. He made the trip to his front door with only a few strides, not bothering to check the peephole as he swung the door open, ready to give the person a piece of his mind.

But all anger left his body when he saw Elle standing on the other side of the door frame.

"Hey," She said softly. She was wearing a heavy sweater and high waisted jeans. Converse covered her feet and her hair hung over her shoulders as she looked up at him.

"Elle," He whispered, not sure if he was still dreaming.

"I wanted to talk, is it okay if I come in?" She asked.

"Yeah, please," He moved his body so she could come into his apartment.

She's never seen his place before, he realized. It was a fucking mess right now, he felt a little embarrassed, but he was also in awe that she was there in the first place. She noticed the bottle of whiskey on the kitchen table and looked back at him with sad eyes, but didn't say anything.

She sat down at the table, across from his seat and waited for him to sit down as well. He did, not able to take his eyes off her. She looks back at him, before looking away and chewing on her lip. Was he supposed to say something? Or was he just supposed to listen?

"What you did last week was...upsetting," She started, choosing her words carefully.

"Elle, I'm so—“ He was stopped by her putting up her hand.

"Let me speak, please," He nodded and let her continue.

Her arms were crossed, elbows on the table. Her eyes didn’t meet his at first, looking down at the table and the bottle of whiskey as she spoke to him.

"I've never had a boyfriend speak to me that way. I've never let a boyfriend talk to me that way. I didn't think you were capable of that. I was--I was shocked. I thought I knew you. It felt like a betrayal, I never wanted to see you again,"

"Then you came around my place trying to talk to me. That just made me angry. I mean, who the fuck did you think you were? Calling me a kike and then telling me you lov—“ She stopped herself. "Telling me those words,"

"Then I started thinking about what you'd said. About being a detective, and how you have to keep your work secret. And how I could ask your coworkers if I didn't believe you. So I did. I went to the station, looking for you. You weren't there, of course. But a guy named Jimmy was. He said he was your partner,”

"He looked kind of shocked to see me once I explained who I was and why I was there. He immediately called for another officer to come out and see me. He said his name was Ron, I guess he was that Rookie you were telling me about. They spent the next half hour telling me how you were part of an undercover case and how I had walked right into you during it. That the men you were with were dangerous and how you were just trying to keep me safe."

"I was," He said quietly.

"I know that now," She nodded at him. "And then they proceeded to tell me how much of a mope you'd been for the last week. How you'd barely speak to anyone outside of casework. Ron said he'd heard the whole thing on tape, you had a wire on you for the case and anything you said was staying in character while trying to get me out of trouble,"

"Im so sorry I spoke to you like that. The work I was doing...the guys I was with...you weren't going to be safe if you'd stayed. I had to get you out of there before they could do anything to you,"

"Your partner wouldn't tell me exactly what kind of work you were doing. Said it was up to you to say,"

"Do you want to know?"

"Are you allowed to tell me?"

"No. But I will. You deserve an explanation,"

"Alright," She sucked in a deep breath, waiting for his answer.

"The KKK," He mumbled, averting her gaze. It was followed by silence, and then the sound of the whiskey bottle moving across the table.

He looked up to see her taking a deep drink of the liquid, coughing after and setting the bottle down before looking at him again.

"Well, I guess that explains the racial slurs," She deadpanned.

"I'm so sorry Elle, i wish I told you sooner. But its just so dangerous, I never wanted you to get involved,"

"I gotta be honest, that wasn't what I was expecting" She rubbed her temple. "I was thinking the mafia maybe? Maybe another drug thing? But the KKK? Really Flip?”

"It was assigned to me, I didn't choose it," He reasoned.

"I mean, what happens if they find out who you are? They could kill you,"

"They won't. This is my job, and I happen to be pretty good at it," He said with a hint of teasing.

"That's what your partner's said too. To not worry too much," She half-smiled at him.

"I meant what I said, you know," He held her gaze. He didn't have to tell her what he meant, she knew.

