tomorrows hangover

Crush

Summary: Everything about Bucky Barnes drives you wild…that’s basically the plot…

Warnings: smut, sexual tension

A/N: I spent today writing my own mini thesaurus, by hand, and I came up with this idea during my breaks.


“Fuck!” Your back slammed down against the thick mat, air shoot out of your lungs.

“If you’re not paying close attention to your enemies you’re going to get yourself killed. What the hell has you so distracted?” Steve stretched a hand out, helping you up.

“N-Nothing.” You huffed, avoiding eye contact with the super soldier in front of you.

That was a lie, a big fat lie. You were completely distracted by the man across the room, the one with the glistening metal arm and the chocolate brown hair. Motherfucking Bucky Barnes. 

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Blurb Starter #36. “And you’re naked. Okay.”

Friends who couldn’t hold their liquor were the worst. Normally, you would get super frustrated having to take care of an inebriated friend.

This time however, you had to admit that it was rather amusing.

When Bucky Barnes arrived at the Avengers Tower, he had been mysterious and a tad closed off. Everyone sort of gave him his space and waited for him to warm up to what was going on. He did eventually which pleased you.

Now, he was drunk off his ass and it was the funniest thing ever.

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2AM - part 8 (A Minseok Series)

Genre: Angst / perhaps a bit o’ fluff(??????)

Characters: Minseok X You

2AM [M] - Canon AU - Angst / Smut part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9


“Ahh,” you saw the pink in Kwangseok’s cheeks as he looked beyond you at Minseok, processing the words he heard as he came through the door before looking back into your face with a tiny grimace on his handsome face.

“Have I made a mistake? It’s just–” He rubbed his hand over his neck and looked at his feet. His shoes were left behind at the door out of habit, “–you told me last night to just come in.”

“I didn’t realize there would be company. I would have brought more coffee.” The smile on his face was tense. You saw clench of his jaw and heard the throat clearing from behind you where Minseok stood silent and motionless, probably thinking of some remark to fill in the building awkward silence that slowly settled over your head.

This was your part. You were supposed to speak now, yet you found your tongue uncooperative and impotent inside your mouth as your mind ran away with the memories. Last night….when you and Kwangseok had been laughing and giggling in that darkened corner of the bar and the drinks had flown through your bloodstream, bringing your flirting and frenzied laughter along as his eyes watched your lips move.

This was before.

Before the phantom of your love brought Minseok into existence into that very bar. This was when you were well lost in the illusion of having a fun night out with your….something special. What was he? Kwangseok wasn’t your boyfriend, as Minseok so pointedly called him as he ran away from the knocking door moments earlier. Yet the longer your memory played in your mind, the more you felt something. A sort of guilt, a sort of confusion, definitely the memory of Kwangseok’s lips on yours and the taste of his breath against your tongue. The memory of that broke through the haze of last night’s alcohol.

And your words as he ordered yet another drink, placing it in front of you at the table.

“Will you bring me coffee tomorrow for the hangover I will have?”

His shy smile was adorable even through the fuzzy memory. Yet in that smile you caught a flash of something. Disappointment maybe. Perhaps he had read into your words. Knowing you were definitely not inviting him home for the night, but would see him first thing in the morning instead.

And here he stood, holding two piping hot coffees from the cafe on the corner and a small bag with what smelled like sweet bread of some type. Perhaps those fish shaped buns from the old woman outside of your building. He knew you liked them, and Kwangseok had proven to be attentive and considerate in the short time you had gotten to know him.

A jolt inside of you made your lungs gasp in for the air you needed to speak and your mind scrambled for an excuse.

“Ahh, Minseok just stopped by after his morning run…to catch up. Last night in the bar was the first we had even spoken to each other in…h-how long was it?” When you turned to face Minseok, your eyes pleading with him to go along with your blatant lie, his eyes pulled themselves away from the taller man who used up a third of the oxygen inside of your apartment and he looked right into your lying face.

