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drakenology · 3 years

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their s/o has kinky curly hair with Bakugo, Denki, Midoriya and Todoroki

author’s note: hey so i smoked a lot of weed and tried to do my hair afterwards and I quit so now I’m writing about kinky hair because I have a mixture of 3c and 4c hair and detangling is not poggers. Like it takes an hour to detangle my hair... I don’t have the energy for this rn. But even though it’s a fuck ton of work to take care of natural hair it’s still gorgeous and beautiful and strong and all of the fucking above. Shout out to all my kinky haired girlies. And of course shout out to my beautiful black queens. I see you boo! <3

warnings?: fluff, swearing and mentions of sexual activity (yeah, this one aint nasty... that’s the next post. shhh!) ALL CHARACTERS AGED UP 18+

Bakugo

not gonna lie this mf ignorant as fuck

hates that you take so long to do your hair

but loves watching the process?

“What’s that stuff?” “What does it do?”

educates himself for your future babies

he likes a challenge so why wouldn’t he figure out how to properly take care of curly hair?

offers to do your hair sometimes

sometimes does it better than you do?

thinks you’re a fucking goddess.

i am a firm believer that bakugo LOVES sistas ok??

This morning is particularly stressful. You had already broken a comb or two trying to do your hair last night. So when you went to bed thinking that your hair was gonna turn out amazing you can imagine your shock when it didn’t turn out right. Well, as your taking down your twists, you see that your hair didn’t dry all the way. You try everything you can to salvage your style; you pick it, try and diffuse it but you’re still unsatisfied with the look. You sigh and just tie it up in two afro puffs. You lay your edges carefully and do some light makeup. Suddenly, you hear the bathroom door fly open to reveal your boyfriend Bakugo staring at you.

“So that’s what’s taking you so damn long.” Katsuki says leaning against the door frame. He was going to come in and yell at you to hurry up but with the way you looked all dressed up he was completely thrown off and blown away. You were wearing a bright yellow sundress that trailed down to your ankles. It hugged your body and flowed out towards the bottom of the dress. The bathroom smelled like your hair products; tropical and fruity smells smothering his nostrils. You were like a goddess standing before him. And he couldn’t take his eyes off of you.

“Dammit, Katsuki wait a damn minute. I’ll be out in a second.” You said, adding the finishing touches to your face. Katsuki walks over to you and leans up against the kitchen counter to watch you finish your makeup.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful.” he said as he stared at your glistening mahogany skin. You tried your best not to giggle at his stares as you turn to look at him.

“You ready to go?” You ask, feeling a little flustered as he ran his hands up and down your hips, stopping at your ass as he cupped it with both hands. Katsuki plants a kiss on your soft, plush lips and shook his head.

“I’d hate to waste that outfit.. but now I don’t wanna even go out. I wanna fuck you instead.” He says as he kisses your neck. OOOOWEEE

Denki

my cute little idiot...

you had to remind him a lot to not touch your hair (it fucks up your style!)

had to explain what “shrinkage” was

asked once “WOAH IS THAT ALL YOUR HAIR???” making you get to cussin’

very infatuated with everything about your hair though. poor thing didn’t know no better until now

plays in your hair anyway when you’re cuddling

wants to do your hair for you but every time you let him it turns out a mess.

loves the way your hair smells when you put your products in it

lowkey wishes he had curly hair too

obsessed with you..

“‘Nari? How do I look?” You ask as you turn away from you vanity to look at your goofy boyfriend who’s playing video games and sitting on the bed in front of you. He paused his game to look at you and immediately turned bright red.

“Wow..” He said, completely amazed. You had your hair in flexi-rods; after you took them down your natural hair cascaded down to your shoulders in heaps and mounds of thick luxuriousness. He loved that your hair framed your face so well and the lovely smell coming from you intoxicated him.

“You’re so pretty, Y/N.” Denki smiles.

You giggle and shake your hair in the mirror, loving how your hair turned out. You put on some lip gloss and stood up to walk over to your full body mirror to pose in front of it. Damn, you looked good! You were feeling yourself for sure and Denki just couldn’t help but stare. He watched you pose in the mirror, playfully wiggling your ass and flipping your hair around. His eyes met your curvaceous body; the jeans you wore hugging your form graciously. The top you wore accentuated your cocoa skin so damn good that it appeared to Denki that you were glowing from within. What a beautiful fucking woman.

He stands up and walks behind you, wrapping his arms around you as he stared at your gorgeous visage in the mirror.

“How’d I get so lucky?” He asked, enamored by your beauty. He plants a kiss on your shoulder as you giggle and embrace him. 🥺🥺🥺🥺

Todoroki

was kinda ignorant to black culture and hair styles but after your careful explaination he’s fully informed and loves every bit of you

buys you all them expensive natural hair products (trust me.. they aint cheap)

Watches you do your hair

loves when you wear box braids, pulls on them during sex sometimes if you’re too fucked out to care (oop)

smells your hair when you’re sleeping (not in a creepy way I promise)

Doesn’t tolerate racism and will beat the shit out of anyone who tried it with you. Period.

loves your complexion, thinks you look scrumptious in yellow (yellow looks GREAT on black people ok???)

Todoroki’s favorite time of year was the winter. He loved the sweaters, the hot chocolate and more importantly you can finally wear your natural hair out. Since hotter months make your hair sweat out when you straighten it, you usually keep it in braids or locs. But come winter time, you try and wear your natural hair when you can since winter months can be drying to your curls sometimes. You had spend the day (yes it’s a fucking day long process.. for me anyway) taking down your braids while sitting on the couch watching daytime T.V while Shoto was out working. After everything was out, you showered and washed your hair, sighing as the warm water and shampoo soothed and cleansed your scalp carefully. You step out of the shower and comb out your hair while it’s still wet. You do your normal routine and fluff out your curls with an afro pick and smile at your new growth. Unbeknownst to you, Todoroki had been watching the process from start to finish as he was sitting on the bed next to your vanity. You thought he was asleep since he liked sleeping in on Sundays so you were surprised when he got up and kissed you on the cheek, admiring your natural beauty.

“You truly are the most gorgeous person I’ve ever seen, Y/N. I’m so lucky.” He gushed. You giggled and kissed him on his lips, thanking him for the compliment.

“So, what you do want to do today, beautiful?”

Deku

When he met you he wanted to know everything about you

Secretly took notes 👀 has a notebook with your name on it with everything that has to do with you including your hair

Studies you and does your hair exactly like how you do it

Tries to impress you by coming up with new styles to try even though some of them are a bit crazy lookin

Loves you till the death of him

Very very sweet about helping you with your hair when you’re too tired to take care of it sometimes 🥺

You had a long, stressful and exhausting day. You spent all day at the hospital taking care of patien after patient nonstop with damn near no breaks in between. You had resorted to pulling your beautiful curls back and away from your face from all the sweating and running around the hospital, leaving stray curls hanging out. You were always a prim and proper girl almost never seen with your hair unkempt so when you returned home with your hair in a messy low bun, Midoriya knew what was up. He watched as you greeted him weakly and plopped on the couch next to him, laying on his lap and almost falling asleep.

“Rough day?” He ask. You almost burst into tears when you hear your boyfriend ask you about your day. It was rough and frustrating. You were just glad you were finally home so you can relax and try and forget about the taxing day. You sigh as Midoriya rubbed small circles into you back and undid the messy bun you had lazily tied hours before returning home.

“You just relax, princess. I’ll take care of you, ok?” He says lifting you up from his lap and carrying you to the bathroom. He sat you on the sink and put your hair in two braids for you so you could take a shower. He kissed your forehead and hummed sweet I love yous into your ear as you smile and kiss his nose. You loved that he was always so gentle with you, never hesitating to help you when you need it.

“I’ll make us something to eat. Pick out a movie for us to watch, okay? I don’t care if it’s something we’ve seen 100 times. Tonight is all about you.”

🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

#bnha fanfiction #bnha imagines #bnha smut #bnha x reader #bnha bakugo katsuki #bnha bakugo x reader #bnha bakugou #bnha headcanons #bnha midoriya x reader #bnha todoroki x reader #bnha denki

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forthehpfanboys · 4 years

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Unexpected But Accepted

Pair: George Weasley x Reader x Fred Weasley: he/him.

Summary: Fred and George have been driving you bonkers. You try to get away for five minutes but find out they’re arguing over you. You snap when you see it happen right in front of you and punish Fred for sass. Basically, you fuck George, then suck off Fred.

Warnings: SMUT (MDI), poly, dirty talk, bondage, probably took this too far, oops, swears, way too long and probably not good.

Notes: Requested! Hope you enjoy!

~DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE~

Your back pressed against the wall, your chest heaving with quick breaths leaving your lips. The small room was quiet and dark, allowing you to hear the pair of rushing footsteps that’d been chasing you for the past 10 minutes come down the hall. You covered your mouth, trying to hide your panting breaths into the skin as the steps came closer and closed your eyes in hopes of not being found in the small broom closet. Suddenly, one of your chasers spoke up, causing you to go rigid against the wall.

“Do you see him?” One spoke up while a sigh was released from the other.

“No. How did he disappear?”

You tried to sink deeper into the darkness without making a peep. Godric, if they found you, you’d never hear the end of it. You just wanted some peace and quiet.

“I don’t understand! Is there a hidden room we haven’t discovered?”

“I highly doubt it, Georgie. Let’s be real.”

“So should we split up?”

“Probably best if we just head to class.” Heavy footsteps trailed down the hallway, voices fading more with each step.

“Since when do you care about grades?”

“I don’t. Come on. We might bump into him on the way.”

You didn’t step out of the broom closet until you were 10,000 percent sure they’d left, allowing you to let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding. Shutting the door behind you, you leaned against it, wincing to yourself when your head smacked against the wood alittle harder than you intended. You didn’t like hiding from them, but you didn’t have much choice.

The two redheads had been acting differently lately and it’s been taking a toll on your mental health lately. You couldn’t have five minutes alone without them almost tearing eachother apart for your attention and, honestly, you just needed a break. Or maybe food. You haven't been able to eat in peace because of the twins antics. Hermione and Harry would bring you food while Ron, the forever charming redhead, laughed at your demise.

You’ve tried talking to them about what’s going on, but they always brush you off and ask if you wanna go do something somewhere and drag you away anyway. It wasn’t that they were being creepy or anything, it was just overwhelming you and you needed some serious (Y/n) Time.

It almost felt like they knew something you didn’t and it was frustrating beyond comprehension. Sure, you and the twins were close but fuck, it was almost like they made a bet to torture or something along those lines. Maybe it was a prank?

What you didn’t know is that you were kinda right. A couple days before this specific one, the twins made a bet after learning two truths that changed a few things within their brotherly bond. Truth one was how George's feelings for you changed from friend to lover. The second truth was how Fred's feelings for you changed in the exact same manner. The bet resolved over you, of course, and how they’d win you. More specifically, whichever twin managed to win your feelings, won the bet and you were the prize.

You looked both ways, checking the hallway to make sure it was empty before abandoning the hiding spot with a feverous sprint. Your footsteps echoed down the empty halls, your robes flapping behind you. You proceeded to multitask. You ran down the intertwining halls while debating on going to class or hiding away in your dorm. In the end, your feet decided for you. Before you knew it, you were sprinting up the moving staircase up to the Fat Lady.

“Cherry top.” You spoke quickly before she even had the chance to open her mouth. You ignored her grumble on how kids used to care about her singing and focused on walking through the empty room. You plopped yourself down on the couch facing gently crackling fire. A quiet sigh left your lips, hands going through your hair. “What changed?” you whispered to yourself.

“You really have no clue?”

The voice made you jump and turn around seeing.. No one? You felt the couch sink further closer to the ground and you were met with another redhead, allowing you to relax back against the plush cushions.

“Godric, Gin, you scared me.” You let out a meek chuckle and ran a hand over your eyes. “What’re you doing here anyway? Shouldn’t you be with The Golden Trio or something?”

“Or something.” She cast a smile in your direction. “I heard what’s going on between you and the two idiots. Figured you could use some help sorting them out.” The youngest Weasley tucked her feet in and turned toward you fully, the smile turned into a grin.

“I’d adore help.”

“I thought so.” She let out a chuckle. “Rumor has it they have a bet going. Lee overheard them arguing over it and who was winning.” Ginny’s grin turned into the classic Weasley Side Smirk. The words rolled around in your head, your nose scrunching in confusion. Arguing? They never argue. You tried to come up with a time where they actually fought and only mock up arguments made themselves clear. “People are saying it’s over a specific absolutely oblivious Gryffindor Quidditch player, others say it’s over who can burn the school down first-” Ginny laughed, shaking her head a little as she spoke.

“Quidditch player? Oh- Angelina, right? Yea, it’s pretty obvious they’ve been pining after her for a while. “ You forced out with a very small and very fake smile across your lips. You knew how the two pranksters looked at her. It only made sense they’d be after her, she was smart, great at the game and a looker. You swallowed hard. You were just the Keeper for Gryffindor, not a chaser or a seeker, just kept to the goals. It didn’t feel as special as the others. “But I don’t see how this involves me.” You could’ve sworn you heard her mumble ‘oblivious’ again, but she spoke up before you could even question it.

“So, you really don’t know?”

“Don’t know what?”

“Oh my Godric, you really don’t know?”

“Know what, Gin?”

“I thought they would’ve told you!” She looked down at her fingers, playing with her nail. Her long hair fell around her face like a curtain, no doubt hiding the grin. She was ignoring you on purpose.

“Gin, so help me, I will shatter your knee caps. Tell. Me.” You threatened, giving her a strong glare. Your glares could kill. Students and teachers alike knew your temper was not something to trifle with and made up for 99 percent of your detentions. You’re not one to throw fists first, but you definitely don’t hold your tongue. While the castle got nervous around you and you ralmost famous temper, the Weasleys did not give one flying fuck. They’d tease you until you die because they all knew you had a sweet spot for them.

“I mean, you're their best friend and you don’t know. Damn, that’s so.. Bad, yet just like them, wow.” She moved the hair away from her eyes. “Ok. Listen, the twins don’t fancy Angie, (Y/n). I think you need to consider both sides of the spectrum.” She paused, giving you an expecting look before sighing and going on. “They’re bisexual. Came out last year.”

“Oh, haha. Really funny.” You stood up, moving away from the couch to one of the towering glass windows. Pressing your weight against the brick wall, you gazed out, watching students rush to classes and others just goofing off. Ginny knew of your crush on the two red-heads, but she didn’t have to joke about it like this. “Now isn’t the time for jokes, Gin. “

“I’m serious, (Y/n). Think about it. They’ve been all over you, everyone has noticed.” Ginny walked over to you, resting a hand on your shoulder. She could tell you were gonna be on the fence no matter what the words, so she just sighed and retracted her hand. “I’d never joke about this. It could very well be you the identical idiots are drooling over.”

“They're really bi?” You turned to her, your eyes sparkling with hope.

“Honestly, (Y/n). Would I lie to you?” She snickered patting your back before heading over to the portrait hole. “Really, think about it. It'll make sense with time, i'm sure.” With that, she popped through the hole in the wall. With a final creak of the portrait shutting, you were left alone in silence, rolling her words in your head.

Ok, maybe it did make a small, tiny, miniscule bit of sense, but why didn’t Fred and George tell you? You sighed, your hot breath fogging up the glass. Maybe they didn’t want you to know. Maybe they thought you’d call them freaks or weirdos, but you’d never. You remember when you came out to them as (s/p) and they didn’t judge you at all.

You wanted to scream when you heard the creak of the entrance opening again. For fucks fucking fuck, even without the twins there you couldn’t get alone time. You needed to think, especially with the new info Ginny told you.

“There ya are, (Y/n)! We’ve been looking for you everywhere!”

Your eyes focused on the reflection in the glass pain, a groan leaving your lips at the sight. Of course. Speak of the devil and he shall appear.

“Hey.” Your voice was stiff, revealing how you felt deep down. Frustration and irritation. You noted how the redheads both stepped closer to you. One gently pulling you by the hand to sit down in a chair not too far from the window while the other taking the seat across you, shooting you a soft smile.

“Ok. What’s wrong?” Fred spoke, his back slouching in the chair, his arms crossing over his chest. George was standing next to you with a cocked eyebrow, a soft smile on his face.

“Yeah, we know you (N/n). What’s going through that pretty head of yours?” George ran his hand through your hair before squatting next to your seated form. You could vaguely smell his cologne. You turned to George, missing the glare from Fred.

“I.. Just stressed, is all. Exams coming and not getting enough sleep.” It wasn’t fully a lie, so.

“Are you sure you’re not sick or something?” Fred stood up and walked over, the back of his hand reaching out to press against your forehead. It was halted when a matching pale hand grabbed his wrist.

“Fred, I think if he was sick, he would’ve said something along those lines. It’s just stress.” George’s voice held a barely noticeable amount of venom as his grip tightened ever so slightly on his older brothers wrist. The death glares they exchanged as Fred whipped his hand away from his younger twins grip had you raising an eyebrow in question.

“So you're a doctor now?”

“Can you stop with the attitude? I’m so sick of it!”

“You’re sick of it? I’m sick of you! I was just gonna check if he had a fever.”

“Don’t touch him, Fred.”

“I was just checking if he was ok!”

“Well, you don-!”

“Ok and I’m putting an end to this.” You stood up and shoved your way between them, pushing them away as you stepped forward. “What the hell has been going on with you two? This is- Godric- you guys are driving me nuts.” Before they knew what was happening you were ranting. “Seriously! I can’t even shower without you guys trying to be there! Like just- What is going on? This week feels like a year and I’m drowning in Wealsey cologne and fancy candy from Honeydukes-” Your hands were running through your hair sporadically, which the twins both thought was adorable, but knew now wasn’t the time.

Fred and George looked at each other as you went on.

“Please. Just- It hurts so much to see you too fight and it makes me want to punch something- literally anything- because you guys are my everything! Just fucking talk to me! Please.” Your chest was heaving when you finally finished, your entire body getting warm.

“Everything?” They turned to you, everything matching up insync.

“..What?” You felt even hotter than before. Wait, did you actually call them your everything?

“Aw, don’t playdumb now, (N/n)! You said we’re your everything.”

“You’re hearing things, Fred.”

“Hmm, no. I don’t think we are.” They stepped closer.

“Ah, well, I.. never said that, Georgie. Very simple.”

“Do we have to go back to fighting over you?” Fred joked as they separated and began to advance toward you. The twins trapped you between them, one on both sides. George rested his arm on your shoulder while Fred shot him a teasing smirk, his nose scrunching up. “Cause we’ll do it, princey, don’t tempt us.”

You don’t know what came over you, maybe it was your built up tension or your anger issues, but you grabbed them by the ties of their uniform and yanked them over to the staircase leading up to the dorms. You pressed them against the wall just before the stair cases and trapped them there with your body.

“Do it and fucking see what happens, Weasley.” One hand tangled their ties together, your other hand coming to press against the wall by George’s head. The boys’ faces erupted into a blush, causing you to smirk. “You two have been driving me absolutely nuts these past few days. I dare you to push one more button.” You tried not to act surprised by how your voice dropped. Fred’s tongue swiped across his suddenly dry lips and George turned even redder.

“Oh yea, (L/n)? What are you gonna do? Give us a stern talking too?” Fred smirked, his eyes trailing down your figure, then back up to your eyes. He was challenging you. You got closer to his face, your voice dripping even lower.

“I could tie you to the bed and fuck your brother right infront of you, make you watch him get what you oh so desperately crave.” Your head was cocked to the side, your eyes dark with something Fred had never seen before.

“Well, that was unexpected-” George all but whispered before he swallowed thickly, his hand coming up to cover his face.

“But damn, so accepted. Who knew he was so dirty?” Fred groaned out. His hand wrapped around the back of your neck to pull you into a kiss. You released the ties and favored running your fingers through his hair, grabbing onto a few locks and giving it a tug.

“Should we confess or should you guys just keep kissing?” George spoke up from the sidelines, fidgeting with his hands. Fred separated from you and got him the classic Weasley Side Smirk.

“I think he knows now, Georgie, come on!” Fred yanked his tie free and slipped free from you and proceeded to run up the steps, skipping 2 at a time. You took this time to appreciate his mile long legs. “Hope your good at keepin’ your promises, (L/n)!” He called from the top of the steps. With a laugh, you gave George a short kiss, grabbed his wrist and led the blushing redhead up the stairs.

By the time you and George came up the stairs, Fred was already trying to disrobe. I say trying because he’d given up on unbuttoning his white polo and is trying to pull the still buttoned collar over his head. Watching the older twin thrash around in the stuck shirt made George and you erupt in giggles.

“Should we help him?” George asked his laughs.

“Nah, he can figure it out himself. Besides, I wanna kiss you.” You cornered George against one of the bedposts, not caring whose bed was whose and immediately pressed your lips against his. He let out a needy moan and pulled you closer, his arms around your neck. Your hands landed on his waist as your teeth nibbled on his bottom lip. You pulled from the kiss when a second pair of arms wrapped around your waist, which you prompt slapped away. “What did I say? Get on the bed, Freddie.”

The groan that left the older twins lips was lewd, causing you to chuckle and shove him away from your back. He reluctantly laid on the bed, sprawled out like a starfish, his bulge prominent against his dark uniform. Damn, he must really want you. The idea of one of the twins drooling over you had you hardening in your pants.

“Not like that, Fred. Back against the headboard.” You spoke, gently leading George to the bed and pushing him to side down on the edge. You untied the younger twins tie and with a kiss to his nose moved to his counterpart, climbing onto the plush mattress one he obeyed. You smirked down at the redhead as you plopped yourself on his lap, causing him to groan.

“Having fun, doll?” Fred spoke as his hands instinctively moved to your hips, pulling you closer. You pulled his hands away from your waist, kissed each wrist before tying them to the headboard with his brother's tie.

“You know it, babe.” You casted him a wink. Climbing off his lap and prompt ignoring his whine, you brought your attention back to the younger twin and dragged him into a kiss. “And how are you feeling, Georgie?”

“Perfect.” His voice was soft and airy, causing you to giggle.

“Oi. Stop being cute without me.” Fred spoke up, nudging you in the side with his foot.

“Shut it. This is why you're tied up.” You smacked his foot away and pulled George onto your lap. You kissed along his neck, your fingers trailing through his hair. His hands slid from your shoulders, down your flat chest to your belt, promptly undoing it and pulling it free from the loopholes.

“Oh, please. You love my teasing.”

“I wish you gagged him with his tie.” George snickered out. He'd thrown the belt to the side and was now unbuttoning your white button up shirt.

“I’m debating on it, actually.” You laughed out. You sucked a mark on the side of George’s neck and shrugged off your shirt once it was fully undone and threw it to the side. Your hands came up to undo George's shirt, but ended up just ripping a few of the buttons free. “Fuck it, I’ll buy you new ones.” You pressed your lips to his again, your hands sliding across the bare skin. Fuck. His skin was so soft, but you could feel the muscles under it rippling with a soft moan.

“You know we have magic, right? You could’ve just spelled his clothes away.”

You let out a groan and pulled away from George's lips and glared at the older redhead. You shook your head in disapproval and tsked at him.

“You gag him, Georgie. I’m gonna finish stripping.” You stated, giving the tall redhead a slap on the bum before standing up. You watched Georgie snicker and slide Fred’s tie free.

“Wait, no. We can talk this through-” Fred was interrupted by the tie being shoved into his mouth. “I’d apologize, but I’m not sorry, Freddie. Should’ve shut your mouth. Had the chance.” Geogie patted his shoulder and scooted back. When he turned to you, he blushed a brighter red than his hair. You were lazily stroking yourself, your boxers hanging around your thighs. “Blimey-” George choked out, licking his lips.

“Like what you see?” You chuckled, stepping closer to him. He eagerly nodded his head. The boy was holding back the biggest urge to drop to his knees and suck the soul out of you. You flashed him a smirk. “Come on, then. Strip, baby,”

He rolled onto his back, lifted his legs and all but ripped himself free from his constricting jeans. The enthusiasm made you giggle. Your eyes followed along the pale skin and you wanted, oh so desperately to count the freckles sprinkled across his skin. God, he was so absolutely beautiful and it was safe to say Fred was just as beautiful.

“Merlin’s fucking beard. You’re so beautiful.” You stepped over, running your hands along his toned legs. “Godric, I should use your legs as earmuffs some time.” Your confidence grew when Fred and George both let out a whine. “Ok. Here’s what I want.” You sat him back up and leaned into his ear, your hands slowly sliding up his thighs. You licked your lips when you heard the younger redheads breath hitch. “I want Freddie to have a nice view, ok?” You whispered, your hands hiking higher up his thighs before you dragged your nails down the skin gently. “Go to the foot of the bed, spread your legs and lean over to put your hands on the mattress.”

George slipped out from beneath you and went to the foot of the bed. He was half bent over, legs spread and staring down at his hands on the mattress. Following him around the posts, you stood behind him and ran your hands down his toned back.

“Oh, fuck, you’re freckles go down your back-” Your voice came out breathy and light. Your eyes looked between Fred, who was whining against the tie and the twin slowly turning red.

“Is that good?” George asked, his ears tinting a bright red.

“Of course. You’re so beautiful. Does Freddie have the same patterns?” Your thumb ran over a patch of freckles.

“Yeah. He’s got these little patches of freckles everywhere.” George turned his head to look at you, a smile on his face. You couldn’t help but giggle, your hands rubbing over his globes.

“Godric, I can’t wait to see.” Your dark eyes turned to lock with Fred’s, as a dirty smirk came across your mouth. He let out a little whine, his legs shifting on the bed, trying to get some form of simulation.

“Don’t get your hopes up.” George laughed, pressing his forehead to the bed. You gave his asss a slap, causing him to whine.

