The RFA reacting to waking up with MC for thr first time? Not in a sex type of way but maybe they fell asleep on the couch or MC sat next to them till she fell asleep type of thing. Fluffy is nice :p
Fluffy is life! ^^ Hope you enjoy this!
RFA reacting to waking up with MC for the first time
woke up with the morning breeze blowing in his face, was he so tired that he
really dozed off on his rooftop?
looks down and… you??? You and him with a blanket wrapped around you two???
to scream and push you away before the beast comes out, but… you look so
peaceful in your sleep, so comfortable… you shouldn’t be so comfortable around
a man, all men are wolv… oh, shit! You’re hugging him and snuggling in his
he remembers, you two went to gym together and then he invited you over to cool
off after such an intense work out session
feels disgusted at himself for leaning against you like that, he was probably
all sweaty. Well, so were you, but your sweat smells like cinnamon to him, so
he doesn’t mind.
two went to his rooftop and talked a little drinking a beer. You seemed cold,
so he grabbed a blanket, and next thing you know… you were cuddling like this…
all his fear about losing control, he feels so glad, he would love to wake up
with you all over him like this every morning, but probably somewhere more
comfortable like his couch or… his bed…
BAD THOUGHTS, ZEN! SNAP OUT OF IT!
are you okay?” your sleepy voice and you half lidded eyes, this is too fucking
much! “You keep shaking, are you cold?”
he feels really hot, actually…
fine, MC, don’t worry.” “Okay, so go back to sleep…” you nuzzle at him again.
Oh well… you heard her, beast, go back to sleep…
feels his neck a little wry, this pillow seems different… wait! It’s not a
pillow, it’s… it’s… YOUR LAP!
so much for him to feel flustered. You’re so close, he’s sleeping on your lap
and you are IN PUBLIC!
yeah… LOLOL is about to send a new expansion, so there he is camping in front
of the store waiting to be one of the firsts to buy it.
he managed to bring you along is a thing he’ll never know… but what’s more
important right now is… the sweet smell of cherry emanating from your hair…and your legs are so comfortable…
What? No… the most important thing is… why did he drag you to this? And he should have offered his lap, or… at least, his shoulder for you to rest! You must be so uncomfortable! But you look ok… and so cute…
Are people in line looking at you? Oh no… this
is so embarrassing… they must think you are a couple…
would it be bad? People seeing you as a couple? He would never say it out loud,
but he fantasized so much about doing couple’s things with you…
together, having meals together, waking up together… at the same bed… oh no no
no! What was he thinking? This was so naughty, especially having you this
are you feeling sick? You’re so red… maybe you have a fever?” he didn’t even
notice you waking up. You put your hand on his forehead, could he get even
redder? He looks at you all tense, your eyes are a little squinched because you
didn’t wake up completely, so… cute!
you don’t feel that hot…, just rest a little more, okay? I’ll wake you up when the store opens.” He
hesitates a lot, but you’re so warm and he’s so tired… he awkwardly rests his
head again on your lap and feel your fingers resting lazily on his hair, well,
none of his fantasies went that far…
wakes up when she feels your head leaning on her shoulder… oh… Zen can ever
know you two slept during his movie.
You’re sleeping on her? YOU are sleeping on HER?
feels kinda honored that you think she’s comfortable enough for you to just
lean on, but… why?
two came to see this movie Zen has a cameo on, maybe you two got too tired of
waiting for his scene? She would be offended if it was someone else, but since
it is you… she understands, she felt asleep too, after all.
wonders if people on the row behind you think you’re just a couple and you are
snuggling in her because it’s romantic… she giggles at this thought because,
well… it feels sort of… exciting?
it’s such a bright feeling… the idea of people seeing you as a couple,
imagining you do these cute and cheesy couple things… she would like doing
these cute and cheesy things with you…
you did that while you’re watching one of Zen’s DVDs together, on her couch…
oh! What would she do?
did I miss some funny part?” you whisper at her ear, and she shivers. “Hum…
n-no, MC, why?” “Well, you’re grinning so much… did Zen appear yet?”
not yet… you can sleep a little more if you want, I’ll wake you up, okay?” you
just nod, close your eyes again and go back to her shoulder.
she is grinning again, but it has nothing to do with the movie.
wakes up at his couch feeling something on his lap, it seems a little heavier
than Elizabeth the 3rd
oh… it’s your head, you are… resting your head at his lap, this is… weird? And…
so… intimate? And… good?
least you don’t have your face turned to his body and… oh, you roll over, he
can feel your breathing through his shirt.
invited you over to show you some ideas he had for a new cat project. People
could judge him and he didn’t care, but your opinion on his cat projects is
gave him great suggestions as usual, and you two could spend the whole night
discussing it, but you felt tired at some
point and fell asleep on his shoulder.
should have offered you a bedroom, but he was pretty tired himself… and you’re
so warm and… look so comfortable.
not sure about what moment of the night you fell on his lap, but… does it
really matter? It’s so… amusing…
feels so tempted to caress your hair, it looks so silky… and your peaceful
sleepy face is so… mesmerizing, he could watch you sleep like this every night.
would prefer doing this in bed, when he can look straight at you, laying beside
you… easy there, Jumin…
so weird knowing you trust him that much to let yourself be so vulnerable near
him, usually people feel so intimidated by his presence, but not you… you just
think he’s good enough for you to rest…
“Jumin, doesn’t your neck hurt?” your sleepy
voice is like music to his ears “No, MC. Why do you ask?” “You’ve been keeping
your head down, maybe you have a wryneck?”
worry about me, MC. What about you? Aren’t you uncomfortable?” you look around, grab a pillow and put on his
lap. “I’m okay… sweet dreams, Jumin.” And you get back to sleep.
he doesn’t need to sleep or dream, this is sweet enough for him.
wakes up because this pillow feels a little weird…it’s comfortable, but it’s
it’s not a pillow, it’s your chest… he blushes, did he drool a little? Gross…
and kind of pervy?
looks at you and sees you’re drooling a little too, ok, now he’s not that
Wants to take lots of pictures of you to spam the chatroom, but there’s something about you like this that makes him feel he should be the only one to ever see you so peaceful and vulnerable.
legs hurt, keeping them curled up like this all night because there’s not much
space on the backseat of his car it’s a little uncomfortable. Luckily enough,
the upper half of his body enjoyed this warm and smooth pillow that is your
invited you for a ride in one of his babies, unfortunately, there was a problem
with the engine. He called a tow truck, but it was taking too long and you
looked so tired… so you two moved to the backseat… maybe he was very tired
himself too… who knows if the tow truck showed up after all?
can hear your heartbeat, it’s so liberating and soothing at the same time, now
it’s slow since you’re sleeping, but he can’t help thinking if he could ever
make it race with his words or… with his touch? What is he thinking? No no no…
of your body is under him, but he would still like to touch you more, run his
fingers through your hair, trace your jaw line… he keeps getting greedy with
rarely sleeps this well, well, he rarely sleeps, and being able to relax like
this just because you’re this close could only mean one thing, right?
don’t your legs hurt like this?” your sleepy eyes and messy hair are the cutest
thing he’s ever seen, he swears. “Oh… a little, but it’s fine, MC.”
here, let’s exchange so you can stretch your legs a little.” Now your legs are
curled up and he’s being the pillow.
now he can at least caress your hair, but he’s the one with the heart racing
Summary: ( College au) Your best friend invites you to a party, unfortunately, you can find her anywhere. Luckily you find a pretty cute guy to spend the night with. Words: 2010 Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader Warnings: A drunk asshole, people drinking and doing drugs. This is my entry to @wanderlustingandwandering writing challenge where my prompt was “Do you want me to leave?“
You look around the party cursing yourself, you feel so out of place right now. A few days ago your best friend invited you to a party in one of her friend’s house, you said yes in heartbeat, you felt like you need it to explore more of the college life and there is any better way to do this with a party full of strangers, right?