“A month.” You heard Minseok’s response, his voice quiet and believable. His face was blank and completely empty of any emotional reaction. His lips pulled into a tiny smile. Eyes void of any humanity and you recognized the expression. This was Xiumin now. The professional who reacted and performed as he was told when it was needed and when you turned to look back at Kwangseok you saw the way his shoulders relaxed, his jaw unclenched and he made his way further into your apartment to set the coffee and bread down on the table in your dining room.

“A whole month?” Kwangseok’s surprised voice reached your ears again and you inhaled a breath and nodded with an awkward smile.

“Yeah, not even a phone call.” Minseok leaned with outstretched arms onto your kitchen counter, his head hung down between his shoulders and you could hear the false layer under his voice cracking a bit. His eyes were down on your granite countertop and the flex in the muscles of his arms told you just how tense he was.

“He really does get busy.” You added softly and Kwangseok glanced between the two of you slowly, probably gauging the truthfulness of your words.

You didn’t blame him one bit. Everything about this situation looked bad. He’d walked in to your apartment unannounced, even though now you clearly remember scrawling your door code onto the palm of his hand with the pen you found inside his coat pocket. He’d laughed and accused you of frisking him and the intimacy made your face feel hot and flushed. Or maybe it was the look in his eyes as you had done it.

And once inside, with his promised coffee and good intentions, he finds another man inside of your home. Both of you trapped and stuck, looking guilty as you struggled to come up with a believable reason why Minseok would be here so early in the morning, other than the obvious.

He spent the night with you…holding you tight against his firm body as he slept and woke up with your legs still tangled within his own, the smell of your hair fresh in his nose and his body heat leaving a print on your skin that lingered for hours.

Did Kwangseok believe it though? His words were telling you that he did but the weird staredown he seemed to be having with Minseok was bringing a tense air into the room.

“Well then…I suppose the gentlemanly thing to do would be to leave you two to catch up.” Kwangseok shrugged into the empty space over your dining table and you slowly released the breath you had been holding without being too obvious that you had been holding it.

“No that’s not necessary,” Minseok lifted his head, sprung back to life suddenly you saw him moving around the counter, closer to where Kwangseok deliberated, and the taller man waved his hands in defeat.

“No, its really fine. I’ve had her all to myself this whole month,” Minseok swallowed hard and his feet stopped moving. He reached an arm out to steady himself on the counter and Kwangseok continued, “It’s only natural for old friends to want to catch up after so long. Especially when one of them might be moving on toward a new stage in her life.”

The breath you had been slowly releasing got stuck and caught in your throat and you coughed once, gasping a bit on your side of the dining room. You felt Kwangseok’s arm run along your shoulder, patting you lightly along your back.

“You two go ahead and catch up,” Your eyes were wide on his and even though you saw the sweet smile you had grown so fond of on his face, his eyes had a different hardness in them that you hadn’t seen before. You nodded your head once, settling out whatever it was that was happening on your own face and forcing a smile onto your lips.

“Please, enjoy the coffee Minseok.” He motioned with an arm toward the drinks on the table and Minseok’s frozen expression did not budge beyond the slow way he licked his bottom lip and bit down hard. His cheeks were pinker than usual and you were sure you had a similar coloring on your own face, based on the heat you felt at the back of your neck.

That heat was joined by Kwangseok’s hand as he moved the comforting patting up higher and you felt his fingertips run along your skin, making your eyes shoot to the soft brown eyes of the man who stood in front of you.

He watched your face for a moment, eyes roaming over your expression, most likely taking in the burning in your face and the heat you were sure he felt under his hand at the back of your neck.

“You’ll call me later right–” He whispered into the space between your faces and you closed your eyes once, trying to push the vision of Minseok out of your mind. Minseok who was surely watching this with the vision of a hawk. Minseok who was feeling whatever pain he was feeling from having to take part in this fucked up situation you had somehow let happen, “–when you are done with this?”

Kwangseok tilted his head, further blocking your view of the man who stood behind him and your gaze fell right into his eyes.