“Be nice to him.” You snickered, leaning over to kiss the back of his neck whine your hand trailed down his abdomen. Your hand wrapped around his wood, his hips bucked in response. “You’re so hard.”

“Obviously.”

“Do I need to tie you up, too?”

“Oh, no sir.” His voice dripped sarcasm.

“Georgie.” You warned while pulling your hand away. You sucked on your pointer finger and brought it to his entrance, gently pushing it in. He was chewing on his bottom lip, trying to stay loose and relaxed. “Be nice.” You leaned off his back, standing up fully. Your other hand grabbed his cheek and spread it while your finger pulled back some. After spitting on your fingers,you gently slipped in a second finger. Godric, his moans were so perfect.

George was shivering. Sure, he’d played around in the shower, but damn was it better with a person, especially when that person was your crush. You prepped the bottom for what felt like hours and he was just about drooling into the sheets.

“Merlin, you really wanna be safe, don’t you.” George moaned out when you pressed your fingers against his prostate.

“Well, yeah. I don’t wanna hurt you.”

“My god, you two are so gooey it hurts.” You both turned to Fred. He had a smirk on his face. Fucker had literally pushed the tie out of his mouth. “Get to it, (L/n).”

“For fucks sake, Fred.” You chuckled out, pulling your fingers away from his entrance. You held your own dick by the base before pushing the head in gently. George pressed his cheek against the bed, a whine leaving his lips. His freckle covered hands grabbed the sheets. His knees pressed together once you pushed all the way in him. “You ok?”

Your hands hopped from his hips to wrap around his midsection once he nodded. You let out a sigh of relief and placed a few kisses on the freckles scattered across his broad shoulders.

“I wish I was getting some of that action.” Fred’s head hit the headboard. This felt like he was having a wet dream and seeing it from 3rd person.

“If you kept your mouth shut, you could’ve joined us.”

Your hips pulled back slowly, your chin resting on George’s shoulder. The gasp that left his lips when you pushed back in had you shivering. You kept up a steady pace, your bottom lip trapped between your teeth. Groans, whimpers, moans, gasps- every noise echoed in the nearly empty room. George’s hand had found his dick between his legs and was shamelessly jerking it to match your hips.

“Godric, Georgie,” your voice so close to his ear had him moaning your name, “you're so tight, baby.”

Watching you fuck into his brother had Fred licking his lips. The older redhead desperately wanted to be in George's position and he was gonna throw something if he didn’t get some attention soon. He bounced his legs in dismay. His dick was painfully hard and throbbing in his boxers.

“I’m still here-” Fred did jazz hands against the headboard.

“And I'm busy, shut it.” You spat out as you rocked into George faster, who only grew louder beneath you. Your hands gripped his hips, your nails digging into his skin as you moved. George’s hand moved faster between his legs, which were shaking harder than an earthquake.

With a gasp, George came into his fist without a warning. A cry left lips, his hips bucking between your actions and his fist as he pressed his forehead into the bed. You kept the pace up, your own orgasm just around the corner.

“Almost there, Georgie. You’re so perfect.” You cooed in his ear, your teeth gently biting the tip of the cartilage. You moaned against his neck when you finally reached your own orgasm inside him. You stayed against him for a good while, just holding his sweaty form against his body.

You slowly pulled out and chuckled as George just kinda plopped onto the bed and climbed on the plush mattress with him. You ran your fingers through his sweaty hair and kissed his head.

“You did good. Are.. Are you falling asleep?” You laughed gently, watching the man's eyelids flutter. “Adorable. Love you, Georgie.” You shook your head when he mumbled out a quick ‘love you yoo’ and almost immediately began snoring. Fred cleared his throat, getting your attention.

“Yeah, yeah, I got it.” You crawled over to him, undoing his tie. “Did you learn your lesson?” Your hand grazed over his bulge, your noses practically touching.

“You know I didn’t, baby boy.” Fred cupped your face, his calloused thumbs ran over your cheeks.

You let out a mock sigh of frustration before shaking your head back and forth. You watched his pale hands go to his belt and rip it off. He threw it off to the side before undoing his pants and simply pulling his dick out over the boxers.

“Wanna take care of this for me? I did sit and wait patiently.”

“You didn’t have much of a choice.”

“Just suck my dick, won’t you?”

The bluntness made you snort but you dropped your head down anyway.

“I guess you deserve it.” You held the base of his dick and licked across the head, looking up at him with false innocent eyes. Fred ran his hands through your hair.

“Oh, yeah. You’re amazing.”

“I haven’t done anything yet.” You said between laughs.

“So get to it, dove!”

You rolled your eyes and took the tip into your mouth, your hand moving up and down on the base. The fingers in your hair slowly tightened, grabbing as much as he could. A moan fell from his lips as his head fell back against the wooden headboard with a thud. You licked along the underside of the head. It was clear he wasn’t going to last long.

You took him down to the base, gagging on the head hitting the back of your throat and began to pull back. About half way up, Fred pushed you back down, a needy whine leaving his lips. He used the hand in your hair to control your head going up and down.

“Amazing, dolly. Absolutely perfect.” He was just mumbling under his breath while he listened to you gag and whine around his length. He licked his lips as his hand somehow tightened on your locks. “Gonna cum. Swallow it, oh please swallow it.”

Your eyes were watering by the time he came down your throat, leaving you sputtering and choking. He gently pulled you off. He reached for the closest piece of fabric, which ended up being George’s shirt, and gently wiped himself down.

“I knew there was a reason I loved you.” Fred teased as he threw the cloth and pecked your swollen lips.

“Wow. Only here for my bj skills?” You raised an eyebrow. “And here I thought we had something.” You planted a soft kiss on his lips. He suddenly reached up, holding your face as he stared into your eyes. His entire demeanor shifted to serious as he spoke. “(Y/n). I can tell you right now, me and my brother-”

“My brother and I-”

“Shut it. My brother and I,” his voice was filled with sass again, “have never, ever, ever, eevveerr felt this way about another person. We both love you, we have for a while. Granted this whole thing is super unorthodox, but we care about you.”

“It’s true.” mumbled a half asleep George as his arms snaked around your waist. You couldn’t stop the smile spreading across your lips. “I know, Ginny was right.”

“She’s always right.” They said in unison.

“Now come on, let’s snuggle.” With that, George tugged you down next to him and Fred joined you. The three of you got cozy under a blanket and slowly drifted off, enjoying the body heat of each other.

The next morning, Ginny said ‘I told you so’ more times than you could count, but that was expected, even if you didn’t want to accept it.

#fred weasley x male reader #fred weasley smut #fred weasley #Fred and George Weasley #george weasley x male reader #george weasley smut #george weasley #Fred and George x male reader #x male reader #fred weasley imagine #george weasley imagine #male reader #Ronny Writes #fic #hp male fic #hp fic

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dirty-urie · 3 years

Text

Little Brendon

Second Person

Brendon x Female Reader

PFTW Era

Fluff(ish) Oneshot

PG-13? R?

3.6k Words

Warnings In Order of Appearance: real person fic, language throughout, arguably slight smut, minor dirty talk

Author's Notes:

1. I don't know how I got this idea or what possessed me to actually write it, to be honest, but I had fun, so I guess that's all that matters.

2. Posting this in honor of the anniversary of the show I went to on the first leg of the Wicked tour, which was technically yesterday, but this fic wasn’t done yesterday, so here it is now.

“Awww, little Brendon,” you gush at the computer screen.

“Please tell me you aren’t looking at pictures of my penis,” Brendon says, walking into the room.

You laugh, rolling your eyes. “Not that your ego couldn’t use a little bruising, but no, I’m not cooing at your nudes. Merch wants you to sign off on the final photos of the Beebo plush, and look how cute he is!” You shift the computer monitor so he can see what you’re looking at.

“Why are you going through my email?”

“You always ignore emails from Merch, and I like looking at all of the new Panic designs!”

“Babe, I work ten hours a day; I don’t want to do anything I don’t have to. Merch will use whatever designs they think will sell well. They don’t actually need my approval. Those sign-off emails are just a formality.”

You pout. “I know, I know. I won’t go through your email anymore.”

“Good,” he says, relieved. "I wouldn’t want you to discover all the messages from my mistresses.”

“You’re a jackass,” you call, flipping him off as he leaves the room with a smirk.

***

“I’m gonna miss you,” you pout, leaning against the door frame to your bedroom.

He kisses your forehead and puts another pair of sweatpants in a suitcase. “You can’t wait for me to leave. You get to have the girls over, watch all your shitty movies, and you won’t have to deal with my dirty underwear or noisy video games in your nice living room.”

You take the t-shirt he’s about to pack out of his hands and throw it on the bed, pulling him into a kiss. You slip your hands under the waistband of his pants to grope his ass. You pull away. “Mhm, that’s what I thought. I don’t ever have to deal with dirty underwear because you never wear any.”

“Hey! Don’t slut-shame me! You love having such easy access to this body.” He gestures to his body with a strange flailing arm motion.

“You know what? You’re right. I can’t wait for you to leave.”

He side-eyes you. “Well, in that case, you won’t want the present I got you.” He shrugs, refolding his shirt.

Your eyes light up, and you go kiss him again. “Have I ever told you how much I love you? Because it’s a lot. Enough to justify a really nice present,” You say after he pulls away.

“That’s what I thought. I guess you’ll get your present after all. Close your eyes,” Brendon says.

You close your eyes, and he hands you something soft. You open your eyes, and it’s Brendon’s likeness in plush form. He’s wearing Brendon’s tour outfit with a gold jacket over a black tee and black leather pants.

“Little Brendon!” you exclaim, seeing the toy in your hands. “Aww, it’s even got your lips and little eyebrow scar! Thank you, babe.” You kiss him and then Little Brendon. “Now I have someone to keep me company while you’re off getting bitches on tour.”

“Oh, come on, babe,” he says, putting his hand on your shoulder and looking into your eyes, “they’re not bitches, they’re groupies.”

You smack his arm affectionately and then push him onto the bed to crawl on top of him. “Maybe you should practice for the groupies. Wouldn’t want you to kill their rockstar fantasies because you’re out of experience.”

He flips you over and rolls on top of you, nipping at your neck. “Out of experience? What, pray tell, have we been doing every day for the past two weeks, if not building my experience?” he asks with disbelief, punctuating each point with a bite or kiss. “Remember when I made you come twelve times in one hour before I let myself come? Or when we fucked on the roof of my studio when the neighbors were out of town? Or when you fucked my ass with that new toy, the one that vibrates?”

“Shit, shit, point taken,” you moan, grinding up against him while he bears down on you.

His phone pings, and he slows his hips to grab it from the side table. “Fuck, Zack’s out front. I’ve gotta go.”

You grab the front of his shirt and yank him down for a deep, dirty kiss.

He’s reluctant to pull away, but his other love is calling. Tour, that is, not Zack.

“Okay, let me up, loverboy. I’ll help bring your stuff out to the car,” you tell him.

“Thank you. Most of my instruments and stuff are already with the guys, but I’ve still got two suitcases and a backpack.”

You both stand up, and he grabs the suitcases, leaving you with the backpack. “You’re not gonna readjust, rockstar?” You ask, eyeing his tented sweatpants.

He shrugs, “My hands are full, and it’s nothing Zack hasn’t seen before.”

“You just like showing off,” you accuse, and he smirks a little and winks because you’re not wrong.

You walk him to the car and give him a final goodbye kiss. “I love you to death. Knock their socks off, babe.”

***

Without fail, the one-week mark hits you like a truck. You’ve had your fun with girlfriends, and you’ve enjoyed the peace and quiet, but your bed is empty, and it’s weighing on your chest. Even the puppies seem a little more glum without Brendon.

You feel silly, but finally, after two nights of crying yourself to sleep, you give in and grab little Brendon from your dresser and cuddle up with him.

***

Two weeks later and you and the real Brendon are half-asleep, snuggled up against each other in the nicest hotel room in Houston. You can only spend two nights with him, and you refuse to let him go for even a second more than you have to. Which he did not appreciate when he had to use the bathroom, but it’s his fault for leaving you for so long.

“Baby, I’ve got an interview, but I’ll bring back breakfast, and we’ll eat in bed, okay? I’m really sorry,” He whispers apologetically, peeling away from you.

“Don’t be sorry, it’s what you have to do to pay the bills. Can you hand me Little B? He’s in my purse,” you ask, and Brendon obliges without comment, probably just happy you’re not crying.

You fall back asleep with the little guy in your arms.

Brendon knows it’s irrational when he comes back three hours later at 8 am, and he feels a tiny twinge of jealousy at the plush you’re cuddled up with. However, he feels it is not irrational that he’s upset when he climbs into bed with you, and instead of immediately clinging to him like always, you just clutch Little Brendon harder. Almost as if protecting the toy from Brendon.

“Y/N, I’m back,” he whispers in your ear, half-hoping you’ll throw the doll on the ground and roll over to make burning hot love to him for 12 hours straight. That’ll show Little Brendon. Well, no, it won’t, he has stuffing where his brain should be, but it’ll show him on principle.

You do roll over to throw an arm across him, but you still have little Brendon tucked under your other arm.

Brendon decides to call this one a draw.

“Did you bring food?” You mumble.

“Of course, darling. I’ll do anything to spoil you. That’s one of the perks of having a driver’s license and sentience.”

“…What?”

“Nothing. I’ll get your food.”

He insists on feeding you and rubbing your feet, and letting you watch whatever you want on the hotel TV. And it’s just because he wants to take care of you while you two are together. Definitely no other reason. He certainly feels no joy at the sight of Little Brendon lying discarded on the nightstand. Point Real Brendon.

After the day of pampering, it pains you when you check the clock, and it’s time to leave. “Alright, I’ve gotta head out, B. I can’t miss my flight,” you finally say, changing from Brendon’s T-shirt into real clothes.

Brendon thinks about protesting, but he knows better. You have your own life apart from him, and he respects that.

You cram your stuff in your overnight bag and give your goodbye hugs and kisses to Brendon. Then you kiss Little B before throwing him in your purse. You think you see Brendon scowl at your new companion, but you were probably just imagining it.

***

“Surprise!” Brendon shouts as he opens the door.

“Babe! Thank god I sent the strippers home early,” you joke as he sits next to you on the couch.

“Shit, I missed the strippers?”

“You fucking goof,” you laugh, playing with his hair. “What are you doing home early?”

“Nicole needed to come home for some emergency with her house, so I figured I’d charter the plane and zip down with her and Zack to spend the night with my beautiful wife.”

“God, that must’ve cost an arm and a leg, B.”

He shrugs, “Nah, we were only in Portland anyway, and it’s easier than finding a new bassist on short notice. This way, Nicole and I can be back for the San Jose show tomorrow night, and I get a whole twelve hours at home with my girl and my puppies.”

“Oh, well, I’m glad it worked out for everyone. Especially me,” you say, shifting to sit in Brendon’s lap.

You two finish up the episode you were watching before you insist that he comes to bed because he’s overworked and jetlagged. He’s sleepy and doesn’t need that much convincing, but he tries to put up a fight anyway.

“I only get a little bit of time with you; I don’t want to spend it sleeping,” he complains.

“This is the hardest I’ve ever had to work to get you in my bed,” you respond, yanking him to his feet.

His eyes light up, and you shake your head. “No, sir. We’re not having sex. You’re getting at least seven hours of sleep in your own bed with the love of your life, and then you’re going to take a shower, make me breakfast, and give San Jose the show of their lives. You’ll literally see me again in two days when I come to the LA show.”

He bites his lip, still trying to lay the seduction on thick.

“No! Bed! Or I’m making you sleep in the guest room!”

He sighs, trudging along behind you to the bedroom.

“Um, babe, I think you forgot to kick out your mistress before I got home,” he says, gesturing to his side of the bed where little Brendon is tucked into the comforter.

You scowl playfully. “Oh, shush you. Where else should I put him while making the bed?”

“I don’t know, but letting my replacement sleep in my spot feels a little on the nose.”

“He’s not your replacement, baby.”

“Really?” Brendon asks, picking up Little Brendon and getting into bed, “because” he sniffs Little Brendon’s head, “I’m pretty sure Little Brendon is wearing my fifty dollar cologne.”

You blush, “Okay, well I take him everywhere, and I didn’t want him to smell, and it’s not like I could use any of my perfumes…” you taper off, realizing that you may have given yourself away with the ‘take him everywhere’ line.

He narrows his eyes but doesn’t say anything else before clicking out the light.

“Hey, Brendon?” You ask quietly.

“Mm?”

“Um, what did you do with Little B?”

Brendon clicks on the light. “Ah-ha! J’accuse! You’ve replaced me!”

“I just don’t want the dogs to rip him up and then leave me to clean up stuffing all morning!” You defend yourself.

“Well then, you won’t mind me putting him up on the dresser.”

“Of course, I won’t mind.”

Brendon puts Little B on the dresser and goes back to bed, so imagine his surprise when instead of waking up tangled in your arms the next morning, he’s not even touching you on the king bed. Instead, you’re hugging Little Bastard with your nose buried in his fabric hair.

Little B’s smirk taunts Brendon as he storms out of bed to make his damn wife breakfast. His damn wife.

***

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, I’m gonna come,” you whine, rubbing your hips frantically.

“Come,” he commands. “Let me see that pretty mouth fall open as you come all over our bedsheets, pretty girl.”

The angle on your clit is perfect, and the image of him getting off on your phone right along with you pushes you into bliss, and your orgasm rocks through your core. You know you’ve affected him when you hear him grunt as come rolls down his fist.

“God, babe, you’re incredible, from a completely different country, fuck, a completely different continent, you still turn me on like crazy,” he admires.

“I could say the same about you. I came so hard just from getting to hear and see you.” You tell him before accidentally dropping your phone. “Shit, sorry, my fingers are a little wet.

Brendon would normally just be admiring the soaked panties he’s getting a glimpse of, but instead, his attention is drawn between your thighs for a different reason.

“Were you getting off by humping Little Brendon?!”

“It’s not what it looks like, okay?” You say, picking up the phone. “He’s the perfect firmness, and he’s way easier to manage than a clunky pillow! It’s purely physical!”

Brendon scoffs, “I’ve bought you thousands of dollars in sex toys, and you turn to him? In our marital bed? I’m being cuckolded by polyester!”

“Brendon, it’s a stuffed animal, not the pool boy. You come back from England in three days, and you can fuck me however you want. Y’know, because of your functioning dick, tongue, and fingers?”

“Just as long as I don’t come back to find you rimming the stuffed tiger from Calvin and Hobbes,” he teases with a smile.

“Hm, is degrading Winnie the Pooh out of the question, too, then? because if that’s the case, then I’ll need to find different plans for tomorrow evening.”

He gives you a pointed look, feigning seriousness before cracking a grin. “Alright, alright, thank you for the orgasm. I’ll see you on Tuesday,” he says before blowing you a kiss before hanging up.

“That plush better count his days,” Brendon mumbles to himself before falling asleep.

***

“Do you want me to go with you to the store?” He offers.

“No, baby, enjoy some of your time at home. I’ll just bring my other husband for emotional support.” You toss Little Brendon in your purse.

“I remember when I was your emotional support at the grocery store…” Brendon starts, looking off into the distance.

“Yeah, me too, and you were terrible. You hated it. Rest assured, I’ll make you come back to the grocery store another time, but right now, I’m being nice because you just got back from tour. And you still have the dishes and the vacuuming to do.”

“Aye, aye, captain. Don’t let the paparazzi catch you smooching Little Brendon while I’m at home doing your dirty work,” he calls as you leave.

“No promises! He’s very tempting!”

***

“You never snuggle with me anymore,” Brendon pouts after you reject his advances in bed.

“It’s August, and you’re hot,” you complain, and he gives you a suggestive look. “Not that kind of hot, Casanova. I mean two minutes in, and you’re sweating all over me. It’s uncomfortable.”

“You snuggled with Little Brendon when I was gone!” He accuses.

“Yes, because I’ve grown accustomed to sleeping with something in my arms, and Little Brendon doesn’t sweat, or snore, or wake me up in the morning with his cock pressing into my thigh, or bicker with me about how I choose to sleep,” you explain, annoyed. Brendon looks genuinely upset, so you soften your face. “When the temperature isn’t in the triple digits, and we don’t literally stick together when we touch, we can cuddle. Okay?”

“Fine.”

***

“Bogart, hey buddy, look at this toy for you to chew on. Bite, bite, bite, kill,” he says, throwing Little Brendon to Bogart.

Bogart sighs and rests his head on Little Brendon like a pillow.

“First my wife and now my dog,” Brendon shouts, throwing his hands up in frustration.

“Okay, this has gone on long enough,” you tell him, alerting him to your presence in the doorframe. “Sit,” you order, pointing to the couch. “Brendon, you’re jealous of a toy,” you state bluntly.

He blushes and grabs his stuffed enemy. “It’s not about the toy,” he finally admits.

“Yeah, I didn’t think so.”

“It’s just,” he struggles to find the right words, “I love touring. I love seeing all the different cities on my days off, meeting fans, partying with different bands, and most of all playing shows.” He takes a deep breath. “But I also love you. I love waking up with you, going out to dinner, watching you get off on my thigh, and just getting to be near you. So when I have to be away from you to tour, sometimes I wonder if I made the right choice, and seeing you do the things I want to do with you with the stupid Beebo plush instead, kept bringing all of those feelings to the forefront” he confesses.

“Oh, B, of course, you made the right choice. I love you, and I miss you when you’re gone sometimes, but I love our life. I love getting my independence when you’re gone, visiting you on-tour, watching you do what you love, having super hot reunion sex. So yeah, sometimes I just wanna squeeze you and smell your cologne and kiss your little face, but I’d never want you to sacrifice your career for that,” you say. “You wanna know why I like Little B so much?”

“Because he’s so good for humping?”

“No,” you laugh, “well, yes, actually, he is. But it’s because he reminds me why I spend some nights alone and hop on dreadful red-eye flights every few weeks and have to hook up with my husband on a fucking bus. So you can put on this dumb gold jacket,” you fiddle with Little Brendon’s jacket, “and perform the songs you worked so hard on for hundreds of thousands of people, and then sell thousands of these dumb little dolls so we can live in a multi-million dollar house with a home studio and a heated pool.”

“So you’re not replacing me with the puppet doll?” He asks.

“Well, maybe a little, but sometimes you feel so intangible. Even when you’re here, I know you have other, more important obligations, so it’s nice to have something constant,” you laugh, “and I think Bogart feels the same way,” you say, pointing to the dog who is curled around his new friend protectively.

***

“You’ve created a monster!”

“Have not!”

“You were the one who gave him Little Brendon!”

Brendon’s eyes dart to the floor because you’re right.

Bogart grew attached to Little Brendon faster than you did and now gently carries the toy with him wherever he goes. If you try to reclaim Little Brendon, Bogart growls and snarls.

“It’s kind of cute, I guess. He’s protecting his daddy,” you say.

“Then it’s your fault for putting my cologne on him,” Brendon retorts.

“Ugh, fine,” you concede.

“Oh look, he’s dropped it,” Brendon points out.

At first, you think it’s a good thing, but you both recognize the look Bogart’s giving.

“Go, Bog! Get it!” Brendon cackles as the dog pounces.

“Oh no, you don’t, bad dog,” you scold, snatching the toy away. “If you wanna hump something, I think Zack’s coming over tonight, but we don’t do that to mommy’s things.”

Brendon’s still laughing his ass off, and you shoot him a dirty look. “C’mon, babe, you’ve blue-balled him,” Brendon says, pointing to the sad-looking dog.

“Bogart is fixed and doesn’t have balls, a characteristic you two will soon have in common if you don’t stop giggling like a ten-year-old,” you threaten, and he, wisely, shuts up. “That’s what I thought. And if anything, this is just vindication for me because I told you Little Brendon was good for humping, and you dismissed it,” you tell him.

“Okay, fine, there was a brief period of time when I was irrationally jealous of a toy,” he admits. “But I think you should get another taste of the real thing before you decide who’s the better lay once and for all,” Brendon says, picking you up and carrying you to the bedroom.

“Brendon!” You lightheartedly protest in his arms.

***

You’re lying on his chest contentedly as he strokes your arm. “You wanna know what I miss the most about getting to cuddle with you when you’re touring? Something Little Brendon doesn’t give me?”

“Hm?”

“Your heartbeat. Feeling it under my head or under my palm. Especially if we’re lying together for a while. I love how it slows and steadies the longer we’re with each other. So comforting.”

***

Little Brendon is sitting on your bed with a card that says, “Squeeze me!” on the front. You squeeze the plush, and you immediately recognize Brendon’s heartbeat coming softly from the chest of the toy. You smile and pick up the card.

Hey, baby! It reads, I’m no doubt missing you on the second leg of tour right now, but if you really need some comfort, I hope this’ll do. The recording lasts about an hour, and I made sure it got down to my resting heart rate before it stops. I’m sorry for being a jealous dick about a stuffed animal, but even my possessive lizard brain wants you to have something to make you feel better if you’re ever stressed or upset. (And now that the Beebo plushies are officially for sale, you can rest easy knowing yours is special)

xoxoxo,

Brendon

#why did i write this?#brendon urie fanfiction #Brendon x Reader #my own work #brendon urie #panic! at the disco #panic at the disco #brendon urie smut #brendon urie fluff

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sylvie-writes · 3 years

Text

A Night In

summary: it’s your 1st wedding anniversary, unfortunately the snow has ruined your night. Or so you thought...

a/n: this is my entry for @just-one-ordinary-fangirl ‘s celebration challenge! also, I’m going to combine this with the anon who requested some Ransom Drysdale x wife! reader fluff.

word count: 1485, more or less.

warnings: stripping (but NOT in a sexual way) I swear it will make sense when you read it lmao, but I’m not gonna spoil it. this is still general audience.