You don’t have anything against parties, actually, you love them. The loud music, people dancing like the world was going to end and the idea that anything could happen. You could wake up in a stranger’s bed or in someone bathtub.
But in this party, you feel like a fish out of water. The only person that you knew it is your friend and she is nowhere to be found. You grab a bottle of beer out of the fridge, feeling that people are watching you “Hello there, princess.”
For @copperbadge: Sounds like you could use some cheering up this week. :)
Most days, being a superhero did not pay off. He’d been chased through probably twenty miles of
tunnel, managed to drop his last nine arrows down an open manhole (who just leaves manholes open?), and it was only
by the grace of his fingertips that he hadn’t gone down after them. He’d
forgotten to go grocery shopping, he had a headache from somewhere south of
hell, and he was almost hungry enough
to share a bowl of Kibbles ‘N’ Bits with Lucky and call it a night.
“Happy freaking birthday to me,” he grumbled as he trudged
up the stairs to his apartment. By the time he realized that his keys had
apparently gone the way of the arrows, he didn’t even have enough frustration
left in him to swear. He dropped his head forward, hitting the door about ten
million times harder than he’d meant to, and jerked away with both hands over
He definitely didn’t think anyone could blame him for being
a tiny bit slow to react when his apartment door opened by itself, but he did
manage to have a knife up by the time the interloper leaned around the doorway.
Natasha quirked an eyebrow at him. “Is that a sharpened
Clint glowered at her and slid the blade back into his boot –
one of only three, but his count, that hadn’t ended up buried in some guy’s
thigh, or washed away in Shit River. “I had to improvise,” he defended. “Why
are you in my apartment?”
The other eyebrow quirked up to join the first. “Why are you
not in your apartment? Also, you
smell like sewage.”
She tipped her head to the left to examine him, and maybe he
was projecting or something else that the group home counselor would have said
was unhealthy, but he was positive she could see right through the smarting
mark on his head and read his mind. Without a word, she stepped back to hold
the door open and gestured inside with one hand.
“I’ll get you a beer.”
“Don’t have any,” Clint muttered. He had about half a bottle
of Nat’s shitty vodka somewhere, though he’d used the whiskey for antiseptic
the week before.
“Good thing Jan knows how to throw a party,” she said. Her
smile softened slightly and she gestured in again. “Though Tony thought jumping
out and yelling ‘surprise’ was a smart idea for all of twenty-two seconds.”
Clint shuddered just imagining the heart attack he would have had if he’d
opened the door and yelling had been the result. He was suddenly grateful that
he’d lost his keys – he’d forgotten all about Stark’s threatened birthday
party, and he was more than a little surprised that everyone else had
apparently remembered. Now that he was paying attention like an ex-assassin and
current masked superhero with poor apartment security and lots of enemies
should be, he could hear the faint chatter of about half a dozen people and
the subtle clinking of forks on plates.
He glanced at the door and then over to the elevator. “Maybe
I should just go get some chips or something.”
Natasha shrugged. “If you want. But your meatballs will
probably be cold by the time you get back.”
Clint’s stomach emitted a loud snarl, and his mouth
instantly flooded with saliva. Nat might have been kinder than most people gave
her credit for, but she still laughed at him as he stood rooted to the spot,
doing a good impression of a meatball-zombie.
“Please tell me they’re not those
bullshit fancy meatless-meatballs or whatever Pepper had A Thing about,” he
“Nope, they’re the cheap frozen meatballs you get out of a
bag and dump in the oven.”
He could have kissed her. He definitely did moan, “My favorite.”
His apartment had been cleaned, and it smelled like Pinesol
and sweet sweet processed meatballs fresh from the oven. Every lamp he owned
had been moved into the living room, which had apparently not been enough,
because there was an Iron Man suit standing in the corner and glowing like a
six-and-a-half-foot art deco lamp.
“Surprise?” Tony offered, from the kitchen, and Holy Patron Saint
of I’m never letting you live this down,
was wearing a bright yellow apron liberally splashed with hearts and smiling sunflowers,
a matching pair of oven mitts, and a lime green party hat.
“Why are you like this?” Clint blurted out with a laugh.
“Laugh all you want,” Tony said, setting down a tray of
freshly cooked previously frozen guaranteed delicious meatballs so he could
point at Clint with one bemittened hand. His eyes transferred over Clint’s
shoulder and he nodded faintly. “But I’m leaving this here when I go. You can
“Happy birthday!” Jan said as soon as Clint turned to face
her, looking like she was ready to burst. “I really want to hug you, but you
have been out doing things that got you a little too close to a sewer. Air hug!”
She announced and crossed her arms over her own chest, squeezing hard and
It looked like a really nice hug, and Clint was even sorrier
about the damned sewer. He looked between his bathroom door and the piles of
warm meatballs, and made a noise that he normally would have blamed on Lucky,
but Lucky was on his back in the middle of the living room, shamelessly soaking
up the belly rubs from Thor and getting his muzzle petted by Steve.
Natasha pushed past him to the kitchen, piled a dozen
meatballs on a purple plate with the Hawkeye symbol stamped in the middle, and
nudged him away with one finger. “They should be cooled down by the time you
wash your hands. Go!”
Clint eagerly took the plate, leaned over, and lipped one of
the meatballs right off the top. He tried to smirk at her, but was too busy
sucking air in around the molten mouthful as she pushed him toward his bedroom.
Despite orders to the contrary, Clint had devoured the plate
of meatballs before his shower, and he felt less likely to gnaw someone’s arm
off by the time he made it back to the living room. A long folding table had
been wedged between the couch and the bar, and it looked like Jan had dumped the entire
Hawkeye section of Party City on top of it. It was cheesy, and stupid, and
perfect. He stood in the doorway for a second to just look it over – they were
all pretending that he wasn’t staring at them, and that was what good friends
were for when you just got off of a Hell Week leading into Nightmare Night.
Lucky was up on his back legs so he could have his front paw on Tony’s lap and
was doing his damndest to get at the mountain of meatballs in the center of the
“I’m not feeding you,” Tony told the dog seriously, but his
hand was wrapped around Lucky’s ribs to rub at his belly. “Seriously, have I
ever fed a single thing in your entire life? Why don’t you go to climb in Steve’s
lap? He’s a dog person, and I know for sure that he’s fed you at least once
“That was just a treat, Tony,” Steve protested.
“He said the word treat,” Tony told Lucky, which just got
him a messy kiss across the cheek and Tony leaning comically sideways in the
chair to in a vain attempt to avoid it.
“Just push him away,” Clint suggested, stepping into the
living room and climbing over the couch to get the open chair.
