Skye stares at the empty box, very certain that she just opened it yesterday. “Where are the pop tarts?” she asks Matt.
Matt, who is falling asleep on the couch, motions sleepily at the half-eaten pop tart on his plate.
“That’s one. I’m sure you didn’t eat all twelve pieces, right? Because if you did, I’m wondering if I should send you for a diabetes checkup.” Skye sits down beside him and takes a bite of the strawberry pop tart, leaning her head on his shoulder.
Matt yawns and runs his hands through her hair. “Sorry love, Wade… was persistent.”
“Wade. You let Deadpool into the house!?” Skye sits up and scans the room. “Please tell me he isn’t in our bedroom right now.”
He sighs. “You try and get rid of him. He’s been hovering around waiting for the love of his life to come through the door.”
She stalks across the room and flings open the door. “WADE WILSON. YOU GET YOUR NAKED ASS OFF MY BED NOW.”
“NOW! Or else I’ll tell Jemma who the love of her life isn’t.”
“Gasp! You wouldn’t!”
“Are you sure you want to test that theory?” She taps her foot impatiently and with a whine, Deadpool puts his pants on and is out of the window.
Matt circles her waist and presses a kiss on her neck. “Have I told you that watching you do that turns me on?”
“Well, you’re gonna wait until I burn the bedsheets.” Skye runs a hand down his chest. “Then we can talk about how much what turns you on.”
A/N: Something quick I whipped up because my brain is too tired to write any series. Enjoy :D
The first time Bucky picks you, you’re
sitting at your dining room table, biology book opened as you try to draw a
diagram of a plant cell. You have a half-eaten sandwich sitting on your plate
beside the book and you take a bit, absently chewing as you frown at your
paper. The proportions are all wrong and these are just notes, they shouldn’t be
something you worry about, but here you are, erasing the cell wall for the
fifth time and trying to be accurate this time around.
Being in honors classes, you’re
pressured to do your best and graduate top of your eighth-grade class. Your
parents beam with pride when they tell their friends that you’re doing so well
in school, and you want to keep them looking that way for as long as you can.
There’s a knock to your door and
your mom calls out your name. “Bucky’s here!” she says.
The chip you were in the process of chewing goes down the wrong pipe. All sense of calm flies out the window as you lurch forward and start coughing. You desperately hope that doing so will help the half eaten chip dislodge itself. You never pictured your demise happening like this.
“Y/N!” Bucky starts hitting your back, terror as clear as day in his voice.
“Water,” you manage to say, feeling your face grow warm. He passes you one of the water bottles from the table and unscrews the top so you don’t have to. The cool liquid eases the painful tickle at the back of your throat, allowing you to finally swallow the chip.
Bucky has the decency to look apologetic when he says, “Are you okay?”
“Your girlfriend?” Saying those words makes your throat hurt and your head spin. You must’ve misheard him. That’s the only option that makes sense here. “You’re kidding, right?”
So, the gang is wandering in a mysterious haunted mansion, when they find the best clue of all...
But then Velma says…
“See those claw marks? The ape man was eating this sandwich!”
Um… well, no, I don’t actually see any claw marks, but I’ll take your word for it.
Soon, they decide it couldn’t have been the ape man’s since apes don’t eat meat… and that rule apparently applies to mysterious ape men that were previously unknown to science. So, Freddy says…
“It’s ok, Shaggy. You can eat it.”
…because if you find a half-eaten burger with weird marks on it that’s been sitting on the floor of a dusty mansion for an indeterminable amount of time, but it wasn’t the bad guy’s burger, it’s ok to eat.
Food poisoning only comes from bad guy food.
Finally, though, Freddy interjects…
“Ok, let’s split up and search for this ape man who eats hamburgers!”
…and in an instant, I knew this was the best sentence ever written by mankind.
It’s 7am and I love you. Seeing you in the morning, all half-open eyes and messy hair, makes the mornings full of promise and life. It’s midday and I love you. Half-eaten toast and lunch breaks and small talk. Rushing, laughing, stealing another moment. It’s early afternoon and I love you. Settling onto the couch as we share stories about our day; everything calms down, becomes home again.
It’s evening and I love you. The heat from the oven, the movie nights, the small touches of hands and legs wrapping together. Sharing our space. Ours. No one else’s. It’s midnight and I love you. I can’t sleep. You don’t let me. I close my eyes, and you’re here, with me, even if you’re sleeping in another bed, or another lifetime away.
Okay, so maybe Jimin was a little paranoid at times. Maybe,
he tended to interpret things too much.
Still, he was at least 101% sure he did not imagine
Jungkook glaring at him from the side for no apparent reason.
He had tried to ignore it at first. Kept his eyes fixed
on his phone instead (candy crush was more important anyway. Yes, he still
played candy crush don’t judge ok). Sometimes Jungkook just stared without
noticing, it wasn’t that unusual. Only that he wasn’t just staring but actually
glowering at him. For whatever reason, Jimin honestly didn’t know. He had done
nothing wrong. Didn’t even touch the cup of half-eaten ramen that had
Jungkook’s name scribbled all over it. He wouldn’t dare. You learn from
mistakes, okay. So, what was it?
Despite pretending to be really busy destroying
colorful bonbons on his phone screen Jimin was actually waiting for Jungkook to
speak up. There had to be something. He had been staring for solid five minutes
now, it was getting ridiculous. Was he expecting Jimin to magically know what
he had done to piss him off and apologize on his own? Like hell he would.