*please pardon any mistakes! I try to proofread but I’m human. One who makes mistakes*

Mesmerizing snowflakes delicately fell from the night sky, the outside lights making them noticeable. Those little flakes gently fluttered to the ground, joining the rest of the snow that had compiled outfront. As of now, your front yard looked like that from a Hallmark movie.

Being snowed in was one thing, but being snowed in on your first wedding anniversary was another.

Of course, both you and your husband, Ransom, were slightly bummed out that your dinner reservations had to be cancelled, but you both still made it work.

Ten minutes ago, Ransom had phoned the restaurant, giving them the notice. After he hung up the phone, he joined you to snuggle on the couch, the yellow aura of the fireplace reflecting on your figures. Now, you were sitting between his legs, leaning against his broad chest, as the man laid his chin on the top of your head. When it had started snowing about an hour ago, you knew there was no way you were going to leave the house. Sadly, you turned back up the stairs and changed out of your dress and into a pair of sweats and a knitted henley top.

Ransom softly laid his hands over your stomach, interlocking them as he held you even closer to his body.

“What should we do, angel?”

For the past few minutes, you both have been silently brainstorming.

“I know there aren’t many things left in the pantry, but I’m sure we could whip up something.”

You looked down at his hands, and placed your own over them. Ransom unlatched his hands to envelope your colder ones.

“Well, I know we have stuff for spaghetti. How does that sound?”

“Sounds lovely, Ran!”

He paused making you nervous. When you turned expecting an upset expression, you were met with a giddy grin.

“That’s… that’s the first time I’ve been called that.”

First, Ransom stood from the couch, extending his hands to help you up. He smiled sweetly at you, and you brought your hand up to his cheek, a comforting touch.

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve never been called that. No one’s ever called me anything nice before in general.”

He bitterly laughed and a part of you felt a bit sad for him.

“No one? Not even your mother?”

“Babe, this is my mother we are talking about. The nicest thing she has called me is ‘asshole,’ which I take with pride.”

“That’s very true. At least this works in my favor. Now I have a nickname for you, honey!”

Once you were up from the couch, Ransom laid a hand on the small of your back, gently leading you into the kitchen.

One of your favorite activities in the whole wide world, was to cook with Ransom. Surprisingly, he was a pretty good cook, and you both worked wonders in the kitchen.

Currently, Ransom was filling a pot with water, as you gathered the many cans of the various forms of tomato. Sauces, pastes, and actual tomato chunks accounted for the six cans that made home on your side of the stovetop. Together, you and Ransom stood shoulder to shoulder working on your own parts of dinner. Since it was simple to boil the pasta, your husband helped out with the sauce by seasoning the beef.

As you waited for the sauce to simmer, you and Ransom softly swayed to the music in the kitchen. The two of you loved to dance. The feeling of being in each others’ arms was something you both adored.

When the timer sounded, you and Ransom pulled away from each other, having been softly lip locked for what felt like ages. You tended to the food while Ransom grabbed the bowls and poured your glasses of wine.

Ever the gentleman, Ransom pulled out your chair, making you giggle at his chivalry. This was a side of Ransom only you were allowed to see.

You both ate dinner in comfortable silence, occasionally talking, but mainly enjoying this time together. It was agreed that this was much better than sitting in some stuffy restaurant. Moments like the ones you had just created were ones you wouldn't have made at the restaurant.

Dinner was amazing and enjoyable. Your plates were soon empty and it was now time for the cleanup. Together, you and Ransom worked hurriedly and managed to clean the dishes in a timely manner. While Ransom cleaned the pot from the stovetop, he quickly came up with an idea for some more entertainment. It was clear the snow wasn’t gonna melt and you both clearly didn’t want to watch tv for the next few hours.

“Hey (y/n), did you keep any of the board games from when we moved?”

You took a moment to think, laying a hand on your hip.

“Actually, yeah! I kept a few, but I think battleship is the only two player game we have.”

A small pout came onto your lips, but it was washed away at Ransom’s happy smile.

“I’m totally down to play. That is if you are up to losing.”

His typical smirk formed and you leaned towards him to kiss it away. Pulling back slightly, you talked against his plush lips.

“You’re on.”

With Ransom finishing up cleaning, you took out Battship, placing his board on his side of the table as you situated your own. Soon, he came back to set his own ships into place. Just as you were about to begin, he spoke up with a tempting offer.

“Let’s spice things up a bit. Shall we?”

With a slightly drunken smirk, you replied, “What did you have in mind?”

“The person to lose this round strips to their undergarments and stands in the snow for a minute.”

You gasped loudly, reaching across the table to shake his hand while being mindful of the Battleship boards. The alcohol coursing in your veins and his made you two all the more competitive.

If you did lose, that would indeed be the longest minute of your life. The dare might’ve been stupid and childish, but you and Ransom fooled around like that for fun in desperate times as such. It was a perfect way to make your 1st anniversary even more memorable. Stupid things like these make for the fun stories to look back on, ten or fifteen years down the road.

“D3?”

“Nope.”

“A8?”

“Ugh.”

“E5?”

“Ah shit.”

After a shed load of curses, laughter, and a few glasses of wine, the game came to an end and your fates were sealed.

Successfully, you had managed to sink all of your husband’s ships. A prideful smile on your face as the man defeatedly sighed, standing on wobbly legs to give you a hand shake in a sportsmanship manner.

As Ransom stood up, he hurriedly slipped off his clothes starting with the t-shirt he was wearing. The man’s muscular arms stretched above his torso and you still couldn’t believe you managed to catch this man. Believe it or not, but you actually married him because he was such a charmer, not for his looks. They were just a bonus.

Before you knew it, Ransom stood before you in his boxers and shoes, making you giggle. He shot you a sarcastic smile, handing you his tan trench coat for your own use.

Opening the door, you both were immediately met with the rush of cold wind. It made you shiver and you were in the proper attire, it only made you wonder how Ransom felt.

You held your cell phone in hand, timer ticking away as Ransom stood in the never-ending, vast whiteness of the snow. His arms were tucked around his broad chest and his legs were crossed, trying to retain his warmth. You felt a tad bit bad, but then again it was a dare and neither of you would back down from one. Anyway, it was his idea in the first place.

So maybe you both were a *bit* competitive…

Ding!

“Ran! Come in!”

You waved him over from the door. Immediately he ran faster than a child running from their shadow. In a flash he was in the house, standing by the fireplace shivering.

To be fair, you decided to join in. As his back was turned, you stripped to your own undergarments, leaving on his coat to warm yourself. Ransom’s ice cold skin came into contact with your own making you hiss. Surprised by your touch, the man turned around enveloping you into his arms, trying to feel your warmth.

“I felt bad for you, even though it was your idea!”

“Damn straight! You are such a meanie to me, your precious, darling, innocent husband.”

Playfully you slapped his chest, leaning back into his embrace. The two of you stood in front of the fire, until warmed up, then going to pick up your discarded clothes and returning to snuggle on the couch.

There was no better way to end the night than with a sweet kiss.

“Happy Anniversary, Mr. Drysdale.”

“Happy Anniversary, Mrs. Drysdale.”

if you’ve made it this far thank you so much for sticking with the crazy plot. I know it was a little... risqué. Then again, it’s a Ransom fic. Anything is possible.

Taglist: @memissbee @tricereads @buckybarnesthehotshot @bval-1 @tonystankschild @turtoix @kelbabyblue @jakiki94 @calirindo

#JOOF500challenge #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale imagine #ransom drysdale x you #Chris Evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans x reader

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retrievablememories · 4 years

Text

moonlight | jaehyun (m)

title: moonlight pairing: jaehyun x reader genre: smut request: “Hi 😘 Nct members going to a strip club and jaehyun getting a private dance that turns into fucking scenario please? Can be smutty” word count: 3.2k warnings: sex work, oral sex (male receiving), dirty talk, riding a/n: I admittedly don’t know much about strip clubs at my big age of 23 💀 I researched what I could but took some creative liberties. I only included a handful of nct members here since that is a looot of men lol

“Don’t look now, but your pretty boy and his group of friends are back. Diane says their car is outside,” Anya says, walking into the dressing room where the rest of the girls are. Your interest is piqued at this, though you pretend not to hear her as you finish applying your makeup. Serena isn’t so quick to let you off the hook.

“Isn’t that your boyfriend? Your little boy toy?” Serena asks, leaning closer and batting her eyelashes at you.

You pause with the mascara wand in your hand. “What boyfriend?” you scoff, though you already know exactly what she’s talking about.

“Girl, stop pretending like you’re not into him or some shit. You look at him almost as much as he stares at you!” Anya rolls her eyes and puts her hand on her hip, looking every bit of an Amazon in her 6-inch heels.

“He’s yet to request a private dance, so…I’m not sweatin’ over him. And anyway, he’s no boyfriend of mine if he ain’t paying the bills.”

“Okay, I heard that one!” Both Serena and Anya laugh at your comment. But now that you know he’s here, you are suddenly a little more motivated to dance well tonight. Not that you don’t already, but a little extra never hurt anyone.

Him and his idol friends come around to Moonlight every so often, one weekend or so a month, to get their rocks off. They’re from that kpop group NCT, and you’ve figured out the one who stares is Jaehyun. But you don’t know a ton about them other than those bare facts.

With Moonlight being one of a few ultra-diverse strip clubs in Seoul, it rose to popularity fairly quickly after its establishment. And to no one’s surprise — no one who truly knows the game, anyway — there are always a lot of kpop idols who come to watch the dancers. Their fans would undoubtedly be scandalized if they knew, but hey, that ain’t your problem. You’re here to make money, have fun, and seduce starry-eyed, lonely men. If they’re attractive, that’s only a bonus.

The House Mother, Daya, comes to stand in the doorway and calls your name. “You’re up next girl, so move that ass!”

“I’m coming,” you sigh dramatically, but there are no hard feelings at all. She’s one of the nicer club owners in this part of the city, one who treats all the girls like equals no matter what their skin color or creed is. And when you work in a club as popular and as multicultural as Moonlight, you need someone there to keep the drama to a minimum.

The club is as dim as ever, but the stage lights remain at a low shine, ready to come on full blast once the next dancer appears. The music thumps so heavily that the bass seems to become one with the building, making every part of the club feel alive with energy. A group of 5 men enter, weaving their way through the seats to make it to their usual spot next to the stage.

“Wow, can’t believe we’re actually in a strip club right now, haha…” Mark tries to play it cool, but he’s not very good at hiding his nervousness. This is only his first strip club outing with the other boys, after all. He taps his fingers on his legs like he’s playing the drums.

“Yeah, could’ve sworn we were on Mars instead,” Doyoung says, and the others laugh while Mark rolls his eyes.

Mark isn’t the only one whose nerves are getting to him, though. Johnny notices Jaehyun’s restless demeanor as the rest of them settle in, and he muffles a laugh, nudging the younger man. “God, I hope that one dancer you like is here tonight, you look like you’re about to come out of your clothes.”

“She’s way out of your league,” Ten snickers.

“Stop acting like I’m ugly. I could get her any time,” Jaehyun argues, glaring at the other man.

“She’s a woman of her own, not something you can take as you please, Jaehyun!” Johnny says, and both Ten and Jaehyun laugh.

“Johnny, you should keep an eye out for your own crush.” Doyoung gives him a knowing look, and he only laughs sheepishly in response.

It isn’t long before you appear on the stage, the club bursting with cheers and claps and the dual spotlights flickering to full illumination. The spotlights glisten on your skin and reflect off the light pink lingerie set you’re wearing, making you look akin to a goddess—at least in Jaehyun’s eyes. You step out from behind the velvety curtains, letting the fabric caress your body before making your way towards the pole in the middle of the stage.

Your signature song plays as you twist yourself around the pole and perform your favorite tricks, letting yourself be hyped up and carried away by the people around you calling your stage name and throwing bills at your feet. The world spins as you do, revolving around the pole with your legs touching the sky. You grin at the upside-down faces staring back at you, leaving your charm to do all the talking.

You finish your pole routine by slowly sliding down to the base of it and landing carefully in a split. Your back is facing the NCT boys, though you look over your shoulder to flash a sultry look at the audience. This one is always a crowd-pleaser—though you also use this move as an excuse to catch a glimpse of Jaehyun’s expression. You aren’t disappointed by the hunger written across his gaze.

You gracefully turn your body to them, getting on your hands and knees so they have a full view of your chest. As you crawl closer to the end of the stage, Jaheyun’s figure grows clearer underneath the club’s simultaneously dark and light atmosphere. He’s close enough to reach out and touch.

So you do—bringing your legs out in front of you and spreading them in an appealing stretch before resting them on his shoulders, one after the other. Other men in the club seethe with envy. Jaehyun himself is stuck like a fish out of water, blushing madly but also completely into your display.

Beside him, Doyoung whoops and Johnny whistles. You lift your legs off of Jaehyun gracefully and follow the move by letting your silk robe slip off your shoulders, fully exposing the bare skin of your shoulders and back. Even this is enough to get the men riled up again, and you revel in their cheers.

Jaehyun knows enough strip club etiquette than to try to touch you, and you take advantage of this by gliding off the stage and circling him like he’s your prey. You purposely brush your silk robe over his body, letting it cocoon him in your scent. His fingers drift across it, and he wonders if it could possibly be as soft as your skin looks—or maybe you’re even softer.

Before he can truly get into it, you’ve flitted off to another nearby table of men, taking your silk with you.

“Holy fuck,” Mark looks like a deer in the headlights, and his legs are crossed uncomfortably to hide his obvious boner.

“The baby’s gonna implode!” Ten laughs.

“Well hold it, because the night is just beginning!” Doyoung shouts.

Jaehyun’s eyes keep coming over to you even as you rotate to one of the other, smaller platforms in the club, another girl taking your spot on the main stage.

“You really put it on him tonight, huh?” Serena says, putting her arm around your shoulders. “He’s totally in love. Watch him come to the next show with an engagement ring.” You chuckle at that idea. You find it strangely endearing. You wouldn’t marry him without knowing him, of course, but the idea of having him that tightly wrapped around your finger makes you grin.

You don’t have long to think about it before Daya is coming to break up your kiking fest.

“You’ve got a request for a private dance from one Jaehyun. Sound familiar?” Daya announces. Serena nudges you, and you nod. Daya raises her eyebrows. “You up for it?”

The corners of your lips curl up in a smile. “Give me 5 to freshen up.”

Moonlight holds a dozen or so rooms within its second story, all solely reserved for private dances. You climb the stairs slowly in your heels, partly because you don’t want to trip and partly because you’re slightly nervous about what to expect. There’s an abundance of security guards stationed on this level—and each room has an emergency button—so you’re not worried about safety, per se. Whoever this Jaehyun guy really is, you hope he can meet a few of your expectations, at least. Maybe it’s a little embarrassing, but you’ve built him up in your mind more than you’ve allowed yourself with other club-goers.

The room number is 202. You stand in front of the door for a few moments to take several deep breaths. Then you relax your body, talking yourself back into your Performance mode, and open the door.

“Who’s this handsome man?” Jaehyun looks up to see you standing in the doorway, still wearing your outfit from the stage. He sits up on the plush black couch that stands out from the blazing purple hue of the rest of the room. A row of mirrors frames the wall behind the couch, reflecting your own figure back to you. He looks a bit disheveled, with his shirt unbuttoned and his slacks crooked, but it’s a good look for him.

He leans forward to drink in your body, his eyes drifting up from the garters resting against your thighs to the lacy bra covering your breasts, and you smile underneath his gaze. “Jaehyun. And you’re ______...right?”

“Of course. You should know me by now, special boy,” you tease, sauntering over to him to sit on the couch beside him, instead of his lap like he expected. Still, you hover incredibly close to him, your hand sliding against his lapels and stroking the fabric of his button-up right where it unfolds against his skin. “After all, you’ve stared enough.”

“It’s hard not to.” Jaehyun rakes his eyes across your body as if he’s dying to touch it. You smirk and stand up again, sliding off your silk robe and throwing it to him as you wind your body to the music coming from the room’s speakers.

“What would your girlfriend say?” you tease.

His eyes widen at that. “I don’t have a girlfriend.”

“Don’t act so scandalized about it...men with girlfriends and wives come here all the time. It’s shitty...but it’s life.” You say this while twisting your hips in his face, and he initially seems a little too distracted to realize you’ve said anything. Then it registers.

“That’s....do you like this j-job, at least?” Jaehyun’s breath hitches at the end of his sentence when you drape yourself across his body, your head resting back on his shoulder and your ass pressing against the undeniable bulge in his pants. Still, he doesn’t touch you, which you are grateful for—many other men haven’t been so tactful during private dances—so you continue servicing him without a care in the world.

“It’s fun, and I get to meet handsome men like you.” Your fingers ghost across his jawline, drifting only inches away but not making contact. “There’s a lot to like about it.”

You move away and he thinks you mean to get up, but you only turn to face him. “You can touch me now, if you’d like. I think you’ve been a good boy…”

You grind in Jaehyun’s lap and are delighted when he responds in kind, pushing his hips up to meet yours. Your faces are inches apart. You are practically breathing in sync, smiling like there’s a secret only the two of you know.

You make the first move by kissing him, and he slants his mouth against yours as if your lips have always belonged together.

You grasp Jaehyun’s hand and lead it to your hip, and he takes the cue to rest both of his hands on your waist, simply following your directions.

He does take the lead with the kiss, though, biting your lip as you gently pull away, and tugging you back in. He tastes like alcohol, and as cliché as it is, it makes you feel a bit drunk—but that might also be due to his demeanor itself.

“How long have you wanted this?” you ask, sliding your hand into his black shirt and drawing your nails across his skin—not painfully hard, but enough to make him throb under you.

“Maybe too long,” he says. “You’re very beautiful.”

You smile. “Aren’t we a perfect match, then?” Your hand slides lower, to his abdomen and the muscles you can feel even under his dress shirt, and then to his belt. “Would you like to continue?” you ask.

“Yes.”

You unbuckle his belt, sliding the leather through his belt loops and dropping it off to the side somewhere. You slide yourself off his lap to kneel in front of him as you caress his lower half, rubbing your hands up his thighs and across his bulge, underneath his clothing to feel his abs, and then back again.

Unzipping his dress pants is equally fun. You watch him sweat and feel him shudder as you drag the zipper down with your teeth. You pull his underwear down after, slowly drawing the material over his skin on purpose. His cock springs out, hard and thick and flushed with need, and you lean forward to drag your mouth over it, base to tip.

Jaehyun is heavy and warm against your lips and he smells good, like male musk, like pheromones and desire. You hold the base as you slap his dick on your tongue and he rolls his head back, making a sound between a groan and a laugh as if he can’t believe this is happening.

He doesn’t want to rush or hurt you, so he lets you do the work of sliding him into your mouth as far as you can take, drooling over his dick and sucking him so messily that it makes his knees quiver. The groans and grunts you pull out of him are lovely to hear—you feel good to know that you can bring him this much pleasure so easily. His precum drips into your mouth, salty on your tastebuds.

Jaehyun is pliable in your hands as you stroke his shaft, focusing your tongue on his leaking tip. You feel his thumb brushing the back of your neck, his hand settling on your nape as he watches you suck his dick. He curses under his breath when you scrape your teeth against him very gently, giving just enough pressure to make it feel good.

Soon, you feel Jaehyun nearing in your mouth, his cock throbbing harder and his thighs trembling around you.

“I-I want to fuck you,” Jaehyun says abruptly. You pull back to look at him through your eyelashes. You leave a trail of spit lingering between your lips and his dick, and he looks like he might come right then.

“Such a greedy boy.” You lift yourself to be level with his eyes, tilting his chin with your fingertips. “What’s the magic word?”

“Please?” He looks like he isn’t totally certain that’s the right answer, and it makes you laugh. In response to his request, you turn to face the door, bending over and making a show of unclipping your garters and sliding your thong down before straightening to remove them completely. Jaehyun moans at that.

You turn back to see that he’s already taken care of the condom. He groans beautifully for you again when you crawl back onto his lap and slide him inside of you, clenching around his hard length.

You start with a slow and winding rhythm at first, not entirely hellbent on teasing him but not willing to let him blow his load too soon, either. His hands are all over your body at this point, gripping your ass and your breasts and whatever else he can get his hands on. He pulls your bra down and tugs your nipples into his mouth like a man starved.

You laugh at his eagerness, riding him harder.

Jaehyun plants his feet straight on the ground and starts thrusting up into you and you cry out at the added sensation, his tip hitting against your g spot and making you sweat and tremble.

“Fuck, you’re good,” you sigh, digging your nails into his shoulder as you fuck each other at the perfect pace.

“This is the best pussy I’ve ever had,” he says in between sucking your nipples. “I’ve gotta taste it.”

“N-next time.” Your body squeezes around him again as he brings one of his hands to the front to rub your clit. You’re glad the music is loud, otherwise there’d be no hiding your noises or the sound of your skin slapping together.

You feel wild and free in a way you haven’t in a long time, and you let yourself scrape your nails across his skin and bite at his neck as you fuck yourself harder on his dick.

You and Jaehyun kiss and thrust against each other like you’ll never get to do it again, with all the delicious hurriedness that a quick and tension-filled type of fuck can offer.

“I’m c-close.” Jaehyun groans this into your hair as you’ve gone back to biting his neck again. He grips your ass and holds you tighter against him, if at all possible, and pushes himself into your spot with renewed energy. His hand still works your clit, just shy of being firm enough to hurt—but practiced enough to provide pleasure.

“Not without me,” you say, licking the shell of his ear. “What would your friends say?”

“They wouldn’t know, because right now, you’re mine alone.” He slaps your ass and that’s enough to get you spilling onto him, crying his name right into his eardrum as you shudder and tighten around him.

Jaehyun comes soon after, thrusting a few more times and settling himself deep inside you as he fills the condom. He leans his head against the couch and you watch as he vocalizes his pleasure, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he arches into you.

You feel sated and a bit sleepy now, but your shift isn’t over yet and there are still more shows to be done. You lay a kiss on Jaehyun’s throat before gingerly untangling yourself from him and redressing, making sure everything is in place.

Jaehyun throws away the condom and does the same for himself, though there won’t be any hiding the bruises you’ve left on his neck. He looks in the mirrors behind him and blushes at the sight of them, brushing his fingers over them.

“Sorry honey. Hope your friends don’t tease you too much over it.” You smile sympathetically, though you aren’t terribly sorry. You move to open the door but Jaehyun calls out wait, and you pause.

He slides a piece of paper with his number on it into your hand and gives you a smirk. “Don’t forget our promise. ‘Next time,’ remember?”

You tuck the paper into your bra and make a note to put it somewhere safer once you get to the dressing room. “Of course, baby.” With that, you are gone, and Jaehyun is left with the memories—and the marks—to remind him of you until you meet again.

#jaehyun smut #nct 127 smut #nct smut #nct ambw #ambw fic #ambw scenarios #nct scenarios #nct jaehyun #nct fic #nct 127 fic #nct 127 imagines #ambw imagines

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dc41896 · 3 years

Text

Attention

Pairing: Johnny “Human Torch” StormxBlack Reader

⚠️: Tiny bit of angst (if it even counts really), also tiny bit of implied happy times, but mostly fluff💕!

Re-reading over your notes for what felt like the millionth time this week, you softly mumble to yourself the highlighted material hoping that everything would remain stuck in your mind for your practical tomorrow.

“Intramuscular means within the muscle and is given at a 90 degree angle. Intravenous means within the vein, given at a 25 degree angle. Subcutaneous: in the subcutaneous layer at a 45 degree angle. And finally intradermal-,”

“Psst....psst!!”

If only your boyfriend would stop being a grown man child and let you finish studying though.

“Yes Johnny?,” you sigh still looking down at your binder.

“Take a break, I want to show you something.”

“No Johnny we’re not doing that again.”

“I wasn’t talking about that princess,” he smirks moving to lean against the bedroom door frame. “Although I’m not complaining if you want more.”

Giving him a look clearly showing how you weren’t in the mood, he chuckles holding up his hands to show he was done joking.

“Seriously though I want to show you something, so can you please come with me?”

“Just tell me, or take a picture of it on your phone and show me that way. I really have to keep studying and don’t have time for a bunch of breaks.” Straightening up, a low huff leaves his lips as you hear him pad through the living room before coming back holding a new action figure posed as if about to throw a handful of flames.

“Look! It’s me!,” he beams squatting next to you holding out the toy for you to see.

“Mhm that’s nice babe,” you smile not really displaying the reaction he wanted you to.

“I see you’re having a hard time containing your excitement,” he retorts sarcastically, bringing his mini me back towards his chest.

“It really is nice babe, it’s just similar to some of your other toys that I’ve already seen.”

“But with this one, the little flame lights up. See?” Pressing the small button on the back to show the tiny, plastic flame glowing scarlet, a wide smile spreads across his face making you giggle.

“Yes very cool. Now if that’s all, I gotta get back to this okay?”

“Alright,” he sighs standing up to return to his spot on the couch probably cold by now. “Why don’t you come study out here? It’ll be more comfortable than sitting on the floor.”

“Because you’re watching tv and that’s gonna distract me.”

“Not anymore. The game’s off so I’m done for the night,” he playfully smiles stealing one of your study packets making you whine his name. “Cmon you know you’d rather sit on the big, soft, incredibly comfy couch.”

Wiggling his brows, you roll your eyes trying to focus back on the words in front of you, but as always, seeing his adorable pout was wearing you down. Plus the ache in your buttcheeks was really making the couch, or any soft piece of furniture for that matter, sound like heaven.

“And, as an added bonus, your incredibly hot, charming, all around amazing boyfriend will be there.”

“Johnny...”

“As!...support and to help anyway I can of course. What did you think?,” he feigns shock as you shake your head.