"I know. It was shitty timing on your part," She looked back down at the bottle.

"I was afraid you wouldn't ever know if I didn't tell you then," He said, "I didn't know if I'd ever see you again,"

"Well, here I am," she motioned around the room with a light laugh. "And, um, I forgive you. What you said, what you did. It felt awful, I cant deny that, but you were only trying to protect me. I know that now,”

He felt a weight lift from his chest. He reached across the table for one of her hands. He needed to touch her, know this was for real. She put her small hand in his, giving him a squeeze before brushing her thumb against his skin.

"Are we okay?" He asked, trying to make sure.

"Yeah," She looked up at him. "You're not getting rid of me that easy Zimmerman,"

"Come here," He tugged on her hand.

She circled the table, sitting in his lap and letting him wrap his arms around her. She did the same, burrowing her face into his shoulder. He smelled her hair, felt her figure through her sweater. He was never going to let her go again.

"I love you too,"

It took him a second to make out what she had said. It was muffled in the fabric of his shirt. But he'd heard it.

She lifted her head to look at him. She bumped noses with him, running a hand along his jaw. He pulled her into a kiss. Long and desperate. He felt so lucky to be able to do this, hold her close, kiss her, tell her how he felt. His hands roamed around her body, mapping out every inch he could. Her hands curled up in his hair, deepening the kiss. They were both acting like they were starved, like the world was going to end if they didn’t keep going. His hands traveled toward the hem of her sweater, finding their way to bare flesh. He stopped himself from going any further, breaking off the kiss momentarily.

“Am I going to fast?” He asked, slightly out of breath. He wanted to make sure she was comfortable with that they were doing.

“No, I want this. I want you,” She reassured, the hands in his hair pulling him back into the kiss. Something he gladly welcomed.

He placed his hands under her thighs, steadying her as he stood up from the chair. They continued to kiss as he carried her to his bedroom. As he went through the door, he remembered the laundry that had been left on the floor over the last few weeks. He scolded himself internally, hoping she wouldn’t mind the mess too much. He gently kicked most of it under the bed to worry about later.

He set her down gently on his bed, watching as she laid back on the half-made blankets and sheets. The lights were off, but the street lamps from outside his window were just bright enough to let them make out one another’s figure. He could see the way her curls fanned out across his pillow, and he could see her chest rise and fall in anticipation. She kicked off her shoes, letting them clatter to the floor by Flip’s feet.

He did the same before moving on top of her, his arms braced at either side of her waist. Her sweater had ridden up, giving him a glimpse of her stomach. He pushed it up further, she inhaled sharply as her body made contact with the cool air. She propped herself up, making it easier for him to take the sweater off her, leaving him with a view of her with just her jeans and a pretty pink lace bra. His hand glided back down her body, leaving goosebumps in its wake. He trailed down to the fly of her jeans, popping open the buttons and pulling the denim from her body.

“Gorgeous” He whispered as he kissed her stomach.

Her hands moved to unbutton his shirt, him kissing up her body as she worked. As she reached the last button her hands dipped lower to his belt. He stopped to help her remove his pants, head buried between her breasts. Quick work was made of the denim, revealing the tent in his boxers. He nipped at the swell of her breasts as he unhooked her bra, leaving only her underwear. As the lace fell to the floor, he let out a low moan.

He could see the wet spot on the fabric between her thighs. He gently spread her legs to get a better view before pushing his face against the fabric. He groaned as he mouthed at her clit through the cotton, feeling it grow even damper. He could hear her whimper, hands working their way to his hair, a silent plead for him to keep going.

He pulled the underwear from her body, leaving her bare in front of him. He took a moment to take her in, staring shamelessly at the woman on his bed. She stared back, fingers tracing his chest slowly. Eventually she tugged at the collar of his shirt, bringing him in for a kiss.