Jungkook could give him his death glare all he wanted, Jimin was not going to
fall on his knees and beg for forgiveness. 2013 Jimin would have, maybe. But
2016 Jimin was so over that, like, seriously. He was not living in Jungkook’s
ass, okay, shut up Kim Taehyung.
(maybe he would apologize if he knew what he did wrong)
Anyways, after waiting for another two minutes Jimin
has had it. He had promised himself to not give in but Jungkook’s eyes on him
were driving him freaking nuts and he kept accidently using boosters, damnit.
“Okay, what?”, he finally said, looking up from his
screen to look at Jungkook, “What is it? Why are you staring at me like that?”
Jungkook’s frown deepened.
“Your hands,” he simply said, like that would explain
Jimin was more than confused. His…what?
“My hands? What? What are you talking about?” Jungkook
did not make any sense. What’s with his hands? Jimin looked down at them, still
holding his phone in between. What the hell was Jeon Jungkook on about?
Instead of giving him a proper explanation Jungkook
suddenly stretched out his arm and grabbed Jimin’s wrist, long fingers wrapping
around it and lifting it up. Jimin gave him a irritated look, but Jungkook only
continued to glare.
“Your hand,” he repeated and was Jimin imagining
things or did Jungkook actually look angry
at his freaking hand?
“Yes, that’s my hand,” Jimin repeated, growing more exasperated
by the second, “What’s wrong with you? Are you drunk?” Maybe he was. He was
acting really fucking strange.
“It’s so small.”
Jimin wasn’t sure if he wanted to punch Jungkook or
laugh at him because he was probably actually drunk and talking nonsense.
“Why is it so small?
That’s not normal.”
Okay, definitely the first one.
“What the hell?”, he spluttered, trying to pull back
his hand, but Jungkook’s grip was too strong. “Screw you, my hands are just
He couldn’t believe he was letting his dongsaeng, the
maknae, the person that was two years
younger than him, the boy that
was born in Busan after him insult
his hands! What the fuck was up with that?!
“No,” Jungkook insisted, tightening his grip when
Jimin tried to withdraw his hand once more, “Look how…how tiny it is. I’ve never met a guy with hands this small. These are
Jimin gaped at him, shocked. To say he was offended
was an understatement. Jungkook just straight up called him unmanly to his
face. What had he ever done to him to deserve this kind of disrespect?
“W-what are you- I’ll show you what these ‘girls’
hands’ can do, you insolent little-“
“I just don’t understand,” Jungkook continued
completely unfazed. He tugged a little on Jimin’s wrist to pull him closer before
he actually let go off him. However, before Jimin could pull back or maybe
punch him in the stomach Jungkook’s fingers slid up his palm until his hand was
resting against Jimins’, long fingers towering over his by a few centimeters.
Suddenly, Jimin’s mouth felt really dry.
“Look how small it is,” Jungkook mumbled, gaze focused
on their hands with a thoughtful expression. Jimin wasn’t sure what kind of
drugs Jungkook had taken and he would definitely tell Seokjin about this later
so he could have The Talk with him again, but for some reason every protest and
insult that he wanted to throw at Jungkook had died on his lips. Jimin looked
at their hands and, okay, Jungkook was right. His hands were kind of small,
especially compared to Jungkook’s big ones. But he was much taller than him, it
was normal for a small person to have small hands, right? It wasn’t like Yoongi’s
hands were big. Still bigger than his, yes, but it wasn’t that much of a difference. At least Jimin was pretty sure Jungkook
would never have the nerve to walk up to Yoongi and call his hands girly if he
wasn’t completely suicidal. Jimin was definitely too nice.
“How is that even possible?”, Jungkook kept muttering to
himself, pulling Jimin out of his thoughts.
“I don’t know, they’ve always been like that, okay.
Stop mocking me,” Jimin said quietly, a little embarrassed by the obvious size difference.
He was still annoyed at Jungkook’s audacity but he couldn’t stay mad at him if
he wanted to. Not when Jungkook’s palm was pressing against his own, warm and
nice and making Jimin feel way too comfortable.
“I’m not,” Jungkook said, looking up for only a second
before his gaze went to their hands again. He hesitated, but then Jimin could
feel Jungkook’s fingers sliding down between his own until they couldn’t go any
further and their fingers were fully interlaced.
Jimin’s heart skipped a beat, heat flaring up in his
chest all the way up to his ears. How did this even happen? Wasn’t Jungkook
just insulting him like 10 seconds ago? Why were they holding hands all of
When Jimin sheepishly peered at him Jungkook looked
just as embarrassed as Jimin felt, which made him feel a little better about
“They are cute, though,” Jungkook mumbled so quickly
that Jimin almost didn’t catch it. However, the pink-ish tint on Jungkook’s
cheeks was proof enough that Jimin hadn’t just imagined things as well as the
feeling of his palm that was still pressing against his own.
Jimin knew his smile was probably splitting his face
right now and Taehyung would tease him for looking like a love-struck puppy, but
fuck it. Jungkook was probably the only person that managed to insult and
compliment him in one breath and still being so awfully cute about it that
Jimin couldn’t help but forgive him without second thought.
“You are such an idiot.” Jimin couldn’t keep the smile
out of his voice even if he had actually tried, so he didn’t. His fingers
squeezed Jungkook’s in reassurance and his heart did a weird flip when Jungkook
gave a shy smile in return. He was the worst, seriously. Jimin didn’t even like
But, if he was being completely honest, his hands did
fit in Jungkook’s rather well.
idk i’m jikook trash and it’s valentine’s day and it just happened. english is not my first language btw so i apologize for any mistakes i made