Tony gave him a frankly scandalized look, but turned back to
Lucky to say, “You’re not getting anywhere with this. I am immune to canine
“Not all canine
flattery,” Natasha muttered, and for some unfathomable reason, Steve blushed and
kicked her under the table. Natasha neatly dodged, and held an open beer out for
Clint, so cold that it had mist curling out of the neck and droplets running
down the sides.
“I love you,” Clint told her very seriously.
“I know,” she answered.
He swallowed about half of it before pressing the cold
bottle gently to his forehead and rolling it back and forth. This was the life –
why did he not have a million roommates again? He set the bottle aside and
looked down to realize that what he’d mistaken for plates were actually large plastic
painter’s pallets with little cups of “paint” set around the edges. There was a
bright purple cup of paintbrushes sitting opposite his beer, and a stack of napkins with the Avengers Assemble cartoon Hawkeye at his elbow.
Jan leaned forward to explain, but Clint just shoved his
finger in the yellow paint and licked it off – spicy mustard, the kind he got
at Chinese restaurants and poured over everything.
“Or you could just do that,” Jan finished, laughing. “It was
“This,” Clint said, snagging a meatball off the pile and a
paintbrush, “Is the best birthday idea ever.”
Jan nudged Tony, who was still not-really fending off Lucky’s
affectionate begging. “And you wanted to bring wine,” she scoffed.
Clint had three painted meatballs stuffed in his mouth when Jan
climbed out of her chair and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. She leaned over
to press their cheeks together and squeezed hard, rocking him gently
“’appy meathba’ ‘ay,” Clint corrected, but he reached up to
squeeze her wrist and leaned back against her.
Maybe he was just imagining it or something, but it seemed
like his headache was gone.
The Eiffel tower… an extraterrestrial intricate structure landed on Earth directly from a space opera, its iron lace dress freshly decorated with a shine of colorful ballroom lights, is celebrating its 300 millions visitors over many years of stardom life. But under the tower, everything is normal for a midnight on a September end: a park full of cheerful people, mostly younger groups singing together but also many quiet passersby, gawkers like me. The autumn did not reach yet its full power so you can still buy cold beer from dark clad enterpreneurs carrying refrigerating bags. And, the street merchands still have their rugs everywhere, chatting loud with each other, recommending you miniature towers and tossing flying lights in the slowly chilling air. I had my beer only back in the hotel, a local blonde ale with a nice grapefruit zest hops aroma but an unpleasant sting right after that. Hmm, at least I tried.
Prompt: “KEITH PUNCHES A MAN OUT. HE FREAKS OUT AND BOOKS IT.” Thanks, bro.
Rating: T Word Count: 1,600+ Pairing: Heith
“Can we get two beers?”
The bartender nodded and smiled before grabbing a couple of glasses. Amber-colored liquid poured from the tap into each glass, with bubbles collecting into white foam at their brims. She gingerly placed the cold drinks in front of two young men, both a few years shy of the legal drinking age.
They thanked her under their breath. One instantly reached over and took a gulp, while the other cupped the drink in his hands and looked down at it with guilty eyes.
Keith wiped his mouth with a sleeve and huddled in close to his friend to whisper, “Can you stop being so obvious?”
Hunk, who had been hunched over and making himself small, suddenly sat at attention and loosened the grip on his glass. “I know– I’m trying to be cool– But it’s hard,” he stammered.
“You can start by actually drinking your beer,” Keith suggested.
“Right, right.” Hunk brought the edge of the glass to face, hesitating as the foam touched his mouth. Keith’s smile twitched as he watched Hunk frozen in place.
A/N: Long time no see! I am SOOOOOO sorry that this was delayed so much. I’m still working on my project but I really felt like writing. This probably isn’t my best but I really tried lovely. Enjoy!
Anon: Hi! If I may request something could i get and A.Ham X reader where they have a flirtationship and the rest of the hamilsquad teases them and tells them to get together already but they don’t think that their feelings are reciprocated. (even though they both are in love with each other) and reader overhears him talking about his unrequited love for her and reader kisses him AND FLUFF
It was the end of a long college semester. You threw on a gray loose sweater and some black leggings and dragged yourself out of the door. You walked to Hamilton’s house. Before you could get a chance to knock on the door it swung open and three pairs of arms swarmed over you.
Your protests were drowned out by the admirations of the three guys. They finally let go and let you breathe. Laf frowned at you and said, “Amour, why so sad?”
“I’m not sad.” you said, slamming the door behind you. You slipped off your boots and threw your scarf on the nearest chair. “Just tired.”
You walked past the three concerned men and welcomed yourself to the feast of junk food.
“(Y/N),” John said, loose curls falling in his eyes, “forgive me for my bluntness, but you look dead.”
Sarcastically, you checked your pulse. “Oh, still alive.” you shrugged. “How unfortunate.”
Hercules frowned at you and gave you big a hug from behind. He let go and his face lit up with alarm. “She’s dying! I need thirty ccs of beer, stat!”
You laughed and pulled away from Hercules, but Laf and John presented a cold dark bottle of beer in front of you.
“Fine.” you laughed.
Laf popped the cap for you and held it to your lips. You drank. “(Y/N)!”
You put the bottle down to meet eyes with Alex. He was walking down the stairs with an armful of blankets. “It gets cold.” he smirked.
Laf, John, and Herc winked at each other and spoke wordlessly to each other in clear understanding. It was beyond you and Alex.
“Hey, are you okay?” Alex said, when he reached you. He put his hands on your shoulders and looked you in your eyes and smiled. You smiled too.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Just exhausted. I just want a break from all the stress.” you said. You shivered.
Alex took one blanket from his armful and dropped the rest. He wrapped it around your shoulders, leaving his arm slung across. You blushed and held it with your fingers. “Thanks.”
The five of you dismissed the conversation and walked down into the den, sitting on the sofa. You sat next to Angelica and hugged her. Next there was Eliza. And Peggy. Eliza and Alex were no longer an item, they hadn’t been for years, but they were still good friends.
For the evening, you all drank beer, watched movies and played board games.
“Why is it so cold in here?” Angelicia shouted, rubbing her shoulders.
Alex laughed. “Um, yeah, my furnace is broken.”
You found yourself searching for warmth in Alex’s arms. Alex was sat on the floor, against the sofa. You were on his side, but your head rested on his chest, feeling the rhythms of his heartbeat and warm laugh. His arms enclosed your body to him.
“When are you guys going to kiss already?” John shouted, throwing down his cards.
“What?” You and Alex looked at each other and strung apart.
“I-I-I um..” Alex tried to say.
You shook your head and moved a foot away from him, wrapping the blanket back around yourself. There was an awkward silence over the group.
Alex stood up. “I’m going to go find some more beer.”
Guilt and sadness feasted inside of you.
John, Laf, and Herc followed after him. “You don’t need that many people to get beer!” Peggy shouted.
Her sisters laughed at her. “It’s fine.” they said.
You sighed and sat back on the sofa and closed your eyes as you opened another beer. You let it flow down your throat and numb your fingertips. Numb the pain. Numb everything. It was the best feeling. It was the only feeling.
“Would you guys stop it?” you heard Alex yell from the kitchen.
“What? We aren’t doing anything wrong. We are trying to help you! We are doing a favor!” John yelled.
You continued to eavesdrop.
“Ami,” Laf said softly, “you must tell her or we will.”
Alex groaned and John laughed.