He kissed her like she were the only thing that mattered in the world. His hands tangled in her dark curls, something he’d longed for in her absence.She leaned into his touch, deepening the kiss. He broke it when he needed air, lightly panting.

“I want to make you feel so good baby,” He murmured, kissing down her neck.

“You already do, Flip”

“I owe you,” He dropped his face to her inner thigh. “Let me take care of you tonight,”

He knew he owed her so much more after what he’d put her through, but she seemed to understand what he meant. She smiled at him and let him continue.

Two of his large fingers slid inside her, scissoring her walls to stretch her out. He knew she was going to need it. She bit her lip in order to stop from moaning.

“I wanna hear you, I need to hear how good I make you feel,” His thumb went to her clit, drawing tight little circles over and over.

She whined, her back curling off the mattress as he kept fingering her. He loved the way she moved for him, leaning into his touch, her pussy pulsing around his fingers. He added another for good measure, stretching her out in a way that had her calling his name.

He pumped in and out of her slowly, keeping eye contact with her as she dropped his face down to her core. He looked her in the eye as he gave a slow lick up her clit, making her blush at the lewdness of it all.

“Do you like watching me baby?” He asked, voice low.

She nodded.

He did it again, licking his tongue up her slit before gently sucking on her clit, making her writhe beneath him.

“So good for me,” He praised. He slowly removed his fingers, making her moan at his absence.

He couldn’t take his eyes off her, the way the wetness pooled between her legs. He leaned forward and licked a long, slow stripe down the center of her core. Her hands moved through his hair, gently encouraging him to continue. The slow strokes became quicker, he looped his hand around her thigh, tugging her closer and holding her open. He knew he was going to look sloppy after this, but he didn’t care. He wanted to taste her as if she was his last meal.

She was a quivering mess under him. He could feel her drawing closer to climax. He wanted to make her cum over and over on his tongue.

“Flip, I want you inside me,” Her hands were trying to pull him up by his hair.

“You sure sweetheart?” He asked before pressing down on her clit harder.

“Phillip please,” She whined. He couldn't have denied her if he tried.

He wiped his face on his sleeve before removing his shirt, followed by his boxers. He was painfully hard, a fact he’d been ignoring in order to focus on her. Precum dripped from his tip in anticipation. She reached for his cock, giving him a few pumps that made him groan in relief. She lined him up with her cunt, letting him feel how wet he’d made her.

“Ready?” He whispered.

“Ready,” She pulled him into a kiss as he began to push into her.

He thought he saw stars as she pulsed around him. He slowly thrust into her inch by inch until his cock was absolutely swallowed.

“God you’re so tight,” He groaned against her lips.

“Flip you feel so good,” She kissed him again. “Fuck, I love your big cock,”

“Yeah, you love it baby?” He pulled out slowly and thrust into her again, making her gasp.

“Yes!”

That was all he needed to hear, his hips bucked into her hard, plunging his cock as deep as it could go. He let her hold on to him as tight as she needed, her nails digging into his back. He braced his arms above her and buried his face into her neck as he fucked her hard, the headboard slamming into the wall behind them.

He brushed the head of his cock right against that spot that he knew she loved. She cried out, leg wrapping around his hips, desperately trying to draw him closer.

“Right there, oh! Rightthererightthererightthere—”

“Here?” He asked cheekily, doing it again.

“Fuuuuck, i’m so close,” She cried, head thrown back on the pillow.

“Cum for me Elle, I wanna hear you scream my name,”

He brought his hand back up to her clit, rubbing his thumb against it as he fucked into her. Her eyes rolled back as she panted. She was right at the edge, he could feel it.

“Flip!” She screamed, her whole body tensed up around him.

He was dangerously close, the fluttering of her pussy bringing him right up to the edge.

“Elle,” He grunted before his hips stuttered and he spilled into her.

Eventually, the hold she had on his body loosened and she un-tensed. He slid out of her and laid down next to her, holding her against his chest. She guided his face to hers and kissed him softly.