“Alright fine. But if you try to distract me just once, I’m kicking you out for the rest of the night, and you’ll have to either get a hotel, or crash with Reed and Sue.”

“Okay deal,” he chuckles helping you stand and gather the packets, pens, and highlighters you needed to continue your attempted all nighter.

Sat in the middle of the plush sectional with one of his legs draped over your folded ones and the other stretched out behind you, so far he’d done well on his agreement. He stayed busy on his phone watching sports highlights with earbuds attached to his head, and hardly ever touched you unless to give a reassuring hug when he could sense you were getting overwhelmed, or softly dance his finger along your arm making you smile. He even started quizzing you from whichever packet you were on as you lied just below his chest playing with his free hand.

From how he was earlier, seemingly a bit more clingy and not wanting to be away from you, something told you deep down this was all he wanted. Just feeling your body near him as you did whatever, no matter how boring the task was. And although a little distracting, you couldn’t be completely mad at him for his antics since deep down you know you wanted it too.

Honestly need may be the better word judging from your noticeably calmer state. Even Johnny could feel your heart rate gradually decrease to its normal speed through his body.

Soon his yawn began to trigger your own set and eyelids became heavy as the questions came slower along with your answers. You tried to fight it off, but apparently your body had other plans making it increasingly more difficult to open your eyes until both of your light snores were the only sound that could be heard throughout the room.

———

“Good morning Mr. Johnny Storm, Miss Y/N,” the computerized security system greets opening the curtains to reveal the bright sun and cause you to stir. Rubbing your eyes, you see all the packets spread on the glass coffee table quickly reminding you of your exam.

“Sherlock, what time is it?,” you ask in a panic as you sit up causing Johnny to shift slightly without opening his eyes.

Also, why he decided to name the computer system Sherlock, you’d never understand.

“11:30 am miss.”

Grabbing your packets as fast as you can, a string of curses fall from your lips as you run about trying to collect your things. By now you were supposed to be on campus looking over your notes one last time before going in for your slot time at 12. At this rate, you’d definitely be over an hour late and received an automatic zero.

“What’s the rush princess?,” your boyfriend tiredly asks stretching his arms over his head as he stands.

“I overslept and I’m late,” you sniff trying to hold back your tears as you search through drawers trying to find your scrubs. “Where are they?”

Joining you in the room, he tries to kiss your cheek only to miss you completely as you rush past him still looking for your clothes.

“Closet babe. By my suit.”

“Well what about the other ones since those need to be washed now?”

“In the basket to be washed.”

“You mean the same clothes in the basket I asked you to wash last weekend,” you retort changing into the faint ash smelling scrubs. Noticing you wiping your eyes a bit more frequently, he manages to grab your arm stopping you from wherever else you needed to go.

“Johnny seriously I don’t have time for this-,”

“Relax okay? Let’s try to call your professor and tell them what happened to see if you can get a new time.”

“It’s not gonna work. This isn’t an emergency situation, I just overslept like an idiot,” you answer pulling away to finish the rest of your morning routine in the bathroom.

He sighs hearing you bang about while pulling his phone from the pocket of his sweatpants trying to find the number for your school. His upcoming events list popping up though makes him deeply chuckle as he shakes his head.

“Oh honey...!”

“Johnny please don’t start. I’m already frustrated a-and overwhelmed trying to figure out what to do and just need to-.” Holding his phone in front of your eyes, you see his calendar showing all his important meetings and interviews, along with your test date.

Which wasn’t until next Monday.

Pulling your phone from your backpack, you go to your calendar to find the same thing making you feel even dumber.

“...S-So I don’t have my test today?”

“No princess,” he smiles coming closer to caress your face with both hands, wiping your tears with his thumbs.

“And I stayed up all night this week studying for nothing?”

“Well not for nothing. You know your stuff now, so you won’t have to worry about it later.”

“Yea,” you sigh looking up at him as you hold onto his strong forearms. “Sorry for snapping at you about the laundry, and for kinda being cranky yesterday.”

“You were stressed. I get it.”

“But still, there were things I could’ve said differently-.”

“I forgive you,” he smiles leaning in to meet your soft lips with his in a needy kiss he’d been craving since yesterday. Biting your bottom lip as he just barely pulls away, your hands wander from his forearms to his flexed biceps, shoulders, and eventually chest stopping to graze your index finger along the small dip below his neck.

“Well since I don’t have an exam today and no classes, I was thinking...”

“Oh I think I know,” he smirks tilting his head lower to nip at your jaw and neck making you giggle.

“I help you do the laundry.” As soon as the sentence left your mouth, his stopped making you laugh harder while he groaned against your skin.

“Alright I promise it’ll get done today, but can’t we do it later?,” he whines with puppy eyes, lifting you so your legs could wrap around his hips as if trying to persuade you.

“Let me finish. We do the laundry so I can have clean scrubs and between loads, I give you all the attention I know you’ve been wanting that I wasn’t fully able to give this week.”

“Hey it’s not like I’ve been that-,” he tries to deny before meeting your eyes as if they were saying “really?”

“...yes please,” he smiles before his mouth returns to your smiling lips.

Taglist: @fumbling-fanfics @honeychicanawrites @honeychicana @lady-olive-oil @themyscxiras @melinda-january @lovelymari4 @maxcullen @literaturefeen @damnitaa @curlyhairclub @plokyu23 @fullofmelaninsarcasmandepression @nunubug99 @felicity-x0 @ellixthea @jnk-812 @jojolu @brwn-sgr @captainsamwlsn @wildfirecracker @nina-sj @iammyownlover @chaneajoyyy @secretmysteriousperson @scoop93535

If anybody wants to be tagged, has asked to be tagged but don’t see your name, only want to be tagged for certain people I write for (can be found on my masterlist), or no longer wish to be tagged just let me know🤓!

#johnnyxwoc #johnnyxblackreader #johnnyxreader #johnny storm #fantastic four #chrisxblackreader #chrisxwoc #chrisxreader #chris evans

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mcwriting · 4 years

Text

The Marriage Project (3)

Anddddd I’m back with this bby. Sorry I’ve been slowing down some of my content. Last Friday I had to deal with family health matters on top of schoolwork and a sorority function I had to be at. Anyways.

High school AU. Tom Holland. Yeah.

Story Masterlist

Warnings: mild language

Rating: Between T and M

Word Count: 2351

% approximately the 3rd week of September %

You’d had two away volleyball games that week and Tom had an away football game, so by Saturday you were exhausted. Your Friday game hadn’t been too far, but the football team had traveled a decent distance, so you figured they’d gotten home late.

You still showed up at Tom’s on time, though, as planned the day before.

Nikki opened the door at your arrival.

“Oh, hey, y/n! Come on in!”

You returned her greeting and entered, looking around expectantly.

“If you’re looking for Tom, he’s not up yet. They got home pretty late last night.”

“I figured that would be the case.”

You noticed that on the dining room table were a few grocery bags.

“Oh, do you need help with those? I can wait on Tom,” you offered.

“No don’t worry about those bags, but if you’re looking to do something, I was about to make some apple pies for a get together tomorrow. I’d love your help.”

You agreed and followed her into the kitchen. After peeling and chopping apples for a few minutes, someone else walked into the kitchen.

“Well who’s this? I don’t remember having a daughter,” Tom’s dad said. You turned to look at him and smile, then continued cutting fruit.

“Oh Dominic you know y/n. She’s the one Tom’s always talking about, competing and whatnot. They’re doing that marriage project together.”

Your face heated up so you continued to look down at the apple.

He talks about me? Like how much he hates me or what?

“Yes of course, how could I forget? You’re one of the best soccer players I’ve seen! Good to see you again,” he said.

“Nice seeing you, too, Mr. Holland.”

“Please, call me Dom. Now how come you’re down here and not with Tom?”

“I was waiting for him to get up. Plus, Nikki promised me a slice,” you grinned.

“Well I’d definitely call that a fair trade. Nikki’s pies are the best in the world,” he turned to his wife, “I’ll be back in a bit. I’m meeting with the publisher today.”

“Good luck, honey. I’m sure you’ll be great,” Nikki encouraged, giving her husband a quick peck.

“Thanks, dear. Once again, it was nice seeing you, y/n. Feel free to come make desserts here any time,” he joked and you just laughed and waved.

A few minutes after he’d left, Nikki spoke up again.

“You know, y/n. I’m glad you and Tom were paired up for this project. I’ve really liked having you around the past few weeks, and it seems like Tom has learned a lot from you. I mean, He even went out and bought some pads and tampons and things for his bathroom this week.”

Now your face really burned.

“He did?”

“Yeah. He said he’d better be safe than sorry. I’m glad you two look out for each other like that, even if you are rivals. By the way, I made sure he didn’t get the cardboard ones,” she added. With that, you fell into rhythmic silence.

Not long after, you heard footsteps coming down the stairs. From the hall, Tom’s voice called out.

“Mom? It’s almost 2. Have you heard anything from-” he walked through the kitchen door. “Oh. You’re here. What are you doing?”

You grabbed a towel to wipe off your hands as you turned to face him.

“I got here at 1 but felt bad about you getting home late so I’ve just been helping your mom make pie. She promised me a slice.”

“You’re really gonna give her some mom? She doesn’t even deserve to see how they’re made!”

“Oh Tom I swear. Y/n is a nice girl, just get over yourself. But, if you two want to go get to work I think I’ve got it handled from here. I’ll bring you both some when the first one’s done.”

You grabbed your bag and headed up behind Tom and got to work quickly. Eventually you took a break when Nikki brought up pie and ice cream as promised with a couple waters.

You ate in silence, Tom leaned against his bed and you against the wall across from him, when something she had said earlier popped into your head.

“Hey, Tom?”

“Yeah princess?” he replied, not looking up. You rolled your eyes and continued.

“Your mom said something earlier that I wanted to ask about.”

“If she told you anything incriminating it’s not true.”

“Suuuureeee. Anyways, she said you, uh, stocked up your cabinet in the bathroom. That’s really cool of you.”

“Yeah, well, can’t have you bleeding everywhere now can we? But, em. Yeah. The fact that you were so panicked over something that seems so trivial spoke pretty loud. I thought it’s better to just stay safe.”

You sat in silence for a little bit, just eating.

“Mind if I ask you something?” he said.

“Shoot.”

“What does it feel like? You know? They don’t mention that stuff in health articles.”

You contemplated for a little bit before answering.

“Well… like I said before, it’s different for everyone, but I’ll try my best. Cramps are kinda like being scratched and punched from the inside all at once. Freebleeding just feels like… wet and sticky. I find it disgusting so I wear mostly tampons.”

“Interesting. Thanks, princess.”

Once finishing off your snack, you got back to work. By the time you were done, it was almost 4.

“See you Monday, y/n”

“Yep. Oh, by the way, I have a small volleyball tournament next weekend so I can’t do Saturday. Is Sunday okay or do you wanna get together another day?”

“Can you do Thursday? We just have morning workouts that day.”

“Yeah I have practice last period so I’ll just shower and meet you in the parking lot? We can go to my place.”

“Can’t. I have to take the boys home.”

“If you want, you can take them home and I’ll pick you up. It’ll give me time to shower and change and then we can just carpool.”

“I don’t know. Sure you even know how to drive?”

“I’ll have you know I passed that test with flying colors sophomore year.”

Eventually he agreed and with that you were back out the door, giving one final thanks to Nikki.

By Wednesday you and Tom had finished your little quilt and Mrs. Flynn loved it.

You and Tom obviously didn’t play when it came to grades, even if it was home economics.

Thursday, you were leaving your last class before practice and reminded Tom you were picking him up that afternoon, to which his friends looked at him funny and kinda messed with him.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

When you pulled up into his driveway after school, he plopped into the passenger's seat and held out a foil-wrapped object in his left hand.

“What is that?” you asked.

“My mom wanted you to have it. She made bread.”

“Oh. Well thanks. I’ll have to thank her for it next time I see her. You can just set it in the back seat for now.”

You drove back to your place, pulling into the garage and leading Tom through the door. Your parents were still at work, so you told Tom you’d just work in the living room.

“I don’t want them to say anything weird about us being home alone in my room,” you explained.

You sat on the floor quietly typing when you remembered something.

“Hey, how did you do on the calc test?”

“95. You?”

“Damn. 94. I’ll make a comeback next time,” you joked, earning an eye roll.

After a half hour, your mom came home.

“Hey honey, how was your day? Did you beat Tom in whatever you were competing with him in today?” she asked, part joking since she knew of your rivalry well.

“It was fine, and mom. We have a guest, remember?” you said through gritted teeth.

She looked over the couch, where she found Tom waving at her awkwardly.

“Oh. Hi there. I forgot you were coming over today. So sorry about that.”

“No worries, Mrs. y/l/n. I beat her by a point today so it evens out,” he joked. You were annoyed at his banter with your mom and cut it off.

“Okay, well, Tom. Let’s go finish this in my room now that my mom’s home,” you said, getting everything and carrying it to the bedroom.

You tossed your bag and papers on the floor and quickly picked up some random things laying around, such as a pair of volleyball shoes and stray athletic socks. You especially rushed to snatch a rogue lace bra.

From the corner of your eye, you could see Tom standing still, looking around the room like you had the first time at his house.

Your walls were light grey but covered in your paintings and other art. One shelf mounted to a wall held all of your ribbons and trophies from sports, quiz bowl, and art fairs. Your bedspread was baby pink and sheets light yellow, and the same pink was strewn around the room in the form of desk accents and other blankets. You had a large plush cat resting near your pillows.

“Wow. So you’re like… a real girl. Huh.” he stated flatly. You stood up from tossing everything into your closet.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Well, like, you’re all tough and smart and sporty but you have pink everywhere and a stuffed animal on your bed.”

“You do realize women are complex creatures right? Considering we’re human and all?”

“Yeah, of course. I guess I’ve just never seen this side of you. I shouldn’t have worded it that way. Sorry.”

It surprised you to hear Tom apologize over something so small. Usually he would stand his ground, wave you off, or just move on.

“It’s fine. I just hate when people stereotype, you know? Like I can love science, art, sports, pink, sweatpants, and skirts all at the same time. And I do. And I’m not trying to sound like the ‘I’m not like other girls’ girl, because I am a girl, but I’m more than just one side or the other.”

“So why do you hide the ‘typically girly’ stuff? I’ve never seen you at school wearing a pink dress and makeup. I mean even at dances you always wear dark colors and at parties I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in something other than jeans or shorts.”

You shrugged as you made your way onto the floor next to your computer, Tom following suit.

“I guess I try to stick to one aesthetic. I mean, it already seems to shock the administration that I’m good at and enjoy doing two sports, art, and honors stuff. I don’t think they could handle another layer of me,” you chuckled. “Isn’t there anything you hide?”

He thought about it for a few seconds, leaning his head against the wall.

“Well, I guess you know this now, but I like Spider-Man.”

“Yeah, but it’s considered normal for guys to like comic book characters. When I tell people I like Spider-Man, they just assume I have a crush on the actor. Come on, there has to be something you don’t show off at school.”

“Okay fine. I’ve got a couple. One, I actually like to cook. A lot. It almost kills me to be partnered up with the guys sometimes because they’re so clueless in the kitchen. And two, I love dance. I did it for a bit as a kid but got embarrassed and decided to go the normal sports route. I still go to the Nutcracker every year, though.”

You found yourself smiling at his honesty.

“Really? You know my mom put me in little kid ballet classes for a while, but I was really disruptive in class because I had too much energy, so I got into other sports instead. Has the football team never done a ballet class? I know some schools make them.”

“One summer. Maybe two years ago? We were doing a team building thing and they made us take one. I couldn’t make myself pretend to be bad so I just let everyone believe I was a natural talent,” he laughed, causing you to do the same. “You should’ve seen those guys. That’s probably one of my best football memories.”

You both sit in comfortable silence for a while. You couldn’t remember a time that you both were open to each other without the slightest bit of tension.

After a few more moments, you both got back to work.

You didn’t realize that it was past 5 o’clock until your mother was at your doorway telling you dinner was ready.

“Feel free to stay. We’d love to have you for dinner, Tom,” she offered, then went back to the kitchen.

“Do you mind? I can just walk home if not.”

“Just stay, man. What’s one dinner? I’d feel at least somewhat bad to make you walk all the way home. We’re done for the week anyways, so I’ll just drive you after we eat.”

You led him to the kitchen, where your mom had cooked some ravioli and tossed a salad. You built your plates and thanked your mom, then sat at the dining room table.

You ate in awkward silence since your parents were in the living room. Your dad had greeted you and Tom when he came home from work, not really realizing who Tom was.

Once your plates were practically cleaned, you cleared the table and took Tom home.

“Thanks again for dinner and driving me. Good luck this weekend.”

Who is this guy and where did he take Tom? He never wishes me luck.

“Yeah no problem. Thank your mom for the bread. And good luck on your game tomorrow, too. I hear it’s gonna be a tough one.”

”They just haven’t met me yet,” he joked, then got out of the car and headed to the door. He tossed one last wave back as you pulled away.

A/N: I’m happy to be posting the next part and with the free time that I have at the moment of formatting this I’m hoping that I can reedit ch 4 and have it up by next week. As always, love you all and thanks for reading!

If you want to be added to TMP or my permanent tag list, please send an ask/message so I can verify that you get added!

Story Tag List: @jackiehollanderr, @one-big-fangirl, @l0lmk, @primadonnasdream, @bookworm06, @thenoddingbunny-blog

#The Marriage Project #tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you #Harry Holland #sam holland #tom holland au #spider-man #tom holland spider man

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jobean12-blog · 4 years

Note

Hey honey!! I hope you're having a wonderful day!! I have a request based on what we talked about the other day hehehe!! Where beefy!Bucky buys boxers a size smaller and teases reader by walking around in them in their room and when they're in the common room with the team he sits opposite her and is wearing a size smaller in jeans too so it shows his glorious bulge and her eyes almost drop out of her head and he's just sat there being all cocky (haha) and stuff?

A Tight Argument

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Word Count: 1,152

Summary: Bucky gets himself some new pairs of boxers because he knows how much you like them.

Author’s Note: Thank you so much for this fun request my love! I so hope you enjoy it! I love writing Bucky as a tease and we both know how much we love him in anything tight to accentuate all his parts (because they are all so good) love you! ❤❤❤

Warnings: teasing, fluff, Bucky’s thighs and bulge (haha), light implied smut

Folding laundry was not on your list of favorite things to do, but you had help from Bucky so that always made things better. “We are almost done, babe!” you sing, doing a little dance in happiness. Bucky’s eyes light up at the sight, tickling your side and saying, “thank god, I’m starving!”

“You’re always hungry, babe,” you tease, poking him back. Reaching into the bottom of the hamper you find the last pile of clothes, all of Bucky’s underwear. Pulling them out to fold you notice there are some new ones, “hey Buck, did you buy new boxer briefs, I don’t remember these?” you ask, holding up two pairs.

“I did. Some of the old ones got stretched out and I know how much you enjoy me in my tight boxers,” he replies, wiggling his eyebrows. “Ugh, I knew I should have never said anything to you!” you say lightly. “You didn’t have to say anything, y/n, you were practically drooling.”

Huffing, you throw the last pair at his face and stomp out of the bedroom, determined to find some food. Bucky emerges a few minutes later with a lop-sided grin, “whatcha eatin’?” he asks as he wraps his arms around your middle.

You scoop another bite of ice cream and turn around in his arms, feeding it to him, “something almost as yummy as you.” His smile is wicked, “it is pretty tasty,” he murmurs against your lips before kissing you with a strawberry ice cream flavored tongue.

After an afternoon of training followed by a team meeting with Steve you and Bucky head off to clean up and relax for the day. Shuffling around the kitchen trying to figure out what to do for dinner you don’t hear Bucky enter the room until he asks, “need some help, doll?”

You spin around, nearly dropping the eggs and milk. “Jeez Bucky, warn a girl will ya!” He chuckles, coming around the counter to grab the ingredients from you, “what were you thinking of making with eggs and milk?” he counters.

You don’t answer him, staring at his clothes, or lack thereof. “What are those?” you ask, voice merely a whisper as you point to his crotch area. “Oh, my new boxers!” he says far too cheerfully and you’re already onto his little game.

“I see,” you deadpan, turning around and bending to retrieve some veggies from the fridge. You’re sure to spend some extra time with your ass in the air, the boy shorts you’re wearing doing little cover it. “I thought we could have breakfast for dinner! Omelets, pancakes and some bacon, how does that sound?”

Bucky’s gaze is heated as he replies, “delicious, baby.” You saunter past him, “great, let’s get to cookin’! But you might want to throw on some clothes, that bacon grease gets hot!” You stare him down with a blank look, refusing to give in yet.

“I’ll be fine, it’s hot in here anyway.” He moves behind you, reaching up to grab some plates and as he leans against your back you can feel the hardness of his body. Sticking your ass into his crotch you feel the throb of his cock easily through the thin fabric of his boxers.

“I’m starving,” you say as you turn to scoot under this arm. Moving across the kitchen you start to chop vegetables for the omelets. “Me too, I’ll set the table then start the bacon,” Bucky says as he gathers plates and utensils.

You find it hard to tear your eyes away from his body as he moves back and forth carrying various things to the table. The tight boxers do little to hide the thick muscles of his thighs and his bulge is on full display. You inwardly groan, wanting to just give up and let him have his way with you, but you tighten your resolve and focus on the vegetables.

Bucky prepares the pan and starts cooking the bacon, dinner on the table in a short time. Everything is delish, including Bucky, shirtless at the table. He offers to wash the dishes, standing at the sink with his ass in perfect view.

“Fuck it” you mutter under your breath, walking over and hugging him from behind. You finders smooth over his chiseled abs, dancing their way down to the waistband of his boxers. He sucks in a breath as your hand dips below and gently strokes his smooth skin.

Shutting the water, Bucky turns in your arms, grabbing your ass in a firm squeeze just as Friday alerts the whole tower that Tony wants to see everyone in the common room stat. You both let out a loud groan of frustration, “what the fuck,” Bucky blurts out, gritting his teeth.

“Let’s hurry and get in there so we can get this over with,” you say, going to grab some pants. Bucky follows you and puts on jeans and a tee shirt. It isn’t until you’re walking out the door that you notice it’s the pair of jeans that fits extra snug. So snug, his ass and thighs can barely be contained.

Upon entering the common room, you see that most of the team had the same idea and seats are sparse. “Grab us a seat, I’m gonna get some water,” you whisper to Bucky before heading into the kitchen. He finds the only free spot, sitting next to Clint with his legs spread wide and a shit eating grin on his face.

“What’s up with you, Buck?” Clint asks, eyeing Bucky curiously. “Nothing really,” he replies, eyes fixed on your form in the kitchen. Clint follows his eyeline, “ugh, forget I asked,” he mumbles. Bucky chuckles, watching as you make your way toward him.

Your eyes roam over his body, landing on the obvious bulge in his tight jeans. Your eyes widen, Bucky loving your reaction as he keeps his gaze on you. Stopping at the couch across from him you sit on the edge, clearly lost in your own dirty thoughts as Tony starts talking.

The two of you stare at each other for what feels like hours, your skin feeling hot and the room suddenly too quiet. “Hey, y/l/n, Earth to y/n!” Tony’s voice rips you from your daydream, nearly sending you careening to the floor, “what?” Everyone in the room chuckles, your cheeks turning bright red as you duck your head. “Don’t worry, I’ll make this quick so you can get back to wherever you were in that head of yours,” Tony teases.

Bucky pulls his plush bottom lip between his teeth, spreading his legs just a bit further apart as he raises his eyebrows in your direction, blowing you a kiss. You give him your best dirty look, squeezing your legs together as you feel the wetness collect between them. He gives you a knowing look, his large hands gripping his thighs tighter as he licks his lips.

@book-dragon-13 @eurynome827 @hiddles-rose @itsunclebucky @jewelofwinter @jewels2876 @jhangelface0523 @loricameback @lollypop-lam @littledarlinhavefaithinme @littleredstarfish @mushyjellybeans @marvelgirl7 @nerdypinupcrystal @randomfandompenguin @sallycanwait68 @softpeachbarnes @sebastiansloserclub

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky x reader fluff #bucky barnes x reader fluff #bucky barnes #sebastian stan #thigh kink #thighs of betrayal #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes imagine #james buchanan barnes #bucky fluff #bucky x reader smut #bucky barnes smut

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readyplayerhobi · 4 years

Text

Flower | 09

; Hoseok x Reader

; Genre: Fluff, slight angst

; Word Count: 4.2k

; Synopsis: You finally decide to take a dip into the world of online dating and find the Flower dating app. One of the top matches for you proves to be a guy who looks to be your complete opposite; tattooed, pierced, a metalhead and oh…incredibly handsome. What happens when you throw caution to the wind and reach out to him?

; A/N: A Christmas present for you all! This has been my favourite chapter of Flower so far so I hope you all enjoy it too! Please reblog if you enjoyed and let me know what you think in a comment or ask!

; Flower Masterpost

The knock on your front door causes you to pause, clothes in your hand as you put them into your washing machine. You’d been frantically cleaning for the last hour, tidying up your already clean apartment to make sure that it all looked good. When you’d run out of stuff to clean, you’d resorted to washing your clothes early.

Just for something to do while you waited.

But now he’s here. Hoseok is here. At your apartment, for the first time. You’d been to his a few times now but he’d never been to yours. That had been your fault because you simply just hadn’t invited him. It hadn’t entered your head to do that. Not until Chungha got exasperated and pointed out that perhaps he’d like to see where you lived too.

She must have been right because Hoseok had eagerly accepted and so here you were. You’d finished work an hour and a half ago, the time spent since waiting for him to finish and head home to grab his stuff before coming to yours had given you plenty of time to fulminate.