“You have had a major crush on her ever since she moved here! Alex, you need to some licking your wounds with Eliza. Okay? It’s over, she has someone now. You could too. You know you want this.” Herc said.
You stood up from your chair and started for the stairs.
Alex sighed. “I-I-I can’t. We’re just friends. That’s what all she thinks we are. Friends are easier to keep than lovers. Lovers you have to chase, but friends are always there.”
“Don’t you love a good game of chase?” John asked.
“It’s not like it was with Eliza. We almost got married, sure, but with (Y/N), I don’t know…it’s just different. It’s like, I loved Eliza but I wasn’t in love with her. I love her like my best friend, because she is. But, with (Y/N), I want to be more. I want to feel (Y/N)’s arms around me. I want to feel those lips on mine. I want to feel the warmth of that smile. I know it doesn’t make sense to say that (Y/N) smells and sounds like sunshine, but there is no other way to describe it. (Y/N), it’s like that time of day when everything is golden. Five p.m. when everything is cast in a beautiful golden glow, but it never goes away. The smell is everything that reminds me of my childhood, everything I miss and everything I love. But, that’s what would make her saying no so much harder.”
Alex turned at the sound of your lilting voice. He smiled with tears in his eyes. He laughed and covered his face. “Oh god, you heard all of that didn’t you?”
You laughed and nodded, your eyes welling up with tears.
Herc, and John were grinning wildly behind Alex. Laf thumped in the back of their heads and pulled them away.
It was just you and Alex.
Alex let out a big breath and pulled you into the next room in a doorway. He held your hands and smiled.
“I meant, every word of that. I don’t want this to ruin our friendship. But, (Y/N), I’ve never met someone like you before. I can see clearly now, because of you. You help me to realize what is important in life and I don’t know how you feel about me. But, (Y/N)(L/N), I am madly in love with you.”
He was holding out on you. His heart was in your hands. He put himself out there. But the question was, were you going to.
The words rushed out of your mouth in a jumble before you could realize what you were saying. You only got half of them out before Alex kissed you.
He pulled away.
You breathed out. The two of you stared at each other hopelessly. “-already.” you finished your sentence. “Just kiss me already.” you breathed and you felt a burden lifted.
“I’m in love with you too, Alex.”
“Can I kiss you again?” Alex laughed awkwardly.
“Yeah. I would like that. Very much.” you laughed. You kissed again, passionate but gentle. Your lips danced like they had done this once before. They moved in time with each other. It was all so new and unfamiliar. But it all felt like home.
Prompt: Chris LaSalle, and he thinks his s/o is acting funny, thinks cheating, but really she bought them a house & wants to surprise him by fixing it up,which is y she’s been acting funny. Happy fluffy, minor angst? A Gibbs-slap from the s/o to LaSalle is bonus pts.
Chris couldn’t help the smile tugging on the corner of his lips. It was nice to finally be home, after a crazy day like this. Granted, most days were crazy. That came with the territory of New Orleans. But today had been especially brutal, and Chris couldn’t wait to sit down in a chair that wasn’t behind a desk or the seat of a car.
He closed the door behind him, hanging up his coat before Chris silently searched the place for the person he most wanted to see. If his couch and a cold beer had been tempting him so strongly today, then you could be compared to a siren. Chris longed to just see you.
Plot: It’s all fun and games with him until it’s not anymore. He’s not that type of guy, yet you still holdout.
Warning: Strong language, smut, angst.
Word count: 1.7k
“Y/n if you don’t answer your damn phone, I swear to god I will come there and rip you out of your house with my own bare hands,” you heard Sehun’s voice boom through the phone. You just shook your head and threw your phone to the side, ignoring the voicemail your friend had left for you. You pulled the blue blanket over your bare toes, bringing it up to your chest, snuggling deeper into the blanket. You flipped through channels on the television, in hopes to find something worth watching. You did this almost every Friday night. It was your time to relax and to be alone.
“What have I said about locking the door, Y/n?” You screamed as Sehun barged through the door, causing you to throw both the remote and blanket to the ground. You raised your hand to your chest, trying to recover from your near death experience. “Good GOD,” you cursed. “Ever heard of knocking?”
“Now why would I do that when I know you never lock your door?” Sehun jumped over the back of the couch and rested his body next to yours. “I mean, you live alone. The least you could do is lock your door.” You rolled your eyes and pulled the fallen blanket back over your body. You didn’t bother grabbing the remote. There wasn’t anything interesting on anyways.
“What do you want, Sehun? “ You finally asked.
“I came to get you. It’s Yixing’s birthday after all.” You slapped your forehead, totally spacing the fact it was one of your best friends birthdays.
“Shit.” You got up from your spot, making your way into your room, Sehun closely behind you. You opened your closet, trying to pick out an outfit in the short time you had.
“Can’t wait to tell Yixing about how his best friend forgot his birthday party.” You glared over in his direction, not really having time to focus on what Sehun was saying. You had gone through one hell of a week with school and work you had totally spaced Yixing’s party. You pulled out a pair of jeans, quickly stripping from your pajamas right in front of Sehun who didn’t seem all too fazed at the gesture. You pulled over a plain white t-shirt, trying your best to get ready as fast as you could. “You and your damn makeup,” he sighed as you took a seat in front of your mirror. You ignored his comment and touched up that day’s makeup, trying to look semi-decent. “Are you ready yet?”
“You know Sehun, you can go whenever you want. I have my own car,” you replied back, trying to get him to lighten up. He just shook his head, exiting your room to leave you alone to finish what you were doing. When you had finished, you came out seeing Sehun sprawled over your couch.
“Let’s go, idiot.” He perked up at the sound of your voice and followed you out your door, making sure to lock it behind him. You rolled your eyes at the boy, his smirk vivid.
You had known Sehun for over eight years now. You met your freshman year of high school when you had first moved into the city. You two instantly clicked and have been friends for just about ever. You have never once felt anything romantic towards Sehun and he was the same way. It worked that way. It always worked that way.
You two arrived at the party in full swing. People were coming in and out of the party; drink in hand, laughter taking over the night. “There she is!” Minseok smiled as he saw you walk in. “Yixing has been looking for you.” He pointed to the kitchen where Yixing was standing with Jongdae and Kyunsoo. You thanked Minseok and made your way into the kitchen where Yixing was telling a story about his day to the other boys. When he noticed you, he stopped mid-sentence and yelled your name.
“Finally! I was beginning to worry that you had forgotten.”
“Pft what? Me?” You sarcastically laughed. Yixing leaned his body against yours, handing you his cold beer that was in his hand.
“So like I was saying,” Yixing started his story again. “We were just sitting there and he literally just looks over at the guy and asks ‘do you have a problem? Cause if you do we can doing something about it’ and I didn’t really know how to react.” You wanted to pay attention to the story but found your mind wandering elsewhere. With Yixing’s arm around you, you didn’t really have much room to move about but you could still see your surroundings. “And then he fucking punched the guy!” You whipped your head back to the conversation, trying to puzzle together what they were talking about.
“Fucking hell,” Jongdae cursed.
“He ran off so fast.” You looked to your right to see Chanyeol make his way into the small group, joining the conversation. You felt your heart beat faster as his eyes landed on yours, a small smirk forming on his plump lips.