“I love you,” She whispered.

“I love you too,” He whispered back, looking deep into her big brown eyes. “So much,”

“You’re a big sap under all that sarcasm aren’t you officer?” She teased, nuzzling her nose to his.

“Only for you, Trouble,” He smiled.

--------

NOTES

Dialogue between klan members taken as best I can from the movie, I refuse to write out racial slurs. I write out k*ke fully in the story because, well, I’m Jewish.

The origin for the slur k*ke has a few different theories

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victor-v · 4 years

Text

so, i finished reading call down the hawk, in a very turbulent way.

on one hand it feels like coming home. the raven cycle was a breaking point for me in many ways, and i hope this serie too. i always miss blue and gansey.

but also it feels different, like the writing was improved, like the story was improved, like the characters were improved. so many more female and queer main characters! i no longer hate adam, hes much more expressing and needless to say i would die for declan, the character development is amazing.

idk im sure im gonna love this trilogy, stiefvater bitch well fucking done, sometimes i forget you are that good. (spoilers and random thoughts under the cut)

-ronan's comebacks belong to an edgy 13 years old i swear

-"ronan missed him like a lung" im dead

-well lynch isn't it hypocrite from you to be bothered by matthew's dubstep music

-he fell in love at first fucking sight

-can you believe this guy thinking about hands and rolled sleeves and longing and yearning

-"life was messy until you were in your twenties" are you fucking sure because more of a mess than ever and im halfway through it already

-theres definitely a huge vicious and vengeful aesthetic here. huge. it's like victor vale will jump out of a door in any minute.

-is matthew really human, if he only can be cheerful?

-maggies power to create eerie places and situations is outstanding

-i love declan lynch. im sorry ronan, i love him

-declan gets furious at ronan for giving away a name and zip code but instantly slides his phone number to this fucking skilled girl mmmmmm weak from you

-the dreamed of you text is a kick on the chest

-gansey and blue's interactions are just too soothing

-my existence feels like walking non stop through the barn's security system

-damn the museum date

-i like this version of adam, actually expressing himself, in an uncomplicated way. i envy it.

-hes....... baby sitting the mint plant this is too soft to handle

-how do you go from soft af to anxiety made words in one page jfc

-i would die for the red haired girl

-lindenmere this, lindenmere that, but how can you get over your cabeswater forest?

-new favourite expression brought to you by ronan lynch: "what, as the kids say, the fuck?"

-i love the motherfucking lynch brothers i love them

-she unapologetically went "im gonna paint you like one of my french girls"

-oh i wish i was a cloud, avoid conversations, thunder a little

-hes so open about adam now, it's amazing

-writers go so often to parentless and family-less characters bc they don't have to deal with a lot of stuff

-if the character called neil from the next books belong to the mob im gonna lose my shit

-"i had another forest" is such a sad line

-this book is 500 pages of ronan being a disney prince

-a disney prince who materializes guns and immediately shot, so you don't forget he's both soft and sharp as fuck

-blues name on his phone is sargento i can't

-something is happening to adam. bitch pick up the goddamn phone.

-it turned into some kind of eerie steven universe

-WHERE. THE SHIT. IS. ADAM JFC

#call down the hawk #cdth #the dreamer trilogy #tdt #ronan lynch #my thoughts #literature

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madamsixx · 4 years

Text

Beyond The Leather Chapter 28: I Want To Be Your Boyfriend

I was out shopping for gifts to buy for Tommy and Heather's wedding. I didn't know what would be a good gift. I mean I always thought to myself what do you buy someone who already has everything? I looked around in a jewelry shop and settled on a his and her watch.

I haven't spoken to Lisa since we had our falling out. I really missed her and our friendship. Maybe later on I will call her. I called Slash today because I wanted to talk to him about Nikki. He said he will pick me up with Duff. Nikki's call last night really got to me. I wasn't able to sleep at all and I feel like such a crappy person for how I treated him. But in my defense I'm just trying to keep my distance from the drugs. But as Lisa pointed out every body is doing. Slash is doing it and I'm meeting up with him today.