Not only was Hoseok coming over to yours for the first time...but he was going to spend the night. He’d come up with a plan to drive you both to an amusement park a few hours away tomorrow, but it required getting up pretty early. As a result, you’d just blurted out that he could stay with you.

You could tell that he’d been a little shocked at your proposition, not because you were suggesting he stay but because it was you who was suggesting it. He probably hadn’t expected you to propose that for a while yet.

Especially not when you had plans to let him sleep in bed with you too. You’d discussed it with Chungha and Soyeon in depth, wondering whether you should make him sleep out on the couch for the night. They’d been adamant that you couldn’t do that given you were dating, and you’d been together for two months so why not just let him sleep next to you?

If he remained as polite as he’d been, he wouldn’t be putting any moves on you.

The easy way you’d said yes to it and suggested it to him told you, and everyone else who knew you, that you really wanted him to stay over. To sleep next to you. Honestly, it had one of your fantasies. Alongside the sexual ones, sometimes you just thought about him holding you in bed, cuddling with him.

Tonight you were going to get to experience that.

Quickly putting the rest of your clothes into the machine, you pause for a moment as you wonder if it’s stupid of you to be washing your clothes. But you push the thought of the way as you add powder and detergent before turning it on. A final glance around your small apartment lets you see that everything is as clean as it’s going to get and you take in a deep breath, smoothing down your shirt.

Opening the door slowly, you smile at Hoseok as he stands there waiting, a backpack over his shoulder and a bright smile on his own face. “Hi...err...sorry, I was putting my washing on. For some reason. Err...come in.”

He laughs softly as he enters, toeing off his shoes and carefully placing them on the rack you have set up next to the door without even being asked to. Moving forward through the tiny hall, you gesture to the living room and attached kitchen with a nervous movement.

“Errm so...this is the living room, obviously. And the kitchen. The door you just passed is the bathroom and the other door is my bedroom. It’s not very big,” You feel yourself heat up in embarrassment as your hands twist together. “I mean...I can still barely afford it but it’s home at least.”

Hoseok looks around slowly, eyes darting everywhere as he takes in the decor of the place. You weren’t allowed to put things on the wall so the only decorations were on the bookcase in the corner, your television stand, your couch, the coffee table and the drawers next to the bookcase. Looking around, you take it in the same way he does.

A fluffy throw in slate grey is draped over the couch, covering both the back and the seat cushions while an array of interesting cushions and plushies cover it. Your Pusheen plush sits in pride of place but there’s also a bao bun with a smiley face, an overly cartoony calico cat stretched out along the back and a Jack Skellington face on the couch as well.

Other plushies dot the room as well, from the set of Pokémon on the bookcase which included all the Eeveelutions you’d carefully collected over the years and various Pokéball’s to random cute ones and even a Pac-Man. Amongst all of that, was other stuff you’d collected; a range of animal shaped hand creams, a bunch of tiny Harry Potter chibi snow globes, some Funko POP figures featuring Disney characters along with a Totoro clock.

Random lights were currently turned on around the room including the PlayStation logo light, the Mario Mushroom light and a Yoshi egg. Part of you cringed as you took in how...colourful and pretty everything was compared to Hoseok. It looked so...delicate next to him.

He was stood there in black ripped jeans with a Guns n Roses shirt on, his tattoos the only thing that matched the room really. And yet he didn’t look disgusted by it, instead he just looked fascinated. Moving forward, he looked over the various books, Blu-Ray’s and video games you’d collected over the years along with the tiny Totoro figures that almost made up a little set.

“Oh my god...this is literally you in a room.” He marvelled, eyes wide as he took in the light shade that covered the light bulb hanging in the room. It was simple, just a curved circle but it was navy blue with tiny circles cut into little rockets and planets. When you turned it on, which was rarely, it made the room light up with a space theme.

“Err...yeah...I’m sorry, I know it’s a lot.” You apologise, rubbing at your forearm as you feel the swirl of negative feelings within you start to bubble. Already you’re regretting letting him into your home, into your safe space. This was where you felt most comfortable, where you felt happy. You only let people in that you trusted, and after two months you were pretty sure you could.

But it was still overwhelming, letting someone into the very private part of you and letting them see what made you happy.

“Don’t apologise, this is great. You’ve seen my place, it’s barren compared to this. I like it. It’s nice. Feels...cosy.” Hoseok said with a bright grin, white teeth flashing as you glanced at you before looking into your kitchen with eager curiosity.

The cuteness extends into there too, sweet woodland themed animal print oven gloves draped over the oven handle while a whole array of cute magnets cover the fridge along with pictures and important notices. A Totoro egg timer sits next to a little polka dot flower pot on the window sill while a cat themed calendar is propped up on the microwave.

A soft meow combined with pressure on his lower legs causes Hoseok to jump slightly, looking down before he grins even bigger. “Oh hello there! You must be Kasumi! Your mommy has told me so much about you.” He croons in a high pitched voice, the kind people only use on babies or animals.

But you can see the delight in his eyes as she sits in front of him, her cream fluffy coat combining with her dark paws and ears alongside astonishingly azure eyes to make her look like the prettiest cat ever. You were pretty sure that she was a ragdoll cat, which meant it was even more shocking that you’d found her in a shelter as a kitten.

She observes Hoseok for a moment longer before meowing sweetly at him, pushing up to butt his hand with her head and he coos as he crouches down, stroking and talking absolute nonsense to her. You get the sense that he’s just fallen in love at first sight with your cat, the smile on his face bigger than anything you’d seen as she flops to the floor, belly presented and batting at his hand playfully.

“I’m gonna steal your cat.” He teases, looking up at you with playful eyes and you snort, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Over my dead body. She loves me anyway, right Kasumi?” At her name, her ears twitch and she looks at you upside down, letting out a soft mewl as her loud purrs reach you. You grin and crouch down, arms open as you make kissing noises to her and she immediately jumps up, rushing over to you. Standing back up with her in your arms, you smile smugly at Hoseok and wonder why on earth you’re suddenly competing with him over the affection of your own cat.

It looks like the thought runs through his head as well as he shakes it before walking over to you, dropping his backpack past you onto the couch before he places his hands on your waist. Leaning close, you feel your shoulders rising at his attention and he chuckles quietly.

“I guess I’ve got some competition then, huh?” He murmurs before kissing you, the gesture ever so gentle. It’s nothing intense, yet it fires you up in ways you’d never really considered before. Here, in your home, with your cat in your arms and your boyfriend kissing you, you feel happier than you can remember in recent memory. It feels...almost normal.

Hoseok pulls away quickly, smiling as he looks you up and down with a raised brow. “Can I go change if you’re in your pyjamas already?”

His tone is ever so slightly teasing and you look away, pressing your face into Kasumi’s soft fur to avoid the embarrassment.

“Yeah...sorry. I don’t...I don’t see the point in wasting clothes when I’m at home. Pyjamas or die you know?” He snorts in response, kissing your cheek before grabbing his backpack again.

“I get it, I’ll be back in a minute.”

It turns out that Hoseok’s pyjamas are just...his normal lounge clothes apparently. A pair of plain black sweatpants is combined with an overly large Star Wars shirt, a few holes in both items that cause you to raise a brow in amusement. A far cry from the matching set of pyjamas you’re wearing; a set of Marauder's Map leggings combined with a black shirt and a gold Hogwarts crest.

“You can tell our personalities just from what we’re wearing.” He looks up from his phone, brows raised before looking between you both with a lopsided smile. Without a word, he walks over to you and wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you to him tightly.

Body stiffening automatically without you even meaning, you force yourself to relax in his embrace. You still weren’t used to the open affection Hoseok lavished on you, the casual touches of his not normal enough for you to accept openly like you did with your friends and family. But you were getting there.

You just wished that you could extend the open affection to him in the same way. It was hard though, you weren’t naturally open to physical gestures like that. Normally you just accepted them, but you wanted to discover to be open with him.

Because as you melted into his arms, you realised that you really liked this.

“What are you trying to say, huh? That I’m ratty and old while you’re young and put together?” He teases, squeezing tightly while rocking you from side to side, putting just enough pressure that you have to stagger back as you giggle against his chest.

“No! I mean...you are older than me…”

“Excuse you! I’m only two years older than you! Hardly Hugh Hefner here.” Hoseok protests, his voice loud but you can hear the playfulness in it. It makes you happy to hear that, knowing that he’s going along with you.

“You’re right...you don’t have as much money as him. I’m missing out.” At that, he leans back enough for you to see his face, his jaw dropped while he tries to stop a smile from spreading. It causes you to grin in response, squeezing him tightly in response before you press your face back to his chest. “It’s okay though, you’re pretty.”

“Wow...okay. Does that make me the Playboy Bunny in this situation?” You snort, hands lowering without even meaning to and making him jerk in surprise as you squeeze his ass without even thinking. The very ass that your friends had teased you about weeks ago.

“How do you look with bunny ears and a tail?”

He moves away at that, eyeing you suspiciously as he bites his lower lip, the flesh disappearing between his teeth. “Let’s never find out, shall we?”

“Awww. There’s people who find that kinky. They get dressed up as animals and stuff. Sometimes it’s just...they just wanna dress up but sometimes they dress up and it’s like...they wanna have sex in those suits.” Hoseok just stares at you in disgust, looking away before nodding slowly.

“Sounds great. I’m never doing that. Just want you to know,” he pauses, looking up at the ceiling before cringing and shrugging. You’re suddenly reminded of that woman trying alcohol meme as he makes a considering face. “Okay maybe I’d try it once if you were into it but I don’t think it’s for me.”

You steadfastly avoid his face at that, body heating rapidly at the thought of him thinking about having sex with you knew he probably had. If you were thinking that way about him, then there was no one way someone like him wasn’t thinking that way too. And it was a very strange sensation to know that he wanted you like that.

So you just gestured to the couch, watching as he sits down and scoops Kasumi into his lap. A quick phone call gets you food ordered from your favourite Chinese place, Hoseok stating his preferences to you as he flicks through Netflix and strokes the fluff ball he’s holding.

The next few hours pass by in a food coma bliss of delicious food combined with both of you starting a show on Amazon instead called The Boys. It had surprised you both with how violent and gory it was yet you enjoyed it thoroughly, much to Hoseok’s amusement. Maybe he thought your love of cute things meant that you didn’t like that kind of stuff but you enjoyed it just as much.

You both made it through three episodes before you found yourself getting tired, it was nearing 11pm and as lame as it made you sound...you were someone who went to sleep a bit earlier than that. It amused Hoseok when your head started to loll onto his shoulder, the pleasant warmth and comfort of his body as you cuddled up together lulling you into drowsiness.

Which was why when the episode finally ended, he stood up and gently pulled you up as well. “Come on sleepy, I think it’s time for bed. Sometime’s tired.” He was using that voice that he’d used on Kasumi earlier, and part of you wanted to protest it but you were too drowsy to bother. So instead, you went around the room after shaking his hands off to turn off all the lights.

Hoseok went to the bathroom while you did that, telling you that he was just going to go to the toilet and brush his teeth. By the time you had finished cleaning everything up and throwing the empty Chinese cartons away, he was standing a little awkwardly outside your bedroom.

Smiling, you opened the door and let him in. “You can go in.”

He gave a little smile before heading in and pausing as he looked around once more. Your room was barely big enough for the double bed in it, one side pressed up against the wall while a bedside table rested next to it. A wardrobe was next to that and a chest of drawers along with a mirror.

“Err...sorry...it’s a little cramped.” You say quietly, rubbing your arms nervously once more and he just shakes his head at you with a small sigh that sounds more amused than you’d expected.

“You need to stop apologising for everything. It’s fine, honestly. Don’t stress yourself over it.” He heads over to the bed and looked down at it, teeth clanking against his lip ring as it looked down. “I’m gonna guess that you sleep on this side?”

Pointing at the side closest to the bedside table, you go to nod before realise he’s being rhetorical. It was blatantly obvious which side you slept on, given the other side was covered in a large array of plushies. From more Pokémon to a Star Wars teddy, Toothless from How To Train Your Dragon, a cute cat face, a fluffy llama and so much more.

The side Hoseok would be sleeping on was covered in them and you cover your face in dual embarrassment and horror, realising that you’d blatantly forgotten to clean it off for him. “Err...yeah. You can just...put them on the floor or something. Sorry, I mean…”

You cut yourself off from apologising again at his look but he just smiles and shrugs. “It’s okay, I’ll sort it out.”

Quickly, you leave the room to prevent any further embarrassment for you. Sometimes you really wondered why Hoseok stayed with you given how different you both obviously were. The thought made your chest hurt and you pressed as it, frowning as you did your own nightly routine. It took a little longer than Hoseok’s as you had a whole skincare routine to go through and so ten minutes later you walked back in with a face mask on.

He was lying on his back, pillows propped up behind him as he looked through his phone and you noted with amusement the little ice cream plush that was still situated next to him. In fact...he made the most bizarre image laid there.

Your bedding was white, with tiny rainbows ending in clouds interspersed with yellow stars and little cartoons unicorns and pegasus that jumped and frolicked. You liked your bedding to look as cute as everything else, only it looked childish with him in it now.

His tattoos look at complete odds with it all, dark hair pushed back and making him look even hotter than ever with it all messed up. He looked dark and brooding in your bed, anathema to your bedding and it was both adorable and bizarrely attractive.

A sudden thought rushes through your head that one day, if everything goes right, you’ll be having sex with him in that bed. Cheeks heating, you quickly rush forward and sit on the bed carefully, plugging your phone into the charger before looking back over at him.

“Do you need your phone charging too? I have another cable and plug.” You offer and he lets out a noise, head turning towards you before his eyes finally pull away. When he finally notices your face, he jerks away in shock before his face contorts and he squints at you.

“The fuck is on your face? Are you cosplaying Michael Myers or something?” Hoseok mutters, leaning forward a bit and looking you over. You try not to laugh, not wanting the face mask to move and you push at his face lightly.

“Don’t make me laugh, you’ll ruin it. It’s just a face mask, my night routine.” Laying back on the bed, he pulls a face at you.

“You do that every night? Isn’t it tiring?” You shake your head, checking in your Twitter feed as you wait for the time to pass until you can take it off again. “Is that why your skin always looks so pretty? Or is that makeup?”

“Hoseok! I haven’t worn makeup the last three times we’ve met up. You haven’t noticed between that and makeup?” He just stares at you for a moment before shrugging, his hand suddenly running along your back in slow and steady movements. It feels like electricity moves through your body as he does so, but you can’t tell any sexual intention behind it.

“I feel like no matter what I say here...I’m going to get myself in trouble. So...I will be smart and say that you look beautiful with and without makeup.” His smile is boylike then, making his entire face look far younger than he actually is and you sighed softly in defeat, shaking your head before checking the clock on your bedside table. “Why does your clock look like that?”

You pull off the face mask and throw it into the small trash can underneath the table, gently patting at your face to get the excess moisture to absorb. Glancing at the clock, you note it’s unusual shape and size while the orange numbers glow.

“It’s one of those clocks that simulate sunrise to help make it easier to wake up in the morning. I struggle with feeling tired and in winter I never want to get up. Err...I tend to get a little...or a lot...depressed with it. So I got this because daylight is meant to make you happier so ten minutes before my alarm goes off, it starts to light up and simulate a sunrise. It works pretty well in fairness.” You finish, rubbing your cheeks before grabbing the next step of your routine.

“Really? Huh. Cool.” He hands you his phone once you’ve finished, turning onto his side watching you intently. The attention makes you feel warm inside and finally you’re ready to go to bed, lifting the covers and cautiously sliding in next to him. It feels warm and comfortable as usual, your pillow and bedding maximised for comfort.

Reaching over, you turn off the lamp, leaving you both in darkness. The room feels oppressively silent at that moment before you realise that you can hear his breathing next to you. Suddenly, you feel hyper aware of his every movement and sound, your own body stiff beneath the covers.

A few minutes pass by like that, you unsure what to do now and too tense to sleep even after feeling so drowsy earlier. And then suddenly Hoseok reaches out, his hand resting on your stomach tentatively before stroking gently when you don’t react.

“You’re so tense.” He laughs softly and you feel the need to apologise again. But you hold it back, knowing that you have no reason to apologise. Hoseok knows by now what you’re like, he’s aware of your shy and awkward nature and he must know how out of your comfort zone you’re feeling right now.

Which is why you appreciate how slow he moves, his hand spreading heat through your stomach as his slow movements lead you to relaxing ever so slightly. He keeps doing it, his breathing just as hypnotising and you find your eyelids fluttering shut as the earlier drowsiness comes back.

“Can you turn over? On your side?” Hoseok asks softly, hand pausing and it takes a few seconds for you to acknowledge what he’d said. But you do so, shifting lazily until your back is facing him and your head is pressed comfortably into the pillow with your hand slotted beneath both pillows.

And then carefully shuffles up behind you, a warm and heavy weight sliding around your waist as he wraps an arm around you. Pulling slightly, he tugs you into a more comfortable position and you’re suddenly wide awake again. Even though you’ve been cuddled up with him before on a couch, it’s somehow completely different now that you’re lying together in bed.

Every bit of his front presses to your back and you’ve never been so aware of someone else. He feels like a furnace behind you, though you’re not sure if that’s because he actually is warm or if it’s because your body is burning hot. But you like it, as nervous as it makes you feel.

Your limbs feel like you could go outside and run a marathon yet the idea of leaving the bed is so far beyond you. His warm breath gently puffs against your neck as he settles a little more and you swallow hard, forcing your body to relax as you get used to the feeling. It’s been a long time since you’ve slept next to someone, and you’d never felt comfortable with them.

But you do with him. You do with Hoseok.

And without even realising it, your wandering mind begins to drift off as you lay there comfortably, feeling safe and content about everything.

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pandas-pandemonium · 4 years

Text

Per Sempre Insieme - Chapter 3

Pairings (in this chapter): Brunox Fem!Reader

Warnings (in this chapter): Mention of loss of loved ones

Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 |

Chapter Summary: You get to know the capos of the respective major teams in the newly reformed Passione. You also get a little closer to Bruno.

2.9k words

The hallways were unbelievably long and daunting; doors lined at the side, a good distance apart from one another. You didn’t need to look inside to guess how big the rooms must be. Now when you think about it, you didn’t know where the Passione headquarters were. It seemed to be a rather extravagant and well furnished building, it definitely didn’t seem like something that could go unnoticed in a city area, so that narrowed down the locations. The walls were also lined with paintings that looked like they sold for a lot. Something told you the Picasso painting on the wall wasn’t fake. You looked away from the decorations and to your guide, Bruno Buccellati. The older man, clad in a black suit with white paint dots and decorated with gold zippers walked in front of you, looking back every now and then to make sure you were still with him.

“Signore Bruno,” you called after him, hurriedly picking up your pace to reach his side to talk comfortably with him.

Bruno paused and turned his head towards you, “Just call me Bruno, Y/N. We'll be working together from now on, it would be good if we started to treat each other like team mates,” he said.

“Oh, um alright then. Bruno, where are we going?” you asked.

“To see Abbacchio, the capo of the data and information gathering team. He should be able to help you find your sister’s killer. Also, we do need to assign you to be under a capo's surveillance and guidance to help you familiarise yourself with Passioné's system.”

You hummed in acknowledgement, nodding your head in agreement. “I guess you're right. By the way, do the members of Passione all live here?”

Bruno shook his head, “Only if they need to. But most teams reserve a room in advance to have their meetings. Of course, we have various hideouts at our disposal all over Italy. It’s just your luck that today most of the capos and their team members are here.”

Just as he spoke, he stopped outside a door and knocked on it twice. There was no answer. Wordlessly, Bruno stepped back, a light blue humanoid emerging from him and unzipping the door. You blinked, you did not expect him to use his stand just to get into a room by force. Silently, you made sure to remind yourself that locked rooms would not be any help against him, but he would be very helpful in such a locked room situation.

Once he stepped through the hole, he looked back at you, offering his hand.

“Well?”

You blinked again and snapped yourself out of your surprise and took his hand, helping you through the hole. The inside of the room was a little smaller than Giorno's office, but still as extravagant. The floor was carpeted, and at the corner, a billiards table was stationed. You took notice of two men playing a game of billiards, the shorter male seemed to be a little dejected. In the center, just next to the billiards table was a similar coffee table to the one in Giorno's office. However, instead of a velvet red plush sofa, it was a faux black leather sofa set, arranged around the table. As your eyes wandered, you noticed the rather large figure lying on one of the sofas, headphones on his head and his feet propped up on a cushion.

“You guys! Did you not hear me knock?” asked Bruno, his voice instantly commanding attention. The two men playing billiards paused, the taller one quickly placing his cue stick on the table and speaking.

“Sorry Bruno! Narancia and I were too into our game of pool ya see,” he said. Your eyes were instantly drawn to the bold patterns of his clothes. A purple checkered cropped sweater and white tiger print pants with a purple tint to it. Not quite something you’d wear, but somehow…it fit its wearer? The shorter male's outfit was a little less loud than the others. You assumed he was the 'Narancia' the loudly dressed man had referred to. Unlike his friend's purple theme, he was sporting more of an orange look. Subconsciously, their colour theme reminded you of a kids’ show called Barney that was showing quite frequently lately.

“Next time, pay attention! Anyways, Abbacchio, I thought you said you had work to do! What are you doing lazing about on the sofa?” Bruno asked, his hands on his hips and his eyes stern as he looked over to the long-haired man who was now awake, but still in his previous position.

“Finished it. It was just some reports and payments to deal with anyways,” he replied, now shifting himself into a seating position. As he spoke, his gaze turned to you, instantly turning sharp.

“Who’s the chick by the way? Some new recruit Giorno picked up from the streets?” he asked, his gruff voice held an edge to it. You shifted uncomfortably under his hostile gaze. This man didn’t seem to trust easily.

“Yes, she is a new recruit and I wanted to introduce her to all of you. It’s a good thing Mista is here, because I do need her to decide which team she wants to be in,” Bruno explained. He looked over to you. “Now, how about you introduce yourself? These two men, except the younger one there, are both capos of their respective teams.”

“A-ah right. I am Y/N Pellerini and I just joined Passione today. I look forward to working with all of you,” you said, standing straight, your hand placed on your heart. The first one to respond was the loudly dressed man.

“Nice to meet ya, Y/N. I’m Guido Mista, but just call me Mista. I’m the capo of the assassination team, so if you’re interested, I'd be happy to take you under my wing!” he said with a grin, and a hand held out for you to shake, which you did firmly, looking him straight in the eyes. The next one to introduce themselves was the younger man.

“I’m Narancia! Glad you joined us!” he said with a wide grin and a hand out as well. You shook his too. It was then you turned to the man Bruno brought you to see in the first place. The tall, light-haired man groaned, getting up and stared down at you. His tall, muscular frame towered over your smaller one.

“Hmph, I really don’t need anymore newbies to watch so if you consider joining my team you better pull your load. Since we are colleagues though, you can just call me Abbacchio. Not Capo or any formal titles like that. That’s only for my team mates,” he said. There was no handshake, for his arms remained crossed over his chest as he glared at you, his violet eyes almost piercing your soul.

“Abbacchio! Be nice to the new recruit!” Bruno responded, placing an arm on your shoulder. “Also, I didn’t come here just to introduce her to all of you. She came here for a favour, she needs you to find her sister’s killer, if possible.”

Abbacchio tilted his head as he processed the request. “Hm, and why should I do that, Pellerini?” he asked, looking at you.

“Because we’re both members of Passione? If loyalty is not enough, I'm willing to pay you,” you said, trying to negotiate.

“Huh, if you’re gonna pay me, it better be a lot. I hate using my stand for someone I barely know,” he said.

“I’ll give you 10% of the earnings I make from my jobs from Passione for a month,” you said, your eyes sharp as you looked up at the capo. He laughed and grinned, and took out his hand, and…spat on it. Your face contorted into one of disgust as you looked at his saliva-stained hand that was outstretched.

“Make it 20 and we'll shake on it. You gotta problem?” he asked. You could just hear the mockery in his voice.

“Leone!” Bruno exclaimed, stepping forward. You shook your head, putting your hand out to stop Bruno.

“It’s fine, Bruno.” You then faced the light-haired man, “It’s a deal, Abbacchio,” you said and spat onto your own hand as well before shaking Abbacchio’s. Internally, you had to suppress a gag as you thought of the gross wetness between your palms. It appeared your new co-workers were shocked too, at your stunt. Both Mista, Narancia and Bruno’s eyes were wide as you shook Abbacchio’s spit hand.

“Heh, you've got guts I'll give you that. Alright, I'll help you, signora. Once you’re done with your little orientation just come back here and give me the details I need to find your sister,” he said, turning away. Away from your view, you could barely see him take out his handkerchief to wipe off his hand.

You smiled; you were one step closer to finding your sister’s killer. But first, you still needed a group to join.

“Bruno, what other capos do I need to meet? As appealing joining either the Assassination or Info team is, I want to know my other options,” you said. Bruno looked at you before thinking.

“Well, he does owe you an apology, plus they’re quite a crucial team to Passione. Very well, the only other capo in the building right now is the Capo of the Transportation team. They’re the ones who brought you here,” he said. You pressed your lips in a line.

“I see. Well, let's go then. I'll make my mind up after wards,” you replied. With that, Bruno led you out the room, this time through the door as he should have.

~*~*~*~

As Bruno guided you to the next capo you had to meet, you both engaged in small talk. The consigliere was polite, and seemed quite welcoming to your questions.

“So, who’s this capo of the Transportation team and what do they do? They can’t just be solely responsible for only transporting items…right?” you asked.