“Yeol here didn’t give a shit,” Yixing laughed. “I mean, I would be afraid of him too if I came across him.” Chanyeol was a tall, well-built, man. He had tattoo’s up and down his arms, his hair always pushed back with either hair gel or a snapback. He was known for his famous looks and persuasively cunning personality.
“Are you sure he wasn’t running away from that hairstyle?” You pointed at his newly bright pink hair. Chanyeol glared at you before pushing his hair out of his face.
“Shut the hell up,” he glared.
“Birthday boy!” Sehun cheered, entering the room with a beer bong in hand. “Let’s get this shit show started!” You unraveled yourself from him letting Sehun take the limelight, placing the bong above his head. Everyone gathered around, cheering him on as he downed three cans of PBR, which was probably the shittest college beer you could get but it was his favorite. You found your way out of the kitchen, finding a quieter place to compose yourself. You still had Yixing’s beer in your hand, taking small sips from it here and there.
“Heard that your roommate moved out.” You looked up to see Chanyeol leaning against the doorframe. “A shame. She was hot.” You rolled your eyes and turned your attention back towards the beer in front of you. Chanyeol sat in the seat right across from you, trying to grab your attention once more. “What do you say we go back to your place?”
“What makes you think I want to take you home, Yeol?” You raised an eyebrow, leaning back in your seat so you got a better view of the boy in front of you. He leaned his torso on his knees, balancing his beer between his index finger and his thumb. The way he smiled in your direction caused those familiar butterflies to form, igniting a fire within you. You couldn’t help but scoff at his stupid remark.
“I didn’t hear a no.” You stood up, placing the beer down on the side table, reaching out and grabbing his hand and leading him outside to his car. Once out of sight, he was quick to press you up against the passenger side. He crashed his lips into yours, reaching his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him. He pulled away and opened your door behind you, letting you get into the passenger seat.
It was a game he played. He would always try and get you away from everyone, having you to himself. He would sleep with you, stay the night, then leave, hooking up with the next girl that came into sight. There wasn’t anything between the two of you, or at least you thought so. You wanted this to mean nothing. You wanted this to be lowkey. You wanted this to be nothing and to him, it was. But to you, it wasn’t. You felt something for him. Something that felt amazing yet would tear you to pieces in seconds. You tried to distance yourself but he had a way of drawing you back in. And for what it was now, you were okay with it. You liked the feeling of his lips pressed against your skin. You liked how gentle he was with you. But then again, he was probably this way to everyone.
You led him up the stairs, quickly unlocking your door and slamming it shut behind you. Chanyeol didn’t waste time. He picked you up and carried you all the way to your room, closing the door behind him. He laid you down gently on your bed, using his hands to move your shirt up and over your head. He attached his lips to your neck, leaving small love bites down your torso, one hand gently gripping your breast, the other holding your hands above your head.
It was a fun secret that you two had. No one else knew and no one else needed to know.
You liked this because it was fun and it was distracting from your prior relationship that wasn’t the best. You felt different with him. But in the end, he wasn’t the one you could have to yourself and that crushed you. You pushed the thought in the back of your mind as Chanyeol wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him.
“Are you coming to the show?” he asked, pressing his lips against your ear.
“I mean, my best friends are performing,” you replied with a ‘duh’ tone.
“Plus we have that new drummer,” he pointed out. “I think his name is Bacon but I don’t know. And I don’t care!” He pressed a kissed against your cheek before hopping out of your bed. He grabbed his underwear that was on the ground, pulling them up over his waist.
“Bacon? Chanyeol, that can’t be right,” you laughed. Chanyeol shrugged, tugging his pants up over his hips. You let out a small pout at his sudden gesture, wishing he would stay just a little bit longer than he had intended.
You turned over, admiring the view in front of you as he tried to dress in the dim lit room. “But I’ll see you after the show right?” He smirked. You rolled your eyes at his remark.
“Gross.” He raised an eyebrow, pulling his shirt on over his bare chest, covering up the hidden tattoos.
“Gross?!” He laughed. He leaned down, leaning inches away from your face. “You weren’t saying that minutes ago when I was fucking the shit out of you.” He leaned in and kissed your swollen lips before pulling away and putting on his jacket. “I’ll see you around baby.” He shot you a wink before leaving you alone in your empty apartment. You leaned back in your bed, looking up at the ceiling, taking in all that had happened.
That was it. That was all you really had to explain your relationship with Chanyeol. There wasn’t much to it other than feeling on fire for a couple of hours while he took control of every inch of your body. His touch always left you wanting more. The question on your mind was always the same.
Did he make others feel this way? What was he feeling? He was a mystery to just about everyone besides his fellow band members, confiding his life with them. You knew he had one hell of a past when he first started his freshman year at college but other than that, you didn’t know much. Every time you were to bring it up, you were either silenced by the other boys or Chanyeol which always ended up in him ignoring you for a week.
But things never stayed that way. He would always find himself, tangled in your bed sheets a week later, making you feel like the only person in his world. The way he would press his lips against yours, leaving small love bites against the exposed skin of your neck. It was those few moments you begged for, that you yearned for, yet they were always cut short. He would leave you there, confused with his perplexed sense of wonder.
You felt alone without him being there, regardless of who he was and his reputation. There would always be this sense of abandonment, laying there as you deepened your body into the comfort of your bed. But that is what he is best at. Not really caring.
naruto is ready to tell sasuke that the ghost of one of his deceased relatives is haunting them, looking for its mother, when sakura elbows him in the stomach to shut him up. the little girl stands at sasuke’s feet and reaches up, asking him to pick her up. he assesses her briefly before bending forward and complying.
“what just happened?” naruto whispers to her.
“i have no idea,” sakura replies. she smiles at the little girl – this strange child that, honestly, could very well be a ghost like naruto insists – and the girl smiles back.
“i love you, mama,” she declares, reaching out for sakura. she squirms wildly until she’s mostly leaping out of sasuke’s embrace, forcing sakura to catch her.
“she thinks you’re her mother,” naruto says. he walks around sakura to stand in the hall with sasuke. he doesn’t even looked ashamed as he slowly backs away, tugging sasuke along with him. “sakura-chan, i know you’d want us to survive without being cursed or made into ghosts as well, so–”
Trappist-1 makes me laugh because Trappist monks brew beer so now I'm just imagining a Star Trek universe where people visit the Trappist-1 to get wasted on beer brewed by space monks.
this is amazing and i love you
the Trappist system have found a way to get along, and a great many centuries have passed since the last war ended in a sulky peace. each planet returned to their homes and got piss drunk. decades passed in nearly no communication between the planets as they quietly got over their resentment and made various alcohols. Each planet got very good at their preferred drink.
The second planet, where it is unbearably hot, live underground because even though all the planets are tidally locked (i checked, that seems the most likely option, which is a shame, but hey, Remans exist) theirs is the hottest soil. So they live underground and grow their edible roots and make their vodka with ice and they love it. It is an awful colour for vodka, but they’re mostly blind so they don’t give a fuck.
The third planet, comfortably in the habitable zone, has a ring of rainforest-esque flora and they make some damn good rum. They live in their trees and have still got their large climbing claws, but they have developed modern methods of movement, they have escalators and moving platforms, and so on. They like their rum.
The third planet have sooo many rivers and the habitable ring resembles venice or just straight up pirate ships depending on the area. These guys have the best. fucking. grape. vines. wine up the ying yang. These guys are wine mums personified with gills.