I walked outside the store and saw Duff pull up on the side. "Hey Mani your right on time." He says looking at his watch. I got up and ran into the car. The smell of wet socks and weed hit my nose right away.

"Jesus this car stinks." I say as I'm getting in and plugging my nose. "Whine down the windows."

"Well princess Iman you can always walk to our place." Slash laughs sarcastically. "So what did you get Tommy and his wife?"

"I just got his and her watches. I couldn't think of anything else." I shrugged.

"So what's on your mind doll?" Slash asks.

"Well last night Nikki called me and he sounded really paranoid. He said there were intruders in his home hiding in his closet, his washing machine, and even under his bed." I said with a worried voice.

The boys looked at each other and started laughing. "Iman look theres nothing to worry about he'll be fine." Slash laughed.

"No Slash theres nothing to laugh about. I was really scared for him. I mean he called me for a reason. And ok in London when he nearly overdosed he ask Andy McCoy from Hanoi Rocks to bring him to my hotel room."

"Oh did he now." Duff smiled." So what else did you guys do in your hotel room?" They both started laughing again.

"Saul." I grumbled. "Ok ok geez Mani when did you become such a prude." He groaned. "Look Sixx likes you and clearly he trusts you if he's running to you every time he has a problem. And to be honest what's there not to like about you. Your a good person when your not following what your manager is telling you to do."

"What's that suppose to mean?" I hissed.

"It means you need to live a little. You need to break out of the shell she's keeping you in. And your mommy dearest isn't here so you don't need to report to her like your a soldier and she's your commander." Duff buds in.

"Um who told you about me and my moms relationship?" I questioned Duff.

It goes silent in the car.

Slash takes a cigarette out of his pocket and lights it up. "The point is." He laughs hesitantly. "You need to live. Were going out tonight and your coming."

"Ok but I'm only staying-"

"Iman shut the fuck up! Your staying out till what ever time we tell you too!" Slash yelled.

We finally pull up to a complex it was really small. We got out of the car and walked into there home. Again I was hit with the smell of weed, booze, and sweat. Izzy was passed out on the couch and Steven was snorting up coke off of the table.

"Oh shit Mani what the fuck?" He looked at me shocked. "No one told me you were coming. I would have cleaned up." He looked at the boys.

"Hey Steven." I walked over and hugged him.

The place was filthy there were dirty dishes piled up in the sink, half eaten food was scattered on the table, the walls were peeling, and there were clothes everywhere. How could any one live like this.

"So wheres Axl?" I asked. "He's in his room. He's a bit pissed for some reason so don't bother him." Steven warns.

"Ok." I look down at the so called chair that they had in there living room. I didn't want to be rude but at the same time I did. I cringed when I saw a roach run into the inside of the cushion.

"Sit." Duff got up and pushed me onto the couch making me squeal and get up fast in fear that the roach got on me.

"What... what happened." Izzy woke up in panic. The boys started laughing and I was aggravated.

"Say while your here we need a womans touch. Can you clean up the kitchen and cook something for us." Slash asked kicking his feet up on the table while smoking another cigarette.

"Seriously." I laugh humorously. "I came for advice and your asking me to clean up and cook for you?" I crossed my arms.

"The advice you got in the car." Duff spoke up. "So you have to repay us back by at least cleaning the kitchen and cooking something for us." Duff walked over to the fridge and grabbed a beer.

I groaned and walked over to the kitchen. I opened the fridge and noticed there were no groceries in there for me to even cook anything.

"It would help if you guys had groceries." I pointed out.

"Go buy some we'll still be here. Plus were going out tonight. So when we pick you up, bring the groceries with you." Slash laughed.

I scoffed and started heading for the door.