Bruno shook his head as he pressed the lift button to head down. “No, the Transportation team is a new team created by Giorno to replace the Narcotics team after we got rid of them. The group was originally just a bunch of stand users lurking around the end of Passione’s ranks. Giogio saw their potential and brought them together as the Transportation team. That’s just a general term though. They operate quite closely with other teams and ‘transport’ things, whether it’s bringing other teams and cargo to other locations safely and undetected, or kidnapping,” he explained.

You took in the information carefully, at least you knew more or less what you were getting into. When the two of you got into the lift, your guide spoke up.

“Just now, you mentioned you wanted to avenge your sister’s death, didn’t you?” he asked. The question caught you by surprise. You did bring the topic up earlier, but you didn’t think someone would ask you about it.

“Uh…yeah,” you replied, looking down at your feet. You heard the man hum in understanding.

“I see. If it’s not too personal, may I ask when and what happened?”

You swallowed; you weren’t sure if you wanted to say everything. After all, even though it had been a couple years, you still haven’t come to terms with your sister’s death.

“It was a stand user… I’m sure of it. I don’t know why the bastard did it, but one day after school, she was just…” you trailed off. You couldn’t say it. It hurt too much to think about it. The morbid mess that met your eyes the moment you entered your house. As you felt the tears welling up, you felt a hand stroke your back.

“It’s alright. I’m sure Abbacchio will be able to track them down. If it was a stand user, I’m sure it wouldn’t be too hard to find them,” he said. Somehow, his deep tenor voice gave you sense of calmness and reassurance, as if you could depend on him. You smiled back and held his hand in yours.

“Thank you, Bruno. I’m grateful, really,” you said. Your sudden gesture took him aback for a brief moment, his cheeks darkening as he shook his head.

“It’s nothing. It’s what you’re here for anyways, and as a new member of the family, we’ll do our best to find your sister’s killer.”

Just then, the lift doors opened, leading out to a large lounge room.

Ahead of you, you could see a group of people gathered around a coffee table, lounging on black leather sofas. Immediately, you recognized two of them; the lanky man, who now when you could see properly in bright light, had rather noticeable light blue hair and striking blue eyes to match. The other woman’s features was almost similar to the other man’s with the same light blue eyes. However, her hair was coloured a pale, cotton candy pink.

“There they are,” you muttered under your breath. The duo that was responsible for bringing you over. Without thinking twice, you marched up to the group, Bruno hurriedly following after you.

“So, there you are,” you commented, glaring up at the man who had trapped you in concrete, Penny Lane's user.

“Oh? So, the boss has finished his business with you then?” the man asked, unfazed by your hostile attitude.

“Giovanna has told me all I needed to know. As much as I hate to be saying it, but it looks like we’ll be seeing each other more often,” you spat. The man chuckled before holding a hand out.

“Listen, I'm sorry about having to leave you like that. But my partner and I were only following the Don's orders,” he explained. You looked down at his hand before huffing and shaking it anyways, much to the man's pleasure.

“Great! Good to know you aren’t too hung up about it! I’m Acquario, member of the Transportation Team. Our capo is still in the washroom, but I'm sure you’ll be able to meet him soon,” he said. You scanned the rest of the group, behind Acquario were two other women, talking idly. One of them you didn’t recognise, but you definitely recognised the tall, blue-eyed woman who knocked you out. Just as you were looking at her, she turned and you both made eye contact.

“Oh! It’s you, the new recruit!” she exclaimed as she got up to walk towards you. “Bilancia, Acquario there is my lovely little brother. Pleasure to meet you, I hope you aren’t too shaken up from your journey here,” Bilancia smiled causing you to frown. Acquario had the decency to apologise, but this woman was just making it seem like you came here voluntarily.

“I wouldn’t know about the journey. After all, someone so graciously knocked me out and brought me here without my consent,” you replied, bitterly. If she noticed your annoyance, she did a good job ignoring it. Instead, she laughed it off, forcefully taking your hand to shake it. You groaned, you just met this woman and you barely liked her already. You wanted to comment on her lack of manners, when Bruno cleared his throat, signaling to you to look towards his direction.

Sure enough, a tall, dark haired man approached. He was clad in a three-piece suit, as well as adorned with expensive accessories. To complement his high-class attire, the man also exuded an aura of confidence and charisma. The man then stopped in front of Bruno, bowing slightly in greeting.

“Bruno! So good to see you, what are you doing down here?” he asked. It was barely noticeable, but you could hear a slight hint of a French accent in his voice.

“I was just showing our new recruit around the building,” he replied, gesturing towards you. You hurriedly stepped forward, wearing a polite smile and an outstretched hand.

“[Y/N] Pellerini. Pleasure to meet you sir,” you said. The taller man nodded, his grey eyes scanning over you while he shook your hand.

“Vierge Bianco, Capo of the Transportation Team. Pleasure to meet you too, signora. If you haven’t chosen a team to join yet, I would be pleased to welcome you into mine. We are a little short-staffed after all,” he said. Bruno then looked at you.

“Well, as much as I would love to introduce you to the other capos of Passione, there are just too many to count. Also, the three you've met are the only ones here in the main headquarters right now. Have you made your decision yet?” he asked.

You swallowed, your [E/C] eyes scanning the room, first looking at Vierge, then the other members of the Transportation team. You also thought about Abbacchio and Mista, the Information Team and the Assassination Team. A knot appeared on your forehead as you frowned, this was difficult. Should you choose to join Abbacchio’s team, where you would be able to gather as much as data as possible on your sister’s killer? Or do you join Mista's team? Where you would be most comfortable in, seeing as your skill set is well suited for the Assassination team. On the other hand, you could join the Transportation team, where your stand could come into handy? You mulled over your options for a while, before you finally made up your mind.

You smiled as you looked back at Bruno, “I’ve made up mind.”

A/N: Had to delete and repost this, so there are quite a few edits. I prefer this version better honestly. Please vote for the team of your choice! Would you choose one of our newly appointed capos, or the new capo of the new team? Also, the Transportation team is just a group of OCs I had to make up on the spot, you’ll see them a lot more often as they’re quite important to the story.

Fugo will come around soon enough, don’t worry.

#jojo's bizarre adventure #yandere jjba #yandere jojo #team buccellati #bruno bucciarati #guido mista #narania ghirga #leone abbacchio #yandere imagines #yanderexreader #per sempre insieme #pandas-pandemonium

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taehyungsgrowl · 5 years

Note

Let me tell you, Duncan once catch y/n and Jim stalking and thristing about some pretty boys on insta. he had all the feelings, dunc was a little discouraged, self conscious, a little sad with a mix of mad but mostly JEALOUS. He hide in his office for a while thinking about giving them the silent treatment but finally deciding on being more rough (n' extra dom) with them that night trying to show them he is the only one that can make them feel so freaking good 👌 -drunk anon

{gif credit to @arthmorgn}

This is an old ask, but since we’ve all been missing Duncan x Sugar Babies - I thought it’d be a good time to revisit this.

This made my tummy do little flips because.. well.. jealous Duncan is a whole ass concept that I adore. Because thirsty hoe.

A few extra thank yous to @langdonsinferno @wickedlangdon , and @lvngdvns s for helping build my dom!duncan. Also.. considering the standards in this fandom - this isn’t very mean!dom or extra rough. So. Please be nice lol I’ve gotten far too used to writing soft pieces.

As always, thank you for reading & enjoy!

“It’s unfair, really.” Jim slumped into the plush sofa. His thumb scrolled on his screen, “He’s just so damn hot.”

“I know.” Y/N was laid on the couch with her head resting on Jim’s lap. “Let me see!” she took the phone from his hands to closer examine the image on his phone.

“He’s so pretty. I bet he only drinks and eats kombucha and kale salads.” She commented out loud on the photo of the attractive Instagram influencer that both Jim and she obsessed with.

Duncan came around the corner to see his babies playing nice on the couch. He always loved seeing how those two could feed off each others energies. The perfect little bundle.

“He’s just so damn hot.” Duncan heard Jim say. His lips twitched up in a smile, thinking Jim was talking about him. He continued to overhear their conversation - he quickly put together they weren’t talking about him. Heat rushed to his face and his heart dropped.

It was ridiculous to feel upset over it; he knew that. But it didn’t matter. He looked down at himself, noticing how his dark shirt clung a little to his tummy. What did Donavan the Instagram model have that Duncan didn’t?

“I think anyone who has to Facetune their photos so much, isn’t worth all the attention.” Duncan spoke up as he approached them.

“Besides, I can - or rather, I am giving you guys the life style he promotes, am I not?” Duncan sat on the ottoman, scratching his beard - something he always did when he was annoyed. It was only one of the reasons he didn’t play poker with his friends anymore - they figured out his tell tale sign.

Y/N and Jim exchanged a look. What in the hell had gotten into Duncan? “It’s all in good fun,” Jim offered, putting his phone away.

“It’s not like you don’t follow models on instagram. Don’t tell me you’re jealous, daddy?” Y/N liked pushing his buttons. Jim stifled a giggle and avoided Duncan’s eyes. Y/N may be the brat in their relationship, but Jim always managed to go down with her.

Duncan rolled his eyes so far back into his head, “Right. Because I would be jealous of him,” he scoffed. “You two enjoy your screen time. I have work to do.”

“Shit..” Jim whispered quietly.

“He’ll be alright, Jim.” Y/N reassured him. “We gotta think of ways to make it up to him,” she winked and poked at his ribs, making him giggle.

Duncan retreated back to his office to get work done. Or so he told himself. In truth, he hated how jealous he felt, but he couldn’t entertain the idea of his babies wanting someone who wasn’t him. They were his and always will be.

He understood that the person on the screen wasn’t a real threat to him or what he shared with them; but he didn’t want Y/N to start comparing him to an unrealistic hyped up model. Not when they had something real.

His fingers tapped on the smooth mahogany - too lost in his own thoughts to get any actual work done.

The door creaked open and he looked up from his absentminded doodles he’d made on a sheet of paper.

Jim and Y/N treaded lightly into the corridors of his office. Both on them dressed for bed; Jim in his plaid boxers and Y/N in an old T-shirt that came down to her thighs.

Duncan had managed to avoid speaking to them for the rest of the day. Sure, the silent treatment wasn’t the most mature response to the situation, but Duncan didn’t play fair.

“Are you coming to bed with us?” Jim pouted. Sweet Jim, Duncan thought. He could see the desperation on him - both of them, really. He glanced at Y/N and how she nervously toyed with the hem of her shirt.

A dark chuckle passed his lips as he stood from his desk and walked over to them. He noticed they way Jim and Y/N’s hands brushed against each other as he approached them.

“Now,” he grabbed Jim’s chin, looking into his blue eyes, “Are you sure you don’t want someone else in bed with you, baby?” The corner of his eye watched his other sugar baby.

“N-no,” Jim stuttered, “We want you, daddy. Only you.”

“Hmm,” he dropped Jim’s chin and turned to face his girl, “What about you, princess? Are you aching for someone else’s cock?”

She shook her head timidly. The way his crystal blue eyes har darkened and his jaw was tense, made her insides turn.

“Use your words, Y/N.” his eyes narrowed.

“No, daddy,” she licked her lip, not daring to drop her gaze from his eyes.

“Seemed that both of you” each one of his hands found their way to their crotches. He gently palmed over Jim’s hard on while his left index finger slowly ran up and down Y/N’s panties, “were more preoccupied with someone else. Don’t forget; you’re mine.”

Poor Jim began attempted to grind himself on Duncan’s palm.

He felt the blood rush to his lower abdomen as Duncan continued to touch him, “Please,” he finally let out. There was something magical about the way his body responded to Duncan. To his voice, to his touch, even a simple look made his knees go weak.

The older man’s hand stopped briefly. Only enough for him to lean towards Jim. Jim felt Duncan with every fiber of his being - his hot breath ghosted over his lips as they hung open. They always say that the moment before a kiss is better than the kiss itself.

His blue eyes fluttered as his anticipated Duncan’s mouth on him. And he did feel Duncan’s lips. Just not in the tender kiss he expected.

Duncan leaned forward and caught Jim’s plump bottom lip between his pearly white teeth. He tugged back, brining the boys lip with him. A possessive gesture. One that made Y/N grow wetter by simply watching.

“Ahh,” a strangled whimper left Jim’s mouth. Duncan released him with a sinful curve of his lips.

He turned his attention to Y/N, who had now soaked through her cotton panties. His fingers were sticky with her arousal and all he’d done was brush up against her clothed pussy. That’s my girl, he thought.

Duncan brought his fingers up to his mouth - sucking on them slowly.

So s l o w l y.

Jim’s cock twitched in his boxers at the sight of Duncan’s hollowed cheeks and pink bubblegum tongue.

“C-come to bed with us,” she begged, “please,”

Hiss gaze was like that of a tiger watching his prey, glancing between the two of them. His hands had stopped their pleasing motions.

“Show me how much you want me.” he shrugged. His typically cool demeanor never faltering. Unamused smirk twitched (much like his own growing bulge).

Jim and Y/N felt the tension in their shoulders drop. Both still so turned on for Duncan and his power games. He loved to make them edge and beg for him.

Y/N took Duncan’s smooth hand and dragged in under her shirt. He could feel the softness of her skin and each dip and curve of her body. She stopped when he grasped at her breast, “We’re all yours,” she whispered.

Duncan laughed, pulling her in close. His tongue protruded from his lips and licked a stripe up her neck. She shuddered lightly feeling marked by Duncan.

Jim licked his own lips in anticipation again. Duncan always loved making that antsy boy wait. He needed a lesson in patience anyway.

“On your knees, princess.” the rasp of his voice rang low in her ears.

Promptly, she dropped down without missing a beat.

“Now, baby boy.” he grabbed the back of Jim’s hair, tugging it just enough to sting a little, “Gonna show me how damn hot you think I am,” he teased him.

“Yes, daddy.” eager little Jim joined his co-baby on the floor.

Without much more buildup, their daddy took his hard cock out for them. He loved feeling their greedy mouths on him. Never quite fighting for him, but always working together for Duncan.

Y/N Jim let their tongues and wet mouths be the ones who ask Duncan for forgiveness. With each swipe of their tongue on a vein was like a boost to Duncan’s ego.

Fingers laced into their hair as he held them close to him. Each one them taking turns with his cock. Kissing it. Sucking it. Pleasing him.

Jim grabbed Y/N’s chin after releasing Duncan from his mouth and kissed her hard. She felt her lips turn to mush at the hardness of his kiss. Her tongue slipped between his parted lips and tasted the faint taste of Duncan. Jim and Y/N groped at his length and jerked his forward.

“God,” a robust groan came from Duncan, “Feels so good,” his fist clenched in their hair as he released his load on their shared kiss.

His dick stayed hard with the scene of them cleaning his cum off each other. Sloppy, wet, and erotic was the only way to describe it. They shared his hot white gloss.

“Get up,” he commanded, once they had wiped his cum off their faces. They sheepishly obeyed his orders, standing up again. “I’m not done with you yet.” He circled around them; both covered in his cum and with obvious wet spots on their underwear. He could practically see Jim’s leaking red cock through the dark fabric.

Duncan nodded his head towards the desk, a silent order. One that Jim knew well. All it took was one look and Jim knew. He glanced back at Y/N before bending over the desk and spreading his legs slightly.

Blood was pounding in his hot ears as he awaited what Duncan would do to him. Would he start by spreading open his cheeks and ramming his cock inside? Or maybe he’d take his time and swat his ass a few times until it was red, raw, and ready to be pounded. Either wave, Jim was aching at the thought.

He tried to subtly rub himself against the edge of the desk. The hard soon sent a painful wave of pleasure.

Duncan walked over to the expensive mahogany desk. He ran his long fingers over the surface; let the gingerly dance along the smoothes. He knew the way Jim’s stomach was bubbling now. So eager for what awaited his baby boy.

And Y/N. His fucking princess; left soaked and agape as Duncan gave her no further instruction. Yet.

Her eyes were fixated on Duncan’s veiny hand and how it seemed to manuever expertly. She wanted -no. Needed to have them on her.

Duncan’s dark eyes peeled away from her momentarily as he pulled something out of a drawer. He held the shiny, black, toy in both hands slightly rubbing the wand in a jerking motion.

Jim’s pretty pink hole began clenching. Both him and Y/N had previously experienced this toy of Duncan’s. Jim’s mind became hazy remembering all the orgasms that little wand hand given him. He bucked his hips into the desk again, miserable whimper leaving his mouth.

“Oh, baby,” Duncan’s coo was covered in false sympathy, “Desperately trying to get off like that on my desk isn’t going to make me fuck you any faster.”

He turned his attention to Y/N who was now pressing her thighs together. Her sticky arousal gliding down her legs. He motioned her to him with his index finger; another silent order his baby new well.

Y/N stood in between the two men. She couldn’t help but notice how heavily Jim was breathing.

Duncan handed her the sleek anal vibrator. It felt heavy in her hands; usually the one controlling it, controlling her, was Duncan.

He walked over to Jim and tore off his underwear. The cool air hitting his precum soaked head made him hiss. “Duncan, please. It hurts now. I - I need to cum,” Jim cried out.

“Duncan?” Duncan shook his head, “Oh, you know better than that, baby. Don’t tell me someone else is your daddy.” he pulled Jim’s hair back, his head rolled back to look at Duncan. “Who’s your daddy?”

The harsh tug on his scalp made his skin tingle. The mixture of pain and pleasure taking over.

“You!!” Jim yelped, “you, daddy.”

The verbal validation was great for Duncan, but nothing was better than the physical manifestation of having them crumble at his will.

He released his grip on Jim’s hair. Pulling Y/N over to him, he made her stand directly behind Jim. Ghosting his lips over hers, he quietly said, “You’re going to ruin Jimmy for me.” his voice was low and husky.

Duncan spit on two of his fingers and smeared his hot saliva on Jim’s opening.

A barely there gasp came from both of his babies. Y/N watched in awe as Jim’s ass reacted to Duncan’s touch. She gulped silently, nervous about what he meant by ruining Jim.

“You’re gonna follow each one of my orders, princess,” it wasn’t question. He stepped back, seeing the ruffled expressions of his baby girl. “Go on,” He unbuckled the belt of his pants, “Cover it in your spit. Get it nice and wet for him.”

She stuck the toy in her mouth, wrapping her lips securely around it. She made obscene sounds, sucking it for Duncan.

“That’s enough,” he put his hand up and held on to his belt tightly.

“Stretch him, open,” Duncan was so hard. He had a perfect view of Jim’s asshole, red, wet, and gaping.

She carefully pressed the end of the toy to his hole, “Please,” begged Jim.

“I didn’t say stop,” Duncan quipped.

She continued pushing in as Jim cursed under his breath. His knuckles were white from the grip on the desk.

“Turn the pulse on - fastest setting. You know the one you like so much, baby?” he smirked.

Y/N turned the vibration settings on, following Duncan’s order. Jim’s thighs were shaking. He rutted his hips into the sharp edge.

Duncan kneeled behind Y/N and discarded her panties. He smacked her ass ruthlessly, making sure his handprints were left behind. He gripped at her fleshy, full bottom after each spank.

“Harder,” he barely heard her speak. “Harder?” he repeated.

Jim was losing himself as Y/N continued to pump him with the toy.

“Don’t test me, Y/N.” he spanked her ass again, bruising it with his palm.

Duncan spread her cheeks apart, taking in a good look at her glistening pussy.

Her lips were parted by his long middle finger as he gathered her juices. His fingers searched for her swollen bud. Once he found the sensitive bundle, he pinched down on it.

Duncan was brutal on her pussy. His fingers fucked into her deeply, curving and scraping on the spongy pink flesh.

Bratty Y/N was no where to be seen. She was a whimpering mess as Duncan worked her hard, “What was that?” he taunted.

“Tell me who makes you feel so good,” he growled and bit into her ass.

“You daddy,” her childish whine making both Jim and Duncan moan.

Her hold on the toy that penetrated Jim was shaky, making each and every thrust unexpected for Jim.

“That’s right. Never forget who makes you feel like this. Both of you.” he attached his lips to her clit and sucked it. Her taste was as sweet as nectar and he was taking straight from the fruit.

“So, fucking close,” Jim panted. Each wave the toy sent to his prostate sending him into overdrive.

“Turn it off.” he mumbled into her cunt. “Turn off the toy,”

She fumbled shortly but managed to obey him.

“You’re not cumming yet. You’ll cum when I say so,” Y/N slumped forward as he got off his knees - the ache between her thighs still there.

Duncan carefully took the toy out of Jim and began walking out of his office without another word.

“Come on,” he called from the hallway. Jim and Y/N both felt like they could barely walk.

They followed him into the room where he now laid on their bed, his clothes discarded. His own veiny cock sprung proudly against the happy trail on his lower stomach. Y/N loved feeling it against her base skin when the fucked chest to chest.

“Come ride my cock, baby,” Jim nodded eager to please.

He climbed over Duncan, positioning himself above. He grabbed the base of the Duncan’s cock and sank down on it. Y/N had prepared his tight little ass for Duncan.

Jim could feel the indentations of Duncan’s nails sinking into his skin begin to form. He started grinding his hips, forward and back, wiggling. His cock was leaking down his shaft and on to the base of Duncan’s balls.

“You’re so fucking tight.” Duncan touched Jim’s length, he fisted the boys cock and began lazily pumping him.

“Princess, I”m not done tasting my sweet pussy. Come here.” he slapped his own face slightly with his free hand.

Y/N spread her thighs around his face, dropping her dripping cunt on his mouth. His tongue darted inside and began fucking her. His tongue spiraled around her clitoris.

The room was filled with sloppy, wet, sounds of flesh slapping together.

Y/N pulled Jim to her and kissed him. A slow sensual kiss that Duncan wish he could have seen. It was the brushing of her tongue on his mixed with tightening grip Duncan had on his cock that finally had Jim cum. He spurted his stickiness on to his and Duncan’s tummy.

Duncan moaned feeling the hot cream land on him. Before long, he felt himself coming undone for the second time that night.

His tongue movements slowed down as he orgasmed. The slow kitten licks on her clit made her calves tense. She was so close.

“Daddy, please. I wanna cum too. I’ve been good, please, please please,” she pleaded in soft panting.

He nodded beneath her and worked her clit until she collapsed. Jim helped by helping her balance as she rode Duncan’s tongue. His hands caressed down her body, paying extra attention to her full breasts.

Duncan tasted her cum on his tongue as she finished for him.

Sweaty, hot, and messy, they laid on the bed, too warn out to move.

Y/N and Jim rested their heads on their daddy’s tummy, eye drifting off.

“We’re sorry, daddy,” Y/N mumbled almost fast asleep.

"We’re all yours” Jim reassured him.

Duncan smiled down at them even though they couldn’t see his face. He stroked their head lightly, “I know, my loves. I’m all yours too,”

****

Thank y’all for reading. This took me longer than expected because I really wanted to deliver for drunk anon and give her some dom!duncan instead of my go-to soft!daddy!duncan (getting out of my comfort zone a little bit tysm)

Again, thank you for those I asked on for opinions/suggestions. I love reading some dom/harsh stuff, but when it comes to writing - i always go super soft so yeee i appreciate :)

Tags: @1-800-bitchcraft @divinelangdon @dvncans @langdonsdemon @plsfuckmelangdon @langdonsoceaneyes @mega-combusken @avesatanormalpeoplescareme @lathraios @ticklish-leafy-plant @wvntersldr @wroteclassicaly @michael-langdon-appreciation @ritualmichael @langdonswhoreprobably @viridarium-girl @coollangdon @bbyduncan @venusxxlangdon @langdonsfeed @rocketgirl2410 @cocosfern @ccodyfern @lovelylangdons @sammythankyou @maso-xchrist @langdvnshepherd @americanhorrorstudies @icylangdon @emmyrosee @ladynuwanda @flowersiren @starwlkers @littledemondani @queencocoakimmie @fckinsupreme @langdonscherry

I will be rebuilding my taglist soon (?) so please lmk if you’d like to be added or removed.

#duncan shepherd #jim mason #duncan x sugar babies #duncan shepherd x reader #jim mason x reader #jim mason x duncan shepherd #duncan shepherd smut #jim mason smut #smut is not my strongest area #hoc #ttopv #the tribes of palos verdes #house of cards #cody fern #ahs #YEEE I HOPE YALL LIKE

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365daysofsasuhina · 5 years

Text

[ 365 Days of SasuHina || Day Eighty-Eight: Rebellion ] [ Uchiha Sasuke, Uchiha Itachi, Hyūga Hinata, Hyūga Neji, Uchiha Fugaku ] [ SasuHina ] [ Verse: Catch ‘Em All ] [ AO3 Link ]

Standing at the eastern entrance to Fuschia, a now twelve-year-old Sasuke keeps vigilant watch, a hand at his brow as he squints against the morning sun. She should be here any time, now…!

“Any sign of her yet?”

Jumping in surprise, Sasuke spins around to find Itachi walking up behind him. “Aniki? I thought you were training with otōsan this morning?”

“He had something come up.”

“Eh?”

“The professor’s here. I thought it rude to listen in, so I thought I’d come check on you.”

In spite of his next words, Sasuke pouts. “I’m not a kid, aniki - I’ve been a registered trainer for two years, now!”

“And you’re still my little brother.” Itachi gives a small, sly smile. “Why is it you clamor for my attention any other time, but when I give it, you’re suddenly opposed?”

“I like it when we get to train, or catch pokémon! You’re just trying to babysit me!” Arms fold, giving his elder brother a look. “Why don’t you go hang out in the Safari Zone, huh? You sure spend an awful lot of free time in there…”

Itachi’s expression cools, and a hint of color tinges the bridge of his nose. “...it’s good research. There’s a lot of rare pokémon in there.”

“That’s not all that’s in there, is it…?”

“If you’re so keen to be rid of me, then perhaps I’ll go do just that.”

“Fine!”