The fourth planet, the last one with life, is fucking cold. Any day over freezing temperature is a day for a party. These guys go for beer, and they go hard. How tf are you gonna sleep if you don’t have alcohol thinning your blood so that you don’t freeze cos it’s so fucking cold. They got beer, blubber, and hard, leathery skin. Rockin.
They finally meet up again, 50 years having passed and the treaty demanding contact. Each planet brings a gift to the banquet, and each one brings their drink. There is some confusion and awkwardness at first, but then they realise that they’ve all brought alcohol, and maybe they have a bit more in common than they’d thought.
is a girl who, due to her genetics, has the power to feel and hear
everyone’s thoughts and feelings around her. In return for the surrounding teenagers being unable to control their emotions/thoughts,
she decides to act as if her own does not exist. (Y/N) is called a robot by many of her peers but she’s far from
emotionless, as a certain Peter Parker discovers at one of Tony
A/N: Uploading again lmao i’m just excited for this! Also, slight hint to a Bucky imagine that’s coming up!
“O-oh sorry! I d-didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I
just… you should smile more often.” When (y/n) didn’t respond just kept
staring at him, Peter decided the to make a run for it from this now awkward moment.
When Peter turned to walk away
his arm was lightly grabbed. “Where are you going, Mr. Parker?”
“Oh, uh I was just going to leave because I was making you
uncomfortable…” Lightly turning him towards her once more, (y/n) spoke
with kindness in her voice for the first time in a long nine years.
“No, please. I meant no disrespect by not replying and I did
not say you made me uncomfortable, Mr. Parker. I was simply shocked. Plus, we
haven’t even ordered drinks.”
“O-oh okay uh…”
The bartender getting their orders of fizzy drink, him getting a
coke and her a lemonade. The music and talking continued to thump around them.
(Y/n) could see people dancing in different styles Nat and her mother being the
most prominent and strange dancers. Her mother was attempting to do some form
of belly dance and Nat, her mother’s best friend, was trying to grind on her at
the same time.
There were worse dancers around, however, not as bad as Steve and
Tony. (Y/n) was sure they didn’t have that move in the 40’s, judging by her
uncle Steve’s face. Turning to Peter, (Y/n) saw that he was also people
watching and she suddenly remembered their original conversational question
that brought them over here.
“I believe you were about to tell me about this Spock
character and my relation to him and his…?”
“Vernacular?” Peter smirked, sipping on his coke, (y/n) looked
at him awkwardly from the side of her eyes. “…Yes.”
“Okay so, these films called Star Trek began in-”
For twenty minutes, Peter explained Star Trek and who Mr. Spock was
along with the Vulcans culture. For those twenty minutes, (y/n) listened
intently and asked questions. Indeed, she was interested in it and these
Vulcans, they seemed to have somewhat similar problems to herself.
"This is… fascinating"
"You’re legit Mr. Spock, but female.“ Peter laughed
throwing his arms out, ultimately spilling his drink on the lady behind him.
Hearing a scream and realising his mistake, Peter began apologising. “Oh, my
God, ma’am, I am so sorry!” “-asshole-!” “It was an accident!” The woman and
Peter were interrupting each other, him apologising and her screaming at him.
Having enough of the woman’s screeches, (y/n) decided to finally
step in; it was after all an accident. Once the woman caught sight of her
eclipsing around Peter and her eyes began to widen in shock; anyone who was
anyone at this party knew her relations and ties to the Avengers in addition to
“Is there a dispute here that is of such emergency, that you feel
the need to disrupt my hearing with your maddening vociferate?” The woman
simply could not keep up with (Y/n), deciding to not say anything and leave
quickly, not looking back. Peter’s mouth opened and closed multiple times
looking and pointing between (y/n) and the lady. “You didn’t have to do that
you know, I could have handled it.”
“Why because you’re Spider-Man? Yeah, you’re an infant here to
these people.” She took a drink and hadn’t seemed to catch Peter’s open mouthed
and small hurt look. “Yeah, well we can’t all be as perfect as you (y/n) … And
how did you know I was Spider-man?” Finally looking at Peter she could see the
little bit of hurt on his face and she wondered why she hadn’t detected it with
her powers. (Y/n)’s lips turned down slightly in discomfort.
“I assure you, Mr. Parker, it was simply a fact I concluded of the
behavioural kind, I meant no offense. Also, chances of you, a
seventeen-year-old boy, knowing Tony Stark? Not likely.” Peter looked at her in
confusion, “I analysed you and your mannerisms during your interaction with the
lady… and other times…”
Blushing arising on his cheeks from the reminder. Quickly realising
her mistake of mentioning she’d been keeping an eye on him, (y/n) moved on.
“Watch, I’ll show you. Now turn around and stop blushing like a
tomato.” He laughed and felt the tension leave his body at her more casual
tone. Turning around, he and (y/n) both had one arm on the bar each as they
lean their backs against it. She had no shame in pointing at people and her
first victim: an elderly lady who was wearing a large feathery hat.
“That is Madame Tueclue,
pronounced two-clay and never tue-cole, as she so readily reminds me every time
I haplessly run into her at events. She’s big in the fashion world but her
every being wants to change careers to politics. Right now, she’s thinking
about her next unfortunate target to apprehend with her new hobby of political
conversation, probably Mr. and Mrs. Abrosh, New York’s mayor and leading lady.”
Peter looked over to the balding man who had a very unimpressed woman on his
“The Abrosh’s, though have outwardly good marriage, generally hold
hate towards each other. Though the sake of money and careers hold them at each
other’s side. Right now, she’s considering approaching that other gentleman
who’s being eying her all night and having her tenth… no, eleventh affair.
Though let’s be honest Mr. Abrosh has probably been doing the same.”
Peter smiled at her conclusions, “so, what’s your point on all
this?” “The fact is Peter, that the foolish and selfish people are steadily
easier to read. Plus, their attitudes are just common amongst these people…”
He shook his head still not understanding. (Y/n) shook her head,
facing the bar once more and ordering another drink. When the bartender left
after giving her drink, (y/n) continuing the clarify.
“The point is Mr. Parker, if you want to be an Avenger, you must be
able to do more than, excuse my language, ‘kick someone’s ass’. It’s compromise
and it’s knowing that you have more battles than ones involving the physical.
These people have been fighting their whole lives in some cases, having grown
up in these environments of pure competitiveness and status. AKA. Tony, who
often handles a lot of the Avenger’s press work.”
She continued, failing to notice Peter’s discomfort.
“To these people, you have no
status or identity here because nobody knows you’re a superhero, unlike the
other Avengers whose identities are public. To these people, you are fresh meat
to pick and taunt, for lack of another metaphor. Therefore, you appear an
infant, stumbling his way through the social classes.”
“I’m waiting for the part where you say that it’s not meant to be
offensive…” The frown on his face was apparent as Peter cringed slightly, the
tone was cold but he knew it was just her normal self. “It is not offensive Mr.
Parker, it’s the truth.”
“Can I ask you a question (y/n)?” Peter said suddenly and
somewhat harshly, frustrated at her coldness.
“You just did.”
“-and you just told a joke…” A slight pause of just (y/n)
blinking at him. “What’s your deal?”
“My deal, Mr. Parker?”