"Uh doll." Duff spoke up. I turned to look at him. "The kitchen isn't finished being cleaned. Even princesses have to do dirty work." He laughed.

Ugh ass holes. I walked back to the kitchen and started cleaning it up for them. Don't ask me why?

Later on at night...

I started getting ready for the night I was going to have out with Guns. I was hoping that Lisa would be there too seeing as there was something going on between her and Axl. And well also I didn't want to be the only girl tagging along.

I put on a silver short dress and put my hair up in a pony tail. I wore matching silver stelletoes and put a small black jacket over my shoulders to finish up my look. Slash said we were going to the Rainbow. At first I was hesitant because Tamara had told me never to go back there again. And here I was getting ready to go there again. I called the office were Tamara was and told her that I would be out with Lisa. She expected me home by 11. I don't know if Slash would approve but theres nothing I can do.

I grabbed my little wrist purse and the groceries bags I promised to buy and headed downstairs. I waited in the lobby until I heard a knock on the door. I saw Slash waving for me to come out. I headed over to him.

"Here are your groceries." I said with a sarcastic voice holding the bags up.

"Thanks doll I'll put those in the trunk." Steven got out of the car and took the groceries from me and put them in the trunk. I got into the car and we took off.

"That's is not an outfit for the Rainbow Iman." Slash chuckled.

"Well that's too bad." I hiss. This dress was made more for a modeling event. But im choosing to wear it at the Rainbow.

"You are certainly going to get picked up by a fellow at the Rainbow." Izzy piped up putting his arms around my shoulder.

"I am not talking to any guys there and I hope they don't talk to me." I warn.

We got to the Rainbow and the boys were already a mess. They got drunk, did drugs, were loud, and grabbing girls left and right. But im not here to judge. But places like this were not my scene. And being here with out any girlfriends or friends was awkward. Especially because I don't drink alcohol or snort drugs. So I just sat randomly at the bar looking at people drunk or high.

"What's a pretty little thing like you doing in a raunchy place like this?"

I turned around to see a guy or could be a girl with wild long hair and plump lips looking at me. "I...I'm sorry what?" I stuttered.

"You don't belong in a place this." He leaned closer to me smiling.

"What ever." I scoffed drinking my cranberry juice and turning away from him.

He chuckled and got up to walk in front of me. "I meant that with no disrespect. I just mean if I was a guy taking you out I would take you to the most extravagant restaurant there is around here." He smiled looking me up and down.

"I'm not into fancy restaurants. And I'm here with my friends. Guns n Roses." I rolled my eyes.

"Oh shit really? I love those guys." He flipped his hair. "I watched them play a couple times down at the Troubadour."

"Are you a rock star?" I asked with raised brows.

"Not yet but I'm gonna be. And when I do become one and I'm making shit loads of cash. I'm going to take you out on a date." He spoke softly.

I scoffed, "I don't think so." I say with attitude and turn away from him again.

He chuckled and walked closer to me. "I think so. I'm a gentleman and ladies such as your self deserve gentleman's." He signaled for the bartender to come to us.

"I don't have a lot but how much is her drink?" He asked the bartender.

"No you don't have to!" I wave my hands.

"$5.75." The bartender spoke. He placed the money down on the table and the bartender took it.

"I could have payed for it myself." I looked at him with annoyance.

"I said I was a gentleman." He smiled.

He's actually really cute.

"My names Sebastian... Sebastian Bach." He smiled.

"Iman Darlington." I smiled back.

"God I hope I see you again." He took my hand and gave me a sweet kiss on the back of it.

I felt like I had butterflies in my stomach. He walked out of the Rainbow with his long hair blowing in the wind. Lord help me.

2:34 am

The boys dropped me back home and I couldn't wait to take off my heels and get undressed. I tip toed to Tamara's room and noticed she wasn't home. I was startled when I heard the phone ring. I walked back to the living room to answer it.

"Hello!"

"You were suppose to be back at the condo for 11!" She snapped.