“Of course Kwangseok,” you assured him as well as yourself and you felt him lean into you. You felt the warmth of his cheek as he closed the distance and his warm breath lingered on your neck.

“Thank you, beautiful,” He said into your ear, loud enough to be heard from across the room and you felt the softness of his lips press up against your skin. Molding into the softness of your cheek as he kissed your face, moving too slowly for this situation. Your heart raged and clawed inside your chest with the kiss and you closed your eyes, wishing Minseok didn’t have to be here for this.

The warmth of his skin vanished while your eyes were still closed and you heard the footsteps of his retreat. You heard the door close and your mind swam as the heavily suffocating silence settled inside your chest, swelling up and coating your ears, your tongue, and your resolve with dread.

What would you find when you opened your eyes? Couldn’t you just keep your eyes closed forever and perhaps…not face the man who remained inside your home, probably watching you with those piercing eyes, waiting for you to build up the courage to face finally face him?

The groan did it. Soft and pained from across the room in a voice you knew, you opened your eyes to find Minseok leaning heavy against the wall of your kitchen. Having fallen backwards and given into the gravity that pulled at his body he groaned out and hung his head. Eyelids closing down he rubbed both hands over his face slowly and firmly, rubbing over his closed eyes. Cleansing his vision of the small bit of affection he had witnessed. Your guilt pulsed with your heart beat.

He didn’t nt speak. He didn’t move and he didn’t look at you for what felt like ages and when he finally moved you flinched from surprise. He moved quickly, dropping his hands to his side and taking three large strides in your direction. Closing the distance between where the image of him leaning against that wall burned a negative into the backs of your retinas and where you had stood watching and waiting for his reaction.

You expected him to be upset.

You half expected him to yell at you for bringing him along for this ride of lies, or possibly turn and leave without saying a word but what he did made your eyes widen and you inhaled a sharp breath of surprise.

Minseok reached the table where the coffee and bread sat and he reached for one of the cups, quickly removing the lid he lifted the cup up to his lips, ignored the warning rise of steady steam telling him it might be too hot to drink, he took a long sip of the coffee, forcing the scalding hot liquid down his throat with a noisy swallow.

You heard a gasp that had a tremble deep inside and the shaking in the cup gave away the dangerous mood you saw brewing deep within his rapidly blinking eyes.

“Minseok–” you called out his name softly and you saw him lift the cup again, forcing another swallow that you were sure he didn’t taste one bit as he gulped.

“–Minseok stop–”

“Why?” He said gruffly, his eyes still refusing to look up into yours and you reached for the paper cup he held in his hand.

He moved suddenly, pulling the cup away from your reaching hand and you saw the hot liquid slosh over the edge of the cup and dribble over the back of his hand. Your worried eyes watched his face for signs of pain but saw nothing but the steely look he shot back at you for interfering in whatever he had decided must be done with this fucking coffee.

“He told me to enjoy it. Enjoy his coffee. Enjoy his breakfast. Enjoy that fucking bed I slept in last night with–” The stab was so quick you nearly didn’t feel it until it began to set in. You felt the sensation creep up the back of your throat and you swallowed roughly at your guilt. Minseok didn’t finish his sentence but you knew the word he suddenly choked back with another quick drink of the coffee.

You.
The bed I slept in last night with you.

“Isn’t this what you wanted? For me to be your accomplice? Or would you care to share with me why you felt the need to lie about what happened between us last night.” You looked at his hand again and saw the redness growing where the coffee had burned him and you caught a change in his posture as his shoulders sagged. Much of his anger and bravado caving with the bitter words he shot out at you.

You took the chance and reached for the cup, prying it out of his hand. He didn’t try to resist this time and you held the cup in your hand that he also held in his own hand.

“I’m sorry, I panicked,” you admitted and you felt the burden of his eyes as he watched your face too closely.

When he let go of the cup, most of his anger seemed to have dissipated and you saw the return of the same forlorn look you had seen in his eyes last night. The same look you saw flash through his expression again and again as he looked at you during breakfast that morning, hidden well beneath friendly casual smiles and friendly gestures.