“Why are you so…distant, refuse to make friends at school?
Why use your analysing skills to judge people rather than talking to them?”
What he didn’t know is that these weren’t analysing skills, the
facts came directly from the people themselves.
“I assume you refer to my emotionless persona, do you
“Well, yes. I mean you’re seventeen, yet you act like the
worlds already destroyed you. That you know all there is to know about
everything and everyone.” His slightly angry tone caused (y/n) to feel a bubble of
anger stir within her. He didn’t understand, how could he? She might know about
his alternate persona, but not everybody knew hers.
“You walk around with this look in your eye, that without even
speaking, someone’s offended you. If someone approaches you, you instantly turn
them back. You’ve barely talked to me and you’ve already made presumptions-”
His tone showed frustration and somewhat hurt.
“But were they true?”
“That’s not the point! What-is-your-deal…?”
Peters’ voice dropped off as he noticed a dangerous look in her eye-
even with no expression, he could tell that the small act of kindness she’d
show before was now blown n out of the water; he’d overstepped.
“If you must know, not all of us have the luck you do, Parker.
Unlike you, I grew up in this environment, I know the stakes. I’ve been in this
‘superhero world’ much longer than you and know every possible outcome, friends
aren’t always an option, especially when you have the abilities or have the
family I do. I now believe this will be the end of our interactions now and in
the future, Mr. Parker. Goodnight.”
Walking away gracefully with a tense figure. Cold, calculated and
almost physically threatening anyone that attempts to approach her. (Y/n)
hadn’t even realised that what she had been feeling wasn’t the result of
someone else’s feelings. They were her own and the boy across her- she hadn’t
felt his thoughts or feelings.
Peter stood frozen an incredulous look on his face, the feeling in
his chest felt like it was eating him from the inside out. It was like her whole
demeanor and speech had paused time. “Shit…" He finally managed, running a hand over his
face as he turned back to the bar, hanging his head.
"Oh no, what did you say?” Bucky ruffled his neatly combed
hair and Peter swatting him away. After fixing his hair he turned to Bucky, who
was leaning over the bar to grab a beer. “I
asked her why she was so cold and basically…”
“Why she had no friends?” Peter
turned to the man next to him, “You were-” “I was listening.” His mouth in a
large smile. “That’s like five levels of invading someone’s personal life!”
Peter exclaimed, only to receive a smile in return. “She’s like that with
everyone, you’ll just have to learn to get thicker skin and not take it so
personally. She doesn’t mean any harm or offense.
"I know I go to school with her…” Peter played with his
fingers as Bucky looked back at him while leaning on the bar, beer now in hand.
“Then why do you look like she just punched you in the balls and then
broke up with you?" Both
parties slightly laughed.
"Look (y/n) has been through a lot, personally, and decided
that this version of her is best for everyone. I don’t exactly agree but it’s
her choice. I can’t even imagine growing up from day one in the center of the
fights between good and bad. Especially when she’s like all the Avenger’s kid,
she becomes a major target. (Y/n)’s seen a lot of bad things, the fact that
she’s how she is some kind of miracle” Sipping on his beer, he saw Peter
“W-what happened to her?”
“You see everyone in this room, there’s what, 200 to
Peter nodded enthusiastically, looking around and seeing some
people pulling off quite embarrassing dancing moves. Cringing, Peter faces
Bucky and tried to casually lean on the bar like him. Slipping a little, he
settles for just sitting on the stool.
“Now, based on her parentage is she had one power what would
you think it would be?” Peter thought hard and yet he spoke the first thought
to his mind, mentally face palming afterward. “The ability to walk through
solid objects?” A loud laugh washed through the air, Bucky clapping Peter on
the back. Wiping his eyes after a solid ten minutes, he continued.
“No, but that would be a sight to see. Okay, imagine hearing and
feeling every thought and emotion in the room.” Bucky was so casually that
Peter wasn’t sure if he was kidding. Looking around Peter could only visualise
the many thoughts racing through this room accompanied by bouts of emotion.
When Peter caught sight of Mr. Abrosh eyeing a young girl hungrily, he cringed
at what thoughts he imagined were going through the oily man’s head.
“Are…are you saying that she can hear and feel all of these people simultaneously?”
Bucky simply tipped his beer in Peters direction as a silent ‘yes’.
“Is there any way to block it or help her?”
“Easy, keeping your thoughts to yourself. Unfortunately, you
can’t ask everyone in the world to do that. As for helping her, what do you
think we’ve been trying for nine years. When (y/n)’s first thoughts from others
started coming through, she was eight and she thought she was going crazy. Not
exactly encouraging, but we tried everything from training her to taking
magneto’s head gear and attempting to reverse it somehow. Nothing worked, we
just seemed to amplify it.”
Peter let the silence drag on as his thoughts raced. How wrong he’d
been to judge her harshly, when she was the only one who could truly see people
for how they were. She wasn’t making assumptions at all, as Peter realised, his
eyes widening. Peter believed he fucked up so badly that he wasn’t sure there
was a way to rectify it; he was sure. Frowning for the millionth time since he
arrived at this party, he turned to Bucky.
“How can I-” but Bucky had already left to socialise with
Steve and wrap his arms around his girlfriend.
The nb!Alex headcanons/ mini fics you posted are wonderful! Is there any way you can expand on the 4th one with Kara? I would love to see Alex come out to Kara. I would also love to see the gala and Alex feeling good in their suit- maybe Lucy is there like a pre-director sanvers thing? I don't know. I'm asking too much I know. I just love your writing. Thanks for all that you do!
hi! i know this is approx. ten years after you sent this - but i was finally struck with the inspiration. so here is alex coming out to kara.
your hands are shaking.
your hands are shaking, your mouth is dry and god, god,
you’re pretty sure your throat is closing.
you’re sitting, curled on your couch, trying to find a way to extricate your arms from around your legs. you’re trying to find the moment wherein your muscles will listen and standing can happen. there are groceries sitting on the counter, there is root beer getting cold and ice cream is slowly melting.
you have so much you should be doing - but kara is coming.
kara is coming and it’s sister night.
”it’s been so long,” kara agrees over the phone “you and me,” she says, obviously so excited - you can hear it in her voice “sister night.” and you hate the way your stomach twists.
Jungkook knew this was a bad idea the moment he uttered an annoyed yes in between his teeth. He fucking knew it, but he dared someone to remember a moment in which he said no to Park Jimin. Blame his best friend’s merciless puppy eyes. Jimin played dirty to get what he wanted and Jungkook was way too weak. Even when giving in to Jimin meant neglecting his own feelings.
“You’re way too old for this childish shit.” Jungkook had told him, hurt in the heart, when Jimin requested him to ‘be his fake boyfriend for a night’.
“Jungkookie, please… I just need him to see us together once. Just once, I promise.” It was even worse they were going to fake it for the asshole Jimin had had a crush on. They fucked once and then the guy ditched him for some other chick. Surprising, right? Such an original cliché.
“Do you even like him? Still?” Jungkook remembers himself asking, having faked his wobbling tone with incredulity for Jimin’s dumbness.
“No! I just want to get revenge… Please?”