Snorting, Itachi manages to ruffle Sasuke’s hair before turning to leave, chuckling at his brother’s squawk of indignation. “I’ll see you later.”

Muttering under his breath and trying to smooth his hair (and...really only making it worse), Sasuke harrumphs and turns back around, watching the road.

It’s been over six years since he met Hinata in Cerulean when his father took him and his brother up with him on business. Since then, they’ve used his Pidgey (now a Pidgeotto) to send mail back and forth as often as possible to stay in touch.

As far as Sasuke is concerned, she’s pretty much his best friend.

And now, she’s finally getting to visit in person!

Her elder cousin Neji is on his pokémon journey, and is heading to Fuchsia to challenge Sasuke’s father Fugaku for the Soul Badge. And he promised to be her guide (and protector) on the routes down to Fuschia.

Normally someone twelve years old could probably handle the journey alone...but Hinata’s father, Hiashi, still refuses to let her have a pokémon of her own.

Sasuke, however...has planned a little rebellion.

He knows well from his own explorations that, with a good enough rod, one can catch a Goldeen to the west on Route Eighteen. And with a late mother who once ran the water-type gym of Cerulean, what better pokémon could be better for Hinata’s first?

Hiashi might get angry, but darn it, Sasuke can’t stand knowing she’s missing out on having bonds with pokémon! He loves his own team to pieces - he wants Hinata to get that same chance.

Lost in his thinking, he jolts as movement catches his eye. Down the road, two figures finally come into view.

Is it them?

“Sasuke-kuuun!”

Brightening, Sasuke grins. “Hinata-chaaan!” Breaking into a run, he crosses the distance as Hinata does the same, meeting in the middle as they both skid to a stop.

For a moment, they linger in an awkward hesitation. Should they...shake hands? High five? Or…?

Making up their minds for the both of them, Hinata takes a leap (literally and figuratively) and latches onto Sasuke in a tight hug. “I’ve m-missed you…!”

Stumbling back half a step, Sasuke balks, flushing pink before carefully bringing up arms to return the hold. “I...I’ve missed you too.”

“Oh! That reminds me!” Letting go, she slings her backpack off her back, rummaging under the flap before drawing something out.

Sasuke’s eyes go wide.

“I brought them back! I thought it’s h-high time they got to go home. They’ve kept me company for a long time…”

Softening with a small smile, Sasuke accepts the Bulbasaur plush. “...they look just the same as when I gave them to you…”

“I’ve been very c-careful with them! I didn’t want them to get dirty, o-or torn.”

After a moment, Sasuke glances aside, looking a little sheepish. “I, er...I guess I’m a little old for pokédolls, but...I’ll take them home later. Could you…?”

Hinata just giggles, agreeing and - for now - putting the doll back in her pack..

Seeing Neji still a ways behind, Sasuke then leans in conspiratorially. “Besides...I’m gonna get you something better than a plush to take home with you…!”

Blinking large eyes, it takes Hinata a second...and then they go wide. “B-but -?!”

“Shh!” Standing back upright, Sasuke looks to her cousin. “You’re Neji, right? Uchiha Sasuke.”

“Hinata-sama has told me all about you,” is Neji’s stiff reply.

“Yeah? Same.”

The boys seem to size each other up before Hinata tugs on Neji’s arm. “N-ne, we better get to the gym. Didn’t you want to talk to the leader before it got too late in the day…?”

Still looking haughty, Neji nonetheless softens when he glances to his cousin. “...yes, that’s true.”

“I’ll take you,” Sasuke offers, brushing aside the cool introduction. Neji’s not who he wants to see, anyway.

“Thank you.”

The trio make their way across town to the gym, where Fugaku is just finishing up talks with the pokémon professor. Glancing to them, Fugaku gives a rugged grin. “I’ll send you an email later, professor. Have a safe flight home.”

“I will!”

Once the floor is cleared, Fugaku folds his arms. “So...here for the challenge?”

Neji steps forward. “...yes sir. And, if you’re willing, some training.”

A curious brow perks. “Hm...well, we’ll see how you fare. But first...you’ll have to find your way to me. And, past my trainers!”

As one, the half dozen prequel trainers emerge, and arrange themselves.

Neji frowns. “Find my way…?”

“There’s unseeable walls,” Sasuke boasts, grinning. “And to get to the leader, you’ll have to navigate them, and the trainers. It won’t be easy…!”

There’s a cool glance over, then a determined look as Neji faces his goal. “...very well.”

“Neji-nīsan...would it be all right if - if I go with Sasuke-kun now?”

“You don’t want to watch my battle…?”

Hinata hesitates. “I...I do…”

“We’ll be back in a few,” Sasuke promises. “Besides, you’ve got other trainers to face first, remember? Do that first - I’m sure we’ll have plenty of time to spare...if you even make it that far.”

“...all right then. But you must keep Hinata-sama safe.”

“Of course.”

Permission given, the two watch as Neji takes tentative steps forward before heading back out the door.

“Did you mean what I think you meant earlier?” Hinata quickly demands, looking to Sasuke eagerly.

“I’m gonna catch you a pokémon.”

“...but...my father -”

“Doesn’t have to know! Hinata...a pokémon is a friend - one that grows with you! It’s not fair that your father is keeping that from you.” Sasuke gives her a stern look. “It’ll be a water type - you can go out north of town sometimes and let them swim around! He doesn’t have to know - not until you’re old enough to put your foot down and do what you wanna do! You’re old enough to be a trainer if you want. He can’t stop you!”

“Yes he can!”

“Then you can just run away! Back here, and stay with us,” Sasuke sniffs, clearly thinking it’s a foolproof plan. “My brother knows someone in the Safari Zone - she can teach you! Maybe even give you some work in the park! And you could stay at my house, or we could go on our own adventure! Aniki’s gonna be the next gym leader, so I can do whatever I want, too!”

Hinata looks a bit awed. “I...guess, maybe…”

“Well, first: let’s go get you a pokémon! I know just what one to get!” Taking her hand, Sasuke tugs Hinata out toward the west end of town, and out into Route Eighteen. “There’s a pond out here where you can find ‘em!”

They slow to a stop at the water’s edge, and Sasuke takes his rod out of his bag, snapping the pole together and baiting the line. “Okay...I’ll have to battle them to weaken them first. You stay over there!”

“O-okay!”

Once he’s sure Hinata’s out of harm’s way, Sasuke casts his line...and waits.

Fishing, of course, is a game of patience. There’s a few nibbles first, and then he pulls up a Krabby...not what he’s looking for. And then, finally, he hooks the right one!

“Whoa!”

Up with a splash comes a Goldeen!

Eyes round, Hinata watches as Sasuke calls on his Pidgeotto, battling with Wing and Quick Attacks.

“All right! Pokéball, go!”

With a toss, Sasuke lands the throw dead center, and the Goldeen vanishes. The ball wiggles...wriggles...and then, goes still!

“Yeahhh, I got it!”

Jogging up as Sasuke retrieves the ball, Hinata balks as he hands it to her. “Go on, throw it!”

“Um…” Looking unsure, Hinata eventually gives it a try. Out pops Goldeen into the water, looking up to their new trainer.

“...wow…!”

“Wanna name ‘em?”

“I...I don’t know! I’m not really, um...prepared…”

“That’s okay, you can do it later.” Sasuke shows her how to retrieve them, and then offers, “Just keep the ball in your bag - don’t show it to anybody!”

“I won’t!”

Together they jog back to the gym, just in time to see Neji approach the leader. His pokémon look a bit worse for wear.

“You can do it!” Hinata calls, drawing his gaze and earning a tired smile.

Fugaku releases his own team, and though it’s close...in the end, Neji can’t quite muster it. His last party member faints, and he falls to his knees.

“...I…”

Recalling his own, Fugaku eyes the boy critically. “...you know...you show great promise, my boy. Your strategizing is top-notch, especially for one your age. I think…” He glances up to his son and Hinata. “...it would be good for the two of you to spend a little time in Fuchsia. Hinata can enjoy herself a bit longer, and you and I can do a little training.”

That lifts Neji’s head, eyes wide. “...really?”

“Think you’ll make it worth my while?”

“Y...yes, sir!”

“Then we’ve got ourselves a deal.”

The two Hyūga join the Uchiha family for dinner, agreeing to stay a few more days than planned as Hinata sends her father a message.

Seated beside his brother, Itachi leans in. “So...how did it go?”

“Good. I got just what I wanted.”

“I’m glad. You’ll have to help her get started training tomorrow while Neji is busy.”

“What about you?”

“Oh, I might stop and help...depends on how busy the Safari Zone is,” Itachi replies, smirking as Sasuke pouts.

“Tch…whatever.”

Gosh this ended up longer (and later) than I intended! So this is a sequel that goes back alllll the way to day eighteen, where Hinata and Sasuke met in Cerulean City! I've wanted to do a follow-up to it for a long time, and this prompt seemed to fit well! Goodness only knows how Hiashi's going to react to all of this, but...well, Sasuke seems to think he's got it all figured out. Should be fine, right? ...riiiiight. Anyway, it's super late, I need to get to bed! Thanks for reading!

#sasuhina #uchiha sasuke #uchiha itachi #hyūga hinata #hyūga neji #uchiha fugaku #catch 'em all [ au ]#365daysofsasuhina

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moonbeambucky · 6 years

Text

The Price of Gold (Part 2)

Pairing: Lance Tucker x Reader Word Count: 2102 Warnings: fluff, flashbacks

Summary: As a sports journalist you’ve traveled the world interviewing famous athletes. You’ve loved your job up until you find out your next article is on the last person in the world you ever wanted to talk to, Lance Tucker.

A/N: This doesn’t follow The Bronze canon though some film details are mixed with real world events. Written for @green-eyeddragonfanfiction Dragon’s 3k Follower Creative Content Challenge. My prompt was “I can’t be in love with you!” gif source (x)

PART 1 | THE PRICE OF GOLD MASTERLIST

Adjusting the headphones in his ear Lance pulls his phone out from his pocket, standing in the center of a construction zone of his newly acquired warehouse, the building he refinanced his own house for and is now in great debt in the hopes of developing into a gymnastics center. Everything is on the line.

Debt is not something Lance ever worried about. By seventeen he won a silver medal for the US Men’s Gymnastics Team at the 2004 Rome Olympics and dove into fame head first where a plethora of endorsements were opened to him. It’s what he needed, seeking out fame like it was oxygen; he depended on it. Hearing praise and adoration from anyone filled a part of himself that was missing, no, the part he lost just before reaching his dream. The stadium was filled with faceless people, all blurs of a crowd that cheered him on– all but one.

That silver medal was worthless. It didn’t stop the pain, it didn’t fill the void. It wasn’t good enough, he wasn’t good enough. He set his sights on the next Olympics, pushing himself harder than before. His drive and dedication was unparalleled, sculpting his body to be even stronger, a perfect specimen, a God.

Winning the gold would prove that he was the best, that all of the sacrifices he made, everything he lost would be worth it. Four years later in Beijing he stood on the highest platform, proudly displaying what he worked so hard to earn. The gold medal weighed heavily around his neck and Lance would later learn that the price of gold was high.

Seeing the notification of a new email Lance opened the app, smirking when he saw the name of the sender. He held his breath as he read over the message, shaking his head as he could practically hear the sarcastic bubbly overtone in your words and he hated it. You were always kind and friendly but this was a show, this wasn’t you.

“Come on Lance,” his mother projected her voice towards his bedroom. “We have to introduce ourselves to the new neighbors,” she said, placing her homemade snickerdoodle cookies in a tin.

Emerging from his room Lance looked like a typical kid in the 90’s, his white t-shirt had a quintessential neon geometric design across the front, his light denim jeans had elastic cuffs at the ankle where they were met by the tops of his chunky white Reebok sneakers. Lance trudged towards the kitchen, huffing as he sat down at the table. He didn’t see why he should go meet the neighbors, that kind of stuff was for adults but his mother grabbed his hand anyway, walking them across the street to the single story ranch home to welcome the family that moved in to the neighborhood.

Running his hands through his mop of fluffy brown hair Lance waited impatiently, rolling his eyes around as his mother pressed the doorbell. Movement caught his eyes and he looked at the front window. In between the vertical blinds was the head of a girl roughly his age staring back at him. She smiled and disappeared. Just then the front door opened and the young girl was standing behind the legs of a taller woman.

“Hello, may I help you?” the woman asked, smiling to both Lance and his mother though he kept his gaze on the figure behind her. He smiled seeing that the red bow she wore in her hair matched her t-shirt, chuckling as he noticed the brown bear decal on her denim overalls.

“My name is Dorothy Tucker and this is my son Lance. We live right across from you,” she pointed towards the tan house they walked over from, “And we wanted to welcome you to the neighborhood.” Dorothy smiled warmly as she handed over the tin filled with cookies.

Your mother introduced you both, inviting Dorothy and Lance inside your home. She offered them drinks, Lance taking her up on a request for lemonade and she prepared a small cup for you as well.

Finishing your drink quickly you set the cup on the table, making an audible sound to convey that your thirst had been quenched much to the disdain of your mother, though Lance chuckled. You shared a smile with him, giggling as a playful grin spread across your face.

As your mother and Dorothy got to know each other you and Lance went to play in your room, where it seemed like all of your toys were unpacked at once and scattered all over the place. Plush toys lined your bed, beside it was a toy box filled with balls, dolls and Barbie’s thrown about. There was a bright green bin filled with dress-up clothes and glittery plastic shoes and under your bed was where you stored classic board games, including your favorite Candy Land which you insisted part of the rules meant you had to eat candy while playing.

“Wanna play Lego’s?” you asked Lance who nodded in return.

You both sat down on a colorful play rug in the center of your room. Lance watched as you rummaged through the toy box to pull out a container of Lego’s, laughing as you dumped them out in front of him. He glanced at you every time he went to grab more Lego’s, watching how focused you were on building a large house.

Lance had a couple of friends from school, boys mostly. Girls were, well, if he took his father’s advice girls shouldn’t play with boys. Mitch Tucker thought boys should stick together, getting dirty and roughhousing. Girls should keep their Barbie’s to themselves while boys, his son in particular, plays with Transformers and G.I. Joe’s.

Mitch was a “man’s man” as he often claimed, believing that women should stay home and keep house while the man provides for the family. He would frequently give his son bits of his own skewed advice, telling him to stay away from girls. He would absolutely encourage Lance to be a lady-killer later in life, but for now his skinny son needed to toughen up.

Mitch saw Lance as soft and sensitive and did everything in his power to try to stop him from his favorite hobby, gymnastics. He thought it was for sissies and blamed Dorothy for letting Lance spend too much time around girls doing cartwheels.

“Cool!” You admired the large boat Lance was making.

“Thanks,” he smiled. “So… you live here now?”

“Yeah, mommy said we have to live by my Grammy so we bought a new house,” you replied, repeating the information your parents had told you. “Will you be my friend? I don’t have any friends yet.”

You asked him plainly as you focused on making a car to go along with the house you’d built, though Lance heard the tinge of sadness laced in your tone. It couldn’t be easy to be the new kid in town.

“Yeah I’ll be your friend, Y/N,” he replied, handing you a pair of wheels he knew you would need, somehow even then he was already willing to give you anything you needed.

You had eventually made friends especially once the school year rolled around but Lance would remain your best friend. He was a year older than you but that didn’t stop your routine. His mother would pick you both up after school, providing snacks as you completed your homework at the kitchen table. You both raced to finish so you could have time to play before your own parents came home. Sometimes you stayed over for dinner but you always preferred when Lance came to your house. His dad made you nervous, always raising his voice over little things.

Soon after your mother had to make different arrangements for you after school, signing you up for activities when you could no longer be picked up with Lance. Dorothy had signed him up for gymnastics at a professional school so you were only able to see him at recess and on the weekends when he wasn’t training.

You looked forward to summer vacation because although Lance was still training you had much more time together than when school was in session. You spent every day together, with Lance attempting to teach you some gymnastics, laughing as your backwards roll was always lopsided, or sitting cross legged on the living room floor, playing with the Nintendo your Aunt bought you for the days that tropical storms roared outside.

One day you were swimming together in your pool as your mother kept her eyes on you.

“I’m gonna go to the Olympics!” Lance said as he pushed himself off the wall of the pool and swam before reaching the deep end.

“What’s an oh limp pick?” you questioned, laughing as you dunked your head back to wet your hair, his response slightly muffled as your ears went below the surface of the water.

“Oh yeah well when I grow up I’m gonna be a mermaid!”

“You can’t be a mermaid. They’re not real!”

“Uh huh they are real. I saw them. MOOOOOOM!” you shouted for her, “Tell Lance about the mermaids, we saw them!”

Chuckling under her breath at your response she told Lance she had in fact taken you to see mermaids but she didn’t clarify if they were real or not. You both came out of the water, wrapping towels around you as she brought out a plate of fruit for you to share. A smile graced her face as she watched you together knowing your friendship was special.

A few years had gone by and Lance had begun competing every few months. Though his father hated the sport (not that he ever considered gymnastics as a sport) he was at least able to tell his son the importance of winning despite his coach saying otherwise.

After a long car ride back to Spring Hill Dorothy gently woke Lance who stirred in the back seat of their station wagon. When he saw their driveway he ran out of the car and across the street to your house. Lance was buzzing with excitement as he waited for someone to answer the door. Your dad greeted him, allowing him in before waving to his parents across the street. Lance dashed across the living room, quickly shouting hello to your mother who could only laugh as he ran towards your room.

“Y/N!” he beamed.

Your head shot up from the book you were reading, looking at Lance and his proud smile. He held out a ribbon of red, white and blue with a gold medal dangling below.

“I won the gold!”

You screamed with excitement, jumping up and down with him. “That’s amazing! I wish I could have seen you,” you pouted. You had asked your parents to go to Lance’s competition but they had plans that day.

“Here,” he said, reaching his arm out towards you, “I want you to have it.”

“Really?” you said, your mouth dropping open in surprise.

Lance nodded back and you wrapped your arms around him for a hug. You grabbed your favorite teddy bear, draping the medal around it and placing it proudly on your bed. Lance’s heart began to swell, knowing how much you’ve supported him over the last few years. Even though you couldn’t be there for his win he knew instantly how much he wanted you to have his first medal.

Lance remembered that smile of yours, the way you lit up with pride and joy for his first win. He loved that smile, how it would light up even the darkest rooms and bring him happiness. He swallows harshly, remembering the day that smile faded. He hadn’t thought about it in a while, he didn’t ever want to remember. Memories came flooding back when he returned to Spring Hill, sweet and bitter. He didn’t want to come back here but he had to, and now after everything he’s been through he’s come too far to fail.

He exhales deeply, resigning to the fact that he needs you, or that he needs the coverage you can provide. He doesn’t need you, just like you didn’t need him. Your email was all business, not a single acknowledgement of your history, just the task at hand. So he buries the past away, covering up all of his emotions, bottling the guilt that kept bubbling up at the sight of your name. This was just business he reminded himself as he replied to your email in an equally blunt manner to make arrangements for you to meet.

PART 3

#dragon’s3k3c #lance tucker x reader #lance tucker fanfiction #lance tucker x you #lance tucker fanfic #the bronze fanfiction #lance x reader #lance x you

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wherethewildjinsare · 6 years

Text

Raising Spirits

A BTS ghost AU one-shot. I wanted to have this done in time for Halloween, but life happened instead. So here it is now, nice and late! Enjoy! Word Count: 6,554

“Look, look, that one looks malleable!”

“Holy shit.”

“Don’t take the name of shit in vain, Yoongi,” Taehyung says.

“Shut up, don’t say the living look ‘malleable,’ it’s creepy enough what we’re doing right now.”

The seven boys walk down the early evening streets of Seoul, the night lights shining through and around them, making them, somehow, harder to see. If anyone could see them, that is.

“So don’t do it, just go home,” Tae rebutts.

“My need for alcohol outstrips my desire to not possess a human being. There are worse things.”

“You mean like being dead?” Jin pipes in from the front, where he has charged forward. It had been long enough and he figures he should be used to it by now, as they all should.

“Let’s just do it, the party starts in two hours and we haven’t even started pre-gaming y--” Taehyung is interrupted by Jungkook and Hobi, both of whom have rushed forward with a deafening battle cry. The other boys follow, Namjoon and Jimin the only two walking while the rest sprint to join the other two.

They all stop abruptly, surrounding you as you walk apprehensively, clutching your bag tightly, made uneasy by the late hour as you makes your way home. They circle you, inspecting as you walk..

“I don’t know, she might not actually be possessable, now that I see her up close,” Jin says, getting close to your face and walking backwards.

“Doesn’t hurt to try,” Tae quips. “As far as I know, anyway.”

“We could just not do this,” Namjoon says.

“Yeah, it’s not right to violate another human being like that,” Jimin agrees. “I don’t think we sh--”

Taehyung smiles before Jimin can finish, a sure sign of what’s to come. He reaches forward, about to put his hand on -- or through -- you when you shriek, causing all of them to jump back.

“Don’t touch me!”

“Holy…” Tae yelps. His face is aghast, possibly more horrified than your own face as you shiver in their midst.

“Don’t...d-don’t touch me,” you repeat, less confident now but your brows quivering with resolution.

“Alright, don’t worry, we won’t,” Namjoon says softly, approaching you now with his hands up. Jimin smiles gently behind him, the other boys stepping back to make room for the two peacemakers. He stops within a few feet as you begin to backup.

“You can see us?” he asks.

You nod.

“Why’d you pretend you couldn’t see us then,” Tae says, accusingly. “It’s kinda rude not to respond when people call to you.”

“Yeah, we just want to possess you, that’s not rude at all,” Yoongi mutters to himself. Tae definitely hears but ignores him.

“But really, how can you see us?” Jin brings it back to focus.

“I can...see ghosts,” you say, still hiding behind your bag. “I ignored you because I don’t like to acknowledge the dead. Dead people are needy and I’m one person. It’s dangerous for the living, even when they can’t see ghosts. If you know I can see and hear you, you just take advantage.”

“Well that’s not very fair, you don’t even know us!” J-Hope may be offended. It’s hard to tell.

You're still shivering, partly because of the chill and partly because, well,you’re surrounded by seven ghosts. Not an especially comforting event when you’re trying to get home from work.

“Leave me alone,” you say, louder and stronger. “Now.”

“But don’t you see?” Tae’s smile erupts on his face. “This is perfect! We don’t have to possess anyone, she can just help us. That’ll satisfy even you Namjoon.”

“It’s true, it’s a win-win,” Yoongi nods, eyeing the flickering lights of a noodle shop nearby.

“N-no, you’re wrong,” you interrupt. “It’s a l-lose for me, I want to go home by myself and watch TV and go to sleep in peace.”

“That’s hardly living,” J-Hope laughs. “Believe me, we would know.”

“Leave me alone.” You start to walk away.

“Look, you help us and we’ll be out of your hair in 15 minutes,” Yoongi reasons. “Plus, if you don’t help us, we’ll just possess someone. You’re just gonna let us walk around doing that?”

You stop, hug your bag tighter as you think. And you sigh.

“Alright,” you groan. “Come on, I...I know a good place.”

You walk to the left, and the boys practically skip after you. Tae is almost floating. In fact, for a few seconds, he does float.

“Good place?” he quizzes. “Like really good alcohol?”

You hesitate and nod, but you don’t pause or slow your pace.

“Oooh yess,” he rubs his hands together.

The boys jump around you as you trudge through the narrow roadways. You turn left, right, right, straight for aways, then left and, finally, you stop right in front of a low-set, one-story building between a liquor store and a deli.

A wooden wind chime clanks against the yellow bricks of the wall, and you open the peeling black painted door, which jingles lightly. You close the door behind you, right in Jin’s face.

“Rude,” he says.

Yoongi rolls his eyes at him and goes through the door, the others following suit. On the other side, their ghostly senses are struck with the smell of something burning.

“Ugh, that smells awful,” Jungkook covers his nose.

“Incense,” Namjoon mutters. He looks around, takes in the red walls, the emblems and charms on the walls, the black curtains over the window which is just barely cracked open. THe incense is overpowering.

“What’s the matter?” you ask. “The alcohol is right through here.” You gesture toward a long black curtain covering a doorway on the far end of the room.

“It’s the incense,” Tae coughs.

“It smells good to me,” you shrug.

The curtain flutters and shifts. A footstep sounds.

“Guys, run,” Namjoon says, his voice deep and trembling. “Now!”

The curtain flies back as the boys respond to their leader. A young woman in satin white with large, ornate hair flies into the room, the sound of the bells on her belt accompanying her entrance.

“Holy shit, a shaman!” Tae screams, running at the door. But instead of going through it, he hits it with a resounding bang and falls back.

“What the hell!” J-Hope shrieks. He claws at the door, Jungkook and a recovered Tae joining him. Jimin grabs Tae by the shoulder and points to a card on the wall decorated in foreign symbols painted in red ink.

“No use,” he says, shaking his head.

“The window, c’mon,” Namjoon yells, and the boys follow him, becoming wisps and flying through the cracked open window.

The shaman starts.

“Dammit, are they gone?” I can feel it, they’re gone, right? The whole lot of em?”

You nod, relaxing your shoulders and letting your bag down gently to the floor at your feet.

“It’s okay Jacinda, thanks for scaring them off.”

“Damn, seven at once would have made me famous, man.” Jacinda flings her arms backwards, whooshing her long oversized sleeves out of the way, and plops down on a floor pillow at the low table in the middle of the room.

“Want some tea, y/n?” It’s really more of a statement than a question. You nod, again, and ease yourself to the pillow across from Jacinda, letting out a weak sigh as the weight of the day sinks into the plush of the cushion.

“You’ve got to learn to be more forceful with loser ghosts,” Jacinda lectures. “I thought you were ignoring them?”

“I was,” you say. “But it’s...hard sometimes.”