His eyes glanced down at the cup as he let go of it and you pulled it fully into your grip, feeling the heat of the liquid well through the thin paper, you looked down at the red on his hand with worried eyes.

“Minseok, your hand–”

“He wrote something there for you.” Minseok spoke up louder than you and interrupted your worries as you looked down at the cup in your hand.

Scrawled in permanent marker you read your name and below it, a message.

‘I like you a latte.’

The silly pun felt like Kwangseok’s usual style and your stomach churned as you looked back up into Minseok’s face.

“B-But Minseok…what happened last night, that was–” Your mind felt too jumbled for this kind of conversation suddenly and your stupid heart pumped too loudly inside your ears as you tried to figure out exactly how you felt, how he felt about the very real, yet very terrifying intimacy you were sure took place in that bed last night.

Intimacy without even the hint of sex.

The room was so quiet you were sure he could hear your pulse if he listened hard enough.

“–t-that was nothing,” you eked out through the flush on your face and you heard the thundering silence the filled the room you occupied with him.

You were sure it had been nothing… right? It had to have been nothing. He had just been exhausted and you had had too much to drink and the combination had weakened his stone-like resolve and you…well you had always been weak to Kim Minseok.

“Nothing,” he whispered under his breath and immediately took in a gasping draw into his lungs, peppering out a quiet scoff. A humorless laugh that had you shaking your head instantly.

Had you been wrong again?

He reached his hands forward onto your table and leaned against it, bracing on the sturdy piece of oak furniture that complimented the color of your kitchen cabinets and Minseok’s blonde hair alike.

“Minseok,” your voice pleaded and his eyes opened to meet yours. Incredulous and unsatisfied, those eyes stared at you with his lips parted and the tip of his tongue running along the fleshy part of his bottom lip.

“I didn’t mean nothing nothing–” your words scrambled from your lips quickly, backtracking like a coward you tried to clean up this mess before yet another stain set in, “–I just meant…we didn’t really … do anything that would be considered–”

“If you think that was nothing then you must not know me as well as I thought you did.”

A weird panic welled up inside of you, the more you heard from him. The hurt beneath the words screamed at you and you shook your head in earnest now. He couldn’t think that.

“You know I don’t mean it like that Minnie,” you insisted as you reached for his hand. The one you knew he had burned when the coffee spilled and your touch made him jump and wince.

“You hurt yourself,” you whispered. Concern for his well being was a constant in your life regardless of how confused you remained about the status of your relationship with him and he looked down at his hand in genuine surprise to feel the pain that came with your touch.

You pushed against his shoulders, surprised at how easily he moved under your palms and he turned as you steered him into your kitchen. An empty barstool readily accepted him and he sat in a daze at the counter watching you move around your kitchen.

“Did you…did you like it?” His voice was quiet and he cleared his throat nervously after he spoke. Clearly uncomfortable with the words he had forced himself to say.

“Yes,” your honest answer was easier to say with your head buried inside the drawer inside of your walk in pantry and you kept your eyes down on the first aid kit you pretended to be looking through.

“It was nice.” The burn ointment laid easily right on the top but you needed a bit of a crutch. The red medical supply pouch would have to do.

A movement from him flashed in your peripheral and you looked up and turned to see him walking and coming closer to you, his eyes focused on where you stood hiding on the other side of the open pantry door.

Your hand gripped the pantry door only to feel it swing open as he reached for it, closing in on your hiding space and exposing you as just as big of a coward as you always knew you were.

“What kind of nice?” His quiet voice bounced against your face and he took another step, moving even closer to you and your mind wandered through the many questions you had for this man as your eyes wandered over the smoothness of his beautifully familiar face.

“Why did you go along with it? Why didn’t you tell Kwangseok the truth?” You had to ask. Your curiosity was burning at this point. If he had been so offended at being involved in your lie then why didn’t he just tell the truth right away and ruin everything you had, with Kwangseok…whatever it was.