Jungkook sighed. That’s how he ended up in a party he didn’t want to be, too many drunk people for a too tight place around him. He somehow managed to find a way through the sea of bodies crowding him til the only empty armchair, claiming it as his own before someone else did. He didn’t get up for a good couple of minutes, having lost Jimin two seconds after they walked past the front door. He closed his eyes, a sigh escaping his dry throat begging for a cold drink. He wanted a beer so bad, but he couldn’t risk losing his seat for some gross couple to make out.
However, sometimes angels really are sent from above – just not in Jungkook’s life, of course. In Jungkook’s life the above can only send him back a slightly drunk Jimin climbing up his lap, full ass pressing down his thighs a little bit too hard for his despair. He sighed again, eyelids still resting against his eyelashes – not needing to slid them up to know the weight on his legs belonged to Jimin.
The smaller boy closed his hands around Jungkook’s black tshirt, leaning closer so he could whisper on his ear. “Hello boyfriend.”
Jungkook gulped, ignoring his stomach twirling, and lazily opened his eyes, tired of that stupid act even though they had just started. “Is he here already?” he asked, not bothering to look around to check. He didn’t want to see the source of Jimin’s thirst for vengeance anyway.
“Not really.” Jimin sat back straight, eyes finding Jungkook’s, a smile Jungkook knew too well playing on his lips. “Just thought it’d be good setting up the mood between us first.”
The younger rolled his eyes, but his hands were resting on Jimin’s waist and he didn’t know when that happened. “Please, don’t make this more awkward than already is. You’re my best friend. And you’re drunk.”
Jimin tilted his head to the side, dragging his hands up and down Jungkook’s clothed chest. Fuck. He knew this was a bad idea.
“Oh.” Jimin’s brows jumped just the slightest bit up, the surprised pout on his lips soon being replaced to a suggestive smile when his hands stopped just above Jungkook’s heart. “Someone’s nervous…” he murmured against the younger’s nose, feeling his heartbeat with fingertips pressed against his chest.
The distance between them was now too fucking distracting for Jungkook to be thinking straight. He squeezed Jimin’s hipbones tight on his hands, getting the older boy to press his ass against his thighs harder, their growing erections meeting through their pants. Jungkook gasped.
“Jimin–” he choked, but it was meant to be a warning. This was not going well.
“What?” Jimin leaned in closer, reaching for his best friend’s jawline, teasingly sticking his tongue out to trace a wet line of saliva till below Jungkook’s ears. He parted his mouth open and sweetly sucked the flesh, bringing his hips further onto Jungkook’s lap and sitting down on his cock.
Jungkook’s mind went blank.
He placed his hands on Jimin’s lower back to steady himself and maybe try to halfheartedly stop the boy from grinding against his erection, but it only motivated Jimin to drag his lips lower, teeth scratching Jungkook’s neck muscles with just enough pressure to get his chest rosing up and down. He kissed the curve of Jungkook’s neck and then pressed his tongue over it, sucking harder than he did before, the younger jolting his hips up in response.
“Fuck.” He managed out, too breathless for the word to come out properly. “Can you stop?” he asked, and even though his body was showing the otherwise, he really wanted to stop – he didn’t want Jimin like that, drunk and trying to make out with Jungkook for the sake of his ego in a ruined relationship.
But Jimin was stubborn like a child, so he obviously didn’t listen to him. Instead he pulled Jungkook’s tshirt down and licked his collarbones, bitting down afterwards. Jungkook sucked in a breath.
“What were you saying?” Jimin smiled against his skin, hands going down to the hem of Jungkook’s shirt.
Devil. He was the devil.
His warm fingers reached for Jungkook’s bare skin beneath the cloth, dragging them up until they were rubbing and pinching his nipples and – Jungkook have had enough.
He grabbed Jimin’s wrist, his hard cock twitching inside his pants as if complaining about the decision he was making. “I told you to stop.”
Jimin scooted back to look at him, a mix of hurt and surprise swimming on the surface of his brown orbs. Maybe Jungkook’s tone had been a little too harsh.
“Why?” his eyes were shinning with genuine innocence – it almost didn’t seem like they belonged to the boy with a hard dick pressed against Jungkook’s stomach.
“We don’t need to do that if your stupid crush is not here.”
Jimin seemed hurt now. “Don’t you want to?”
Jungkook was caught off guard, the unexpected question disarming him. He wanted to, but not in those circumstances.
“That’s not what I said.”
“Then kiss me.” Jimin leaned in again, hands going up Jungkook’s shoulder, and then getting lost in his soft hair. It almost sounded like a whine, but it didn’t seem like Jimin cared.
Jungkook resisted the urge to close his eyes and do as Jimin asked – as he himself wished.
“No.” He gulped.
“Why not?” Jimin murmured. He was so close, so temptingly close, Jungkook was forced to lick his own dry lips to focus on another thing other than his best friend’s hot breath invading his mouth. Jimin watched him as his tongue swiped over the red flesh, gaze not leaving his lips even after Jungkook finished.
He tightened his grip around Jimin’s waist, the elder shrinking under the touch, a soft whine hanging from his throat as his eyes fell closed. “Why are you acting like this? Stop making me misunderstand.” Jungkook’s voice was raspy, the hoarseness making Jimin close his hands in tight fists on his hair.
“I’m not…” he moaned, pressing his thighs harder on the sides of Jungkook’s body, a shudder going down both their spines. “I’m not, so please, kiss me.”
“Why–“ Jungkook was just starting to feel in control, when Jimin suddenly pushed his head back until it hit the coach, and wrapped his lips around Jungkook’s, the latter’s heart unable to keep its humanly pace, beating faster than it had ever done before.
The touch lasted long enough only for Jungkook to be overwhelmed by the feeling, overwhelmed by the way Jimin’s lips were so full it completely enveloped his own, so soft it made the spots where it touched tingle with sweetness. He was about to part his mouth, so he could catch Jimin’s bottom lip on his own, when the older pulled away.
Their gazes met, Jimin’s dazed eyes answering Jungkook’s half unsaid question a lot better than any word would. ‘Because I want to’, they said.
It was all it needed for the younger to pull his hyung closer – closer than he had ever been before –, their lips clashing together in a kiss that it was much too soft and much too rough at the same time. Jimin licked inside his mouth and Jungkook melted, the warmness of his tongue spreading down his chest to his toes; the fisted hands pulling Jungkook’s head back so he could deepen the kiss. It was all too much – the clenching in his stomach, the desperate beats of his heart, the heat of Jimin’s body against his –, it was all too much and it was driving Jungkook to the verge of falling. Falling harder than he had ever fallen before. And he was scared, but he was a lot more lost in the way Jimin’s tongue licked and curled around his to give a shit anyway.
He wrapped his arms around Jimin, not wanting to pull apart neither wanting for reality to break into their moment. But their lungs were both needy for oxygen, so they just parted their lips enough to pant into each other’s mouth.
Jimin catched Jungkook’s bottom lip between his teeth – still breathless, but needing to breath Jungkook more than he needed to breath air –, letting it softly slide through his lips just so he could catch it a moment before it completely escaped his mouth to sweetly suck on it for a second or two. Jungkook groaned in repressed pleasure and frustration simultaneously. That was a mess. He didn’t know what they were doing.
“What are we doing?” he verbalized his worries, but Jimin just loosened his grip on the younger’s hair, sprawling his fingers on it and pushing him forward.
“Who cares?” he mumbled, eyes already closed and Jungkook knew there was no way back. “Shut up and kiss me.”