I sighed. "I'm sorry I went out with Lisa and ended up seeing Slash. We came back late."

"Iman can't you make better friends. I mean really. Use your break to hang out with Rachel. Hopefully some of her stuck up attitude can rub on you." "Anyways I wont be back till tomorrow morning around 10. I can call Jess if you want her to-"

"No I'm good I don't need a babysitter Tammi."

"Ok alright honey call me if anything. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Ok good night." I hung the phone up walking away to my room when I heard it ring again.

"Tammi I said I was ok." I raised my voice.

"Mani."

I paused for a second hearing Nikki's voice. I was hoping he wasn't a paranoid mess today again.

"N...Nikki are you alright?"

"Can you please come over?" His voice sounded shakey.

"To your home? I asked.

"Yes."

"Nikki it's late I can't"

"I need you. Please!" He cried.

"Give me your adress?" ____

The car drove up to the front gate of the house. I couldn't see the house properly because all the lights were off and it was night time. I whined the window down in the back seat and pressed the buzzer.

"Who is it?" What do you want?" He sounded paranoid.

"It's me Nikki. Its Mani." I replied hesitantly.

The gates than opened and we drove in. I told my driver to wait for me because I wasn't going to be long. I got out of the car and headed up his stone steps. I knocked on the door several times but there was no answer. I twisted the door knob and to my pleasure the door was unlocked. I let my self in and the house was dark except for a little light that was beaming through one room.

I walked around the house. It was a single level home and I noticed there three bedrooms and two bathrooms. The house was interior decorated with red velvet hangings, gothic furniture, antiques and gargoyles that loom at you out of the darkness. It was creepy being in here.

I walked towards the light that was coming out of one of the rooms. I slowly opened the door and saw Nikki. He was holding his pillow sobbing listening to his answering machine. I walked closer to him and listened to the machine play two messages.

BEEP

Frankie this is your mom. I know that your busy being a big star and all. I'd just really like to talk to you sometime call me back.

BEEP

You must have gotten the selfish gene from your father. This is selfish what your doing. I just... I just miss you frankie. Talk to me please. Dammit frankie.

End of Messages

It was his mom, my heart was aching for him. I walked to the answer machine and deleted both of the messges.

"Don't listen to a single thing that she says Nikki. It's not worth it she's not worth it. She's not worth crying over." I calmly spoke.

I moved and sat down beside him and started brushing his hair with my fingertips. I felt guilty for the way I treated him when I was in Italy. I could tell now that he was a very hurt an lonely person. I didn't want to just leave him here by himself.

"Why the fuck did you come?" He sneered.

"Because you asked me too Nikki." I snapped back at him.

He scoffed. "So now all of a sudden you care about me?"

I furrowed my brows. "Nik I always cared about you." I whispered.

"No one cares about me!" He raised his voice. "Not my mom, not my dad, not my band mates. And you especially!" He says sobbing and squeezing his pillow tighter.

"Nikki I do care about you, that's why I came when you called. That's why in London when you nearly overdosed I took care of you. I care about you so it scares me." I mumble and look down at the bed.

He lifted himself up on his elbows and looked at me with his piercing green eyes that had tears all over them.

"What scares you?" He asks with confusion.

I stay silent and just stare at the sheets not wanting to look at him. He leaned and shuffled closer to me. He lifted my chin up with his finger for me to look at him. He leaned closer to face me with his lips barley brushing mine.

"What scares you princess?" He asks again.

"How I feel about you." I breathlessly reply.

He leans forward and kisses my lips. He wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me on the bed with our lips still together and lays me down beside him. I kick off my flats and pull my lips away from him catching my breath. He brushes the side of my face with his thumb.

"Mani." He whispers.

"Yes." I reply.

"I want to be your boyfriend."

#motley crue #nikki sixx #vince neil #tommy lee #mick mars #thedirt #model #chanel iman #bwwm wmbw

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