“Then you gotta get more assertive.”

“They were going to possess me, or someone else if not me.”

Jacinda blinks.

“Seriously?” She stands forcefully, all thoughts of tea forgotten. “You should have told me earlier, son of a bitch.”

“Can we just…”

“No!” Jacinda wheels on you. “Now they’re free to go off and possess someone else! Some ignorant sap who doesn’t know what’s about to happen to them. I’ve gotta get those punks under control, exorcise them or whatever. Come, or don’t.” She grabs a paper fan from the shelf on the wall and runs out the door, her bells the last thing you hear before the door slams shut.

You groan. All you wanted to do was go home and relax in bed. Afterall, tomorrow you’d be on edge once the sun goes down, either waiting for the next trick-or-treater from the building to knock on your door or for some drunken ghosts to bother you. Or worse, a non-drunk ghost who just wants to cause you trouble. Most night of the year it’s bearable, but on Halloween the dead get especially lively, sometimes coming to your room at night. Last year, the man without a face…

You shake your head, getting the image out of your head. You stand, grab your back, and leave.

There is no sign of Jacinda outside, neither by sight nor sound (no bells tinkling or battle cry shrieks). Might as well go home, you think, pretending you’re not tickled pink by this idea.

But just as you’re about to take a step, something stops you.

“That was a dirty trick,” a voice from somewhere above sounds. You look up and groan for the hundredth time that night upon sighting the seven heads peeping down at you from the building’s roof.

“Just leave me alone,” you say, remembering Jacinda’s words. “And don’t possess anyone, don’t even try or...or I’ll...or else.”

“We have a deal,” Suga states.

“We do? Really? You’ll leave me alone?” You can’t believe that worked.

“Yeah...wait, no, we made a deal earlier, you said you would help us and we said, after that, we’d leave you alone.”

“Yeah, do you not like us or something?” Jin speaks now. “I mean, I know at least one of us is gorgeous, the others aren’t bad to look at, so what’s the problem.”

“The problem is, I want to go home, and you’re dead.”

Silence comes from the roof, and you have the sneaking suspicion you hit a nerve.

“Wow, no need to get so personal, we know we’re dead,” J-Hope says.

“Truth is,” Namjoon says, floating down from the roof to meet you on the ground, “sometimes it’s, pardon the phrase, hard to live with the fact that we’re dead. You can see the world of warmth you used to be a part of but you’re separate from it. Parties like the one tonight, they help us forget. It’s less about the liquor and more about, I don’t know, trying to feel alive again, warm, purposeful, not hopeless. Like we are dead for something, not just eternal separation. And please don’t feel bad or anything, it’s just the way it is. It’s not your fault. We’re sorry, we’ll leave you alone if you really want, we just thought you really could help us find what we’re looking for.”

The other six boys float down to join Namjoon on the sidewalk. Tae and Jungkook do their best impression of a wounded puppy while Jimin looks on apologetically and J-Hope smiles hopefully.

Your gaze softens.

“Fine, let’s go, for real this time.”

“Yes!” Tae’s sad looks immediately go away as he bounces around you, and J-Hope goes to hug you before remembering he can’t, so instead he joins Tae in jumping around.

“Let’s go, before I lose my entire evening,” you mutter.

You’re about to set off when Jimin halts everyone.

“Wait,” he whispers, sending shivers up and down your spine. He points to the alley a few yards away, between the building housing the shaman’s office and the one next to it. THis alley is not is not like the others. This alley emanates thick, still darkness. Like the alley has simply never been there, or anything else. Just a black space where an alley should have been.

“What is…” you breathe. But then you see him, there in the darker than dark. The man without a face. Your throat seizes and you clutch your bag as you back up slowly, passing right through Jin’s chest until you’re on the other side of him.

“Woah, what…” he begins. He looks where you’re staring. “Oh this guy. What a killjoy.”

“Some people can’t take a hint,” Yoongi says to the group. He turns and walks past you and down the street, not looking back at the shadow man. You turn and flow Yoongi with short, quick steps straight away, the others following soon after.

“He’ll come after us, won’t he?” You bite your lip, looking at Yoongi nervously.

“He’s been following us for a while,” he says. “Since last year, I think.”

“What does he want,” you ask, thinking of your encounter last year. All night, in the darkest shadows of the far corner of the bedroom by the door.

He shrugs. “We just don’t go in the shadows. And we avoid the dark parts, even when we don’t see him, just in case.”

You stop asking questions but turn around to look. THe deep dark slowly fades as you walk away, turning to the normal shadow of an alley as you turn the corner.

“Now don’t talk to me for a bit,” you say. “We’re getting into an area with people.”

“We’re not idiots,” Tae says.

“Not always,” Jin adds.

They do, in fact, shut up when the people come into view in the more populated downtown area. It isn’t too crowded for a Halloween eve night, but soon you begin to notice people who are a bit off amongst the regular residents. They are the ones who look at you, walk a little slower against the flow in either direction.

They’re out full force tonight, you think. You try to keep you gaze on the ground as you walk, tripping over your feet and almost bumping into someone.

“Sorry,” you mutter, but as you look up at them, you catch their eye. It’s not a living person.

Shit, you think. You rip your eyes away, casting them back onto the ground but it’s too late. You hear a raspy breath as the dead draws nearer.

“You can see me. You can hear me,” she says. “Tell my son he needs to get married, please, to make me happy. I’m so worried about him. Can you please just do this one thing, please. And my daughter, please. In America. Please, the phone number.”

You walk faster, biting your lip.

“Please, I died, there was so much blood, look.”

You breathe heavily as sweat prickles at your neck and temples. You don’t want to look. You don’t want to see.

“Beat it, would you? We’re busy.”

A deep voice, Yoongi’s, breaks through the agony.

“So many party poopers out tonight,” Jin says from next to you. He has come up beside you, between you and the woman.

“But please…”

“Go bother someone else, seriously, she doesn’t want to hear it,” J-Hope offers now, on her other side. Jungkook is now in front of you, walking just ahead. The rest of the boys form up behind you, effectively blocking the woman, and any other ghosts for that matter, from getting too close.

The boys whoop and yell, making jokes and laughing. They are breaking their promise of silence but they are also keeping all the other ghosts from bothering you. Your heart feels light, a nice change, but you refuse to let the smile tempting your mouth to break free. They’re still a nuisance, being ghosts themselves. Despite that, it seems like just seconds before you reach your destination: the liquor store.

It has the best selection in the area, or that’s been your experience anyway. You open the door and walk into the large store. The wine is on one side and the spirits and beers are on the other.

“So...what exactly am I looking for?” you whisper, not willing to look crazy in front of the people milling about.

“Take out your cell phone and pretend you’re talking to someone,” Namjoon says. “You won’t have to worry about talking to us that way.”

You follow his instructions, removing the phone from your back pocket and putting it up to your ear as you wander further inside, the boys following closely.

“What do you want?”

“See, we don’t want any regular alcohol,” Tae says. “The very best, our absolute favorite…”

“Your absolute favorite,” Jimin corrects.

“Our absolute favorite, Pincer Vodka.”

“Pincer Vodka,” you say, your jaw dropping. “That’s like 88 percent alcohol!”

“Exactly,” Tae says. “When you’re alive, it gets you drunk, gives you a hangover, all that stuff, and it’s so bad for your liver...kidneys...liver?”

“Both, continue,” Yoongi offers.

“Yeah, but when you’re dead, you just get to enjoy the burn, like your breathing fire air, it’s awesome. No consequences.”

You try to forget that Pincer Vodka was the same vodka that you got horribly sick on once and never touched vodka again after that. You even threw up in a cup to keep from getting it on the floor. Someone at the party called it the classiest thing they’d ever seen. That made you feel better at the time, though you’re now not sure if it should have.

“Okay, I guess we’re looking for Pincer Vodka,” you wince.

The boys scatter in all directions. Taehyung looks over a woman’s shoulder and reads the label of the wine bottle she’s holding. Jin sticks his head through the fridge door. Yoongi and Jungkook emerge from the back room empty handed, and Jimin, J-Hope and Namjoon search the shelves themselves. You decide to do the only thing they can’t and approach the bearded man at the register.

“Excuse me,” you say quietly. He doesn’t notice you. “Excuse me,” you say louder.

He looks up from his phone.

“Oh, sorry,” he mutters, not really very sorry about anything in particular. “Can I help you?”

“Do you have, uh, the Pincer Vodka?”

“Pincer?” He repeats. “Pincer, that name. Heard that a lot tonight. Is there some crazy party going on I don’t know about? What?”

You open your mouth but nothing comes out, so you settle for a shrug.

“We don’t have it,” he finally says. “Been sold out since yesterday.”

“Oh.” Well that figures. “Do you know anywhere that might have it?”

“If everyone else is looking for it, then no one in this town is going to have Pincer Vodka. Crazy. You know that stuff is 88 percent alcohol? You’re not that big of a person, I hope you’re not planning on drinking that alone.”

“Oh, no no, it’s not…”

Taehyung breathes on your neck at that moment. You squeak.

“You alright?” the man at the register asks, looking at you suspiciously.

“Yes, sorry, thank you.”

You wheel around and skitter out of the liquor store.

“Taehyung,” you say. It was originally meant to be a yell but you couldn’t bring yourself to raise your voice that high. “Don’t sneak up on me like that.”

He has, of course, floated through the doors after you, along with Namjoon, Jimin and Jin.

“Sorry,” he says, not sorry at all. “What’d he say?”

“He says they’re out. And he says that most places here will probably be out. You’re not the only ones trying to get it, I guess.”

“Told you we should have gotten some like a week ago!” Tae yells at Jungkook, who joined them at some point. He shrugs. Yoongi and J-Hope wander out a second later.

“We might as well try a few more places,” Namjoon says. “No harm in trying. Worse comes to worse, we go without. Come on.”

Tae and J-Hope moan but follow the leader as they turn down the street.

The evening has become a blur of tired eyes and sore feet for you. Seven visits to seven liquor stores and even a corner deli have proven fruitless. The Pincer seems out of reach.

“Can’t you drink something else?” you moan finally, sinking down onto a deserted step on the stoop of an old apartment building.

“No!” Tae cries. Half the group moans. “There’s no point if it’s not Pincer.”

“Look, just because you never got to have it when you were alive…” Yoongi starts.

“You’re wrong!”

Everyone looks at him.

“I did drink it when I was alive,” he starts. The youthful optimism he’s shown all night is gone, replaced by anger. “It was the last thing I ever drank. Pincer killed me.”

“Damnit, that’s the stupidest thing I ever…” Yoongi is cut off by J-Hope.

“Oh shit, I remember now,” he says. “Damnit, Tae! We all had Pincer that night. It wasn’t just you!”

“But you weren’t the one driving the car!” He’s crying now. “It’s my fault we’re like this!”

You feel like you’re listening to something you shouldn’t be hearing and didn’t want to hear.

Namjoon approaches Tae. “You’ve felt like this all this time?”

He nods, wiping his eye with his sleeve.

“Tae, we all drank that night, we were all being irresponsible. We were distracting you when you were already trying to drive like that. And you weren’t even going to drink. You were pressured into it. It’s all of our faults, and we all share the blame, even if some of us forgot…”

“I didn’t remember at first, but I remembered with the anniversary.”

“Yeah, me too,” Jin added.

“It’s the past,” Namjoon says. “It was stupid, and it cost us, but we’re together, even if it’s like this. We take responsibility, and we hope others learn.”

“But my mom, my dad,” Tae whimpers.

“They have to move on too. Just like us.”

Suddenly, this mission makes more sense to you.

“So,” you breathe, feeling awkward about interrupting the scene. “The Pincer isn’t just about drinking Pincer, right? It’s about facing the thing that you associate with...well...you know.”

Tae nods again, and Tae pats his shoulder.

“Alright,” you say, standing and dusting off your knees. “Let’s go. There’s one more place we can try.”

“Alright!” J-Hope croons. He runs up and grabs Taehyung around the neck. Tae is soon in much better spirits, and the group follows you as you lead them to a dingy corner store about six blocks away. As you approach, you’re dismayed to see the “closed” sign in the window with “permanently” written sloppily in black sharpie underneath.

“I’m, uh, sorry guys, it looks like…”

“Closed!” Tae runs to the store’s gritty window. Jungkook does one better and passes right through the door.

“I’ll help him look,” Jin offers, rushing off after him.

“I doubt they’ll find anything in there,” you say, pressing your face against the window.. “I’m not sure how long they’ve been closed, but unless they left everything in the back rooms, there’s nothing left, looks like.”

“It’s okay,” Namjoon says. “We appreciate the effort.”

You smile, and he smiles back.

“You guys aren’t so bad, I guess,” you say quietly.

“Ha!” J-Hope yells. “You heard that, boys. We’re not so bad.”

“We already knew that,” Yoongi deadpans, though Tae seems just as thrilled as J-Hope. The two clap their arms over each other’s shoulders and swing around.

“So what now?” you ask. You feel a little sadness make its way into the pit of your stomach.

Jungkook and Jin re-emerge empty-handed.

“Well, we…”

Namjoon is cut off abruptly by a shrill battle cry as Jacinda, eyes on fire and white dress slightly dirty, hurls herself out of the adjacent alleyway at the group.

“I know they’re here!” she cries. “Just try to get away now.”

“Don’t mind if we do,” J-Hope says, propelling his body down the street, back where they’d come. But he doesn’t move. “Wait, what?”

He pulls against his feet, but they’re rooted to the spot. The other boys are equally unsuccessful in their attempts to move from where they stand.

“What gives!” Jungkook cries, wrapping his hands around his right ankle and pulling.

Jacinda holds up a regular-looking playing card. Except this one has a poorly formed circle with three lines through it drawn in red paint, possibly marker.

“I’m always prepared,” she drawls.

“Except for the last time,” you mutter. Jacinda takes off her house slipper and throws it at you. It lands harmlessly by your leg.

“Now, all I have to do is…”

“It’s okay, Jacinda, I overreacted, we’re fine,” you say. “Thank you, but it’s okay, we’re just…”

“They possessed you didn’t they?” she gasps. “No Y/N! I’ll avenge you! Get out of her body!”

Jacinda opens the fan she took from her office earlier and opens it. It looks harmless to you, but Namjoon curses under his breath.

“That’s right, this fan will blow you all to the four corners of the earth. Ghosts without roots...aka all ghosts...float far with the wind!” Jacinda is about to take a step forward when a darkness takes over the area. You didn’t notice before, but you think it must have been creeping into the area this whole time, and now it has suddenly overtaken the deserted and narrow street.

“Oh, shit, now?” J-Hope moans.

“He has the worst timing,” Namjoon says. “Leave us alone, come on.”

You realize immediately who, or what, they mean. Sure enough, the man without a face creeps out of the alley that Jacinda just attacked them from. He looms over Jacinda, who is frozen in horror as she looks up at the empty space where his face should be. Faceless lifts his arm, and the fan goes flying. Jacinda lets loose a scream and runs for her life, down the street and out of sight.

You can't move. The man with no face is here. You'd dreaded the night because of him, and now here he is once again. And you can't move. He doesn't take notice of you as he floats toward Jungkook, the closest of the boys. For the first time that evening, your companions look scared.

In that moment, your fear turns to anger. You’re tired. So tired you can’t stand it. Physically, yes, of course you’re tired, but this is different. You’re tired in your mind, tired of feeling pushed around by beings that can’t even touch you. Tired of being scared. Tired of feeling at odds with the world just because you can see more of it than other people. Tired of feeling separate. So tired and sick of it that you find yourself standing up, picking up the shoe Jacinda had thrown at you and lobbing it as hard as you can in the general direction of the man without a face with a loud “hey!” The shoe goes right through his dark space for a face.

“Leave us alone!” you cry. The man stops his advance toward Jungkook and turns in your direction. You pay no attention to the stab of fear that digs into the back of your mind.

“And don’t bother me tomorrow, you hear? I don’t need a weirdo without a face hanging out in my room, scaring me half to death and keeping me from sleep. You jerks, you’re all the same. Just because you’re having a bad time doesn’t mean you can make my life hard, I’m a person! I deserve peace and privacy. Just because I can see you doesn’t mean I want to be your friend and doesn’t mean I have to help any dead person with a sob story or any living person with a guilty conscience! And that goes for you guys too!” You turn on the boys who do their best attempt at innocent expressions. “So from now on, give me some space, let me breathe! I’m tired of being used by everyone, alive or not!”

You’re done, you think. You sit back down and breathe heavily. Wow, when was the last time you yelled like that? Your throat kind of hurts a little, but you feel good, like a huge weight has been lifted, at least momentarily.

The man without a face steps forward, bringing your attention back to the stab of fear in the back of your brain, and you stiffen along with your companions. The man reaches up, and you brace for the worst. Instead of doing...whatever it is you thought he was going to do...he pulls down a dark scarf that had been covering his face underneath the hat on his head. Under the scarf is a round face with close-set eyes. A completely harmless looking person...albeit a dead one.

“I know I’m a little awkward, but weirdo is a little harsh,” he says sadly. “And I can’t feel anything but I still have feelings, the shoe was unnecessary.”

You blink. The boys blink. “W-what?” you mumble.

“I just...want someone to hang out with,” he says. “You guys have a great group thing going on,” he adds, gesturing to the boys, who still can’t move. “I’ve never seen that in ghosts before and you seem halfway happy. So cool. I wanted to be a part of that.”

“Dude, why the shadow act,” Jungkook says from his spot.

He shrugs. “Shy, I guess.” He turns to you again. “Sorry for last Halloween, I was feeling bad and was drawn to your apartment. Just lonely, sorry.”

You shrug and walk behind him, picking up Jacinda’s shoe and putting it in your pocket.

“Oh.” He reaches under his dark coat and brings out two bottles of something clear. “I’ve been wanting to you. I got them earlier this year and I heard you were looking for it. I was hoping you’d let me hang out with you if I brought them but...here.” He holds out one of the bottles to no one in particular. Tae tries to move forward but is rooted to the spot. So you take the bottle of Pincer vodka from him instead.

“Thank you,” Tae says, clearly touched. “What’s your name?”

“Bang Si-hyuk. Sorry about the face thing, I’m just always cold.”

At that moment, you spot the charm Jacinda had flashed at them earlier on the ground. You walk over and pick it up, turning the card around between your fingers before you tear it right in two. You let the pieces fall back to the ground, and the boys all groan and stretch. J-Hope jogs in a circle.

“So good to move again!” he shouts on the third lap.

Tae is busy trying to get the bottle of vodka open.

“How are you picking that up, by the way,” you ask.

“We can hold stuff, it’s just selective, takes concentration,” Namjoon says, approaching Tae to help. He waves the leader off and goes back to his attempts. Finally, he unscrews the top and holds it up to his nostrils.

“Wow, it’s so strong I can smell it with my afterlife nostrils,” he breathes. You wrinkles your nose at the phrase “afterlife nostrils” but watch as he takes a sip.

“Ah, that’s...that’s amazing,” he says. “It’s like, wow. I can’t describe it.”

He passes it around to everyone, including Si-hyuk. To your surprise, Tae brings it to you last of all.

“Oh no, that’s okay.”

“Please? You helped us so much tonight and we really had so much fun with you. You’re one of us.” He looks at you pleadingly, and you sigh. You don’t know how tonight would qualify as fun, but you take the bottle and bring it to your mouth, letting the liquid fire coat your throat and make its way down. You cough, handing the bottle back to Tae, who’s got the widest, rectangle smile on his face.

“That’s the first vodka I’ve had in a long time,” you splutter.

“Yeah? Good, eh?” Jin laughs. “You like it, I can tell.”

“Sure, we’ll go with that.” You pull a bottle of water out of your backpack and take three large mouthfuls while the boys continue to chug the vodka like its soda.

“Y/N, you have to come with us,” Tae says.

“Where?”

“To the party!” The other boys agree, murmuring their approval. Si-hyuk agrees too before he remembers he’s not officially a part of the group.

“You too,” Jimin says, smiling at the newcomer. Yoongi rolls his eyes but doesn’t disagree.

“But I…” you start to protest. Their eager faces sway you. “Fine, just for a minute, but then I’m going home.”

“Deal!” Tae yells, practically dancing as he leads the way.

Your group pauses outside a closed mall. It’s scheduled for demolition next week, according to the large construction sign on the gate around the abandoned parking lot. The fence itself the boys completely ignore as they pass through it. Tae and Namjoon double back and focus their joint efforts on the gate. They manage to get the lock off together, though you’re not entirely sure how. You enter through the newly made opening. The door to the mall itself is already standing open, inviting you into the large, dark atrium. The lights to the Forever21 sign across the way from the entrance are the only ones on, guiding you to what you’re sure is the weirdest Halloween party you’ll ever attend. The boys run ahead with whoops and yells. Si-hyuk tries to blend in, running after them. But he gets winded halfway there and settles for walking and pumping his fist in the air. Tae and Jungkook come back and walk him to the door, their arms around his shoulder.

You’re the last to enter the Forever21. “Wow,” you say to yourself as you survey the area. The store is humming with conversation from all corners of the two-story space. Floating blue lights line the balcony separating the first floor from the second, and a few ghostly groups are floating as well, having discussions in the air. It’s just common sense, considering the floor space itself is so crowded. It’s the liveliest bunch of dead people you’ve ever seen. You spot the two empty bottles of Pincer in the trashcan near the door. Their previous owners are running around the room, followed by Si-hyuk, who keeps passing through other ghosts and apologizing for his rudeness as he struggles to keep up.

Up on the second floor you hear a bumping bass, and you realize there’s a concert going on up there. There are musicians in the afterlife? The boys are making their way up the stairs, and you figure they’ll be occupied with whatever group is playing for a good while. This is your chance to make your escape, and you take it. As you pass through the chain-link fence, you look back at the mall and feel a pang of something. Maybe you’ll miss them a little.

At long last, you climb the last stair to your apartment door and press the door-code. The lock beeps happily and you gratefully find yourself through the door and in your tiny entryway.

“Jacinda, I’m home,” you call out, sliding off your shoes and setting your bag down by the small hall table by the bathroom.

“Ugh, what a night, I’m so angry,” Jacinda moans, coming out from the back hall where the bedrooms are. “Those punks. And that guy! Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you say, walking up toward the couch and plopping yourself down. You sink into the cushions and sigh contentedly. “You could see him?”

“I just saw a bunch of darkness and a figure, but not the details,” she said. “He didn’t...follow you here did he?”

“Nope, he ended up being okay.”

“Good, cuz I definitely would have struck the fear of me in him if he had just tried to do it,” she said.

“Nice recovery. I’m sure you would.”

“Don’t mock me. I’m going in my room and I’m not coming out unless there’s a fire. I have some shows to catch up on.”

“Oh,” you say, reaching into your jacket pocket. “Here.”

“My shoe! Bless your soul, oh, I missed you.” Jacinda sweeps up the slipper in her hands and tenderly coddles it as she walks back to her bedroom, muttering encouragements to the footwear the whole way.

You hear the door shut and sigh again. She was right about one thing. It had been quite a night. You feel sad in a way that it’s over. You felt more comfortable than you remember feeling in a long time with them. They were so carefree for ghosts, not always complaining, not making you feel bad for being alive. In fact, there were times you forgot they were dead themselves. You chuckle and turn on the TV, but before you know it, you’ve drifted off in a light sleep.

“Ouch, idiot.”

“How can you feel pain, you’re a freaking ghost.”

“Doesn’t matter, I can tell that would’ve hurt, jerk.”

Yoongi? Tae? You open your eyes to a dark room, the TV still on, but the sound muted. As your eyes adjust, you see a group of people in the entryway of your home. Seven people.

“What the…” You sit upright, rubbing the drool from your chin.

“Don’t worry, it’s just us,” Jin says.

“Don’t worry, but...what are you guys doing here?”

“We missed you,” Tae said, bounding over to you on the couch and sitting down next to you.

“Missed me, I don’t...what happened to the party?” “It was, oh man, it was awesome,” Tae leans back and opens his arms wide, collapsing against the couch and letting his arms swing down onto the back of it. You wonder if he’s really sitting on the couch or is floating just above it. Can ghosts sit?

“Yeah, it was sweet, Jimin and I got our dance on for the first time in forever,” J-Hope says, demonstrating his moves on your living room carpet. Jimin laughs in embarrassment and covers his face.

“But we got tired of that place and wanted somewhere else to go and couldn’t find you, so we just kept talking about you and then decided to try and find you,” Tae continued.

“How’d you find me? And where’s Si-hyuk?”

“Oh he’s fine, he had such a good time. He found a group to hang with,” Namjoon offers. “Jeong Wook, Min-Suk, other people I can’t remember the names of. More his age, frankly. We’ll see him around, I’m sure.”

“Found you pretty easily. You give off a feel,” Yoongi says.

You know.

“If we didn’t know who you were we might not have been able to find you, but we spent enough time with you to kinda get a sense for where the source of that vibe was, if that makes sense,” Namjoon adds.

“I guess.” You lean back in the couch. “So what now, you’re just going to haunt me for the rest of my life?”

“No, of course not,” Jin says.

“That’d be pretty rude,” Jimin adds.

“We just wanted to...I don’t know...hang out every now and again?” Tae goes awkward for the first time that night. “Maybe crash here tonight or a few days or…We’d leave whenever you want, we just…”

“We missed you,” Jungkook offers, helping him finish.

“Yeah,” Tae shouts brightly. “So how ‘bout it?”

You look from face to face, and you smile. It wouldn’t be so bad for a little bit.

“Sure,” you say. “Just try not to get in my roommate’s way.”

Hey look, you got to the end! Thanks for that. Hope you enjoyed this super fluffy piece about death. Slightly experimental for me. Let me know what you thought in the comments or shoot me a message! I like hearing from you guys.

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