His hand was moving. The one not holding on to the door raised and your eyes followed its movement until your eyes went crossed and you felt his fingertips running lightly along your chin, along your jawline to your earlobe. His eyes flitted around with a disconnected look in their sharp angles and you tried your hardest not to close your own eyes at his touch.

“I think,” he began speaking as his fingertips turned and made their trail downward again, “that I would go along with anything you said…as long as–”

The light pressure of his thumb ran along the outline of your bottom lip and his eyes watched his own thumb. You found breathing difficult when his eyes pulled upward slowly, looking straight into your own surprised ones.

“–I’d do anything not to see that hurt in your eyes again. I don’t want to ever see that look because of something I did. Not ever again.”

His words felt significant, but there was a spell being cast from those eyes of his. The warmth that spread through your chest felt like a salve, soothing the years of hurt you always felt when thinking about Minseok. By no means healing it entirely but you felt something soothing in this.

It felt genuine and despite his close proximity to you he wasn’t leaning, he wasn’t pushing you to believe him or to respond with acceptance or forgiveness for any of it. You could see the vulnerability in his eyes as he watched you and his hand moved to cup your cheek softly. Gentle and light against your skin you could feel his warm breath against your face with the closeness of which he lingered in front of you, having moved well inside your hiding space inside the pantry. He had come to you this time.

When he licked his lips and bit down lightly on his upper lip, before releasing it and doing the same to his bottom lip, your focus was pulled. That pouty mouth that naturally turned down at the corners danced through your vision until he settled and stilled with his lips parted and his white teeth peeking out from just behind.

Before the latest crisis with Kwangseok, Minseok confessed that he missed the way you tasted and if you were being completely honest with yourself you missed his taste as well. You loved this man but you also craved everything about him. Including the flavor of his breath.

You must have leaned because the feeling of your lips cascading over his parted ones flipped a switch inside of your belly, sending a feeling of warmth flooding through your abdomen and lower. You felt the flush of your skin and you heard the thrumming of your own heartbeat in your ear drums and when his lips parted further, pulling your tongue inside of his mouth the sound at the back of your throat surprised you.

Minseok kissed you back. His hands moved from your cheek to thread fingers into your hair at the back of your neck and another arm slipped around your waist and squeezed tight as you slinked your own arms around his waist, running your palms up his back.

Your brain told you that you needed to breathe but he was kissing you back with a slow tenderness you hadn’t expected. It felt different, yet as familiar as breathing in and out or walking on your own two legs.

He was the one to break the kiss first and the deep gasp for air you heard him take mirrored your own deep breath. With his arms still holding your body firmly you felt the weight of his forehead rest against your own and his lips, still wet from your mouth pressed lightly against the tip of your nose, once, twice, a third time and the appreciative hum from him vibrated against your chest that rested firmly against his.

“I may be rusty on the whole ‘just friends’ thing but I don’t think friends kiss each other the way you just kissed me.”

He was right. You swallowed away the bitter knowledge of that fact and you tasted something on your tongue. Something just a bit off about the kiss and your mind focused and cleared as you realized what that taste was.

Vanilla latte. The drink Kwangseok had bought for you that Minseok drank moments earlier.

Kwangseok.

Minseok had been silent for a while until he relaxed his hold on you and took a step back.

“Umm–” he said quietly, with his eyes shifting back and forth, “enjoying his coffee is one thing, but I doubt this is what he expected when he left us alone together Baby.”

Minseok’s mind had wandered in much of same direction as yours had and his hands ran through his hair with a low groan of frustration.

It was your own fault though. You had kissed him. You had forgotten that you told Kwangseok to come over for breakfast last night when you were too drunk to know better. You were the one that climbed into that bed with Minseok and gave in to the intimacy you had been craving from him all along and now, you could feel something stiff pressing against your thigh in the close confines of this stupid kitchen pantry.

“I’m sorry Minnie,” you said, although you didn’t really feel sorry for what you had done. Not with the heat between his legs resting against you the way it was.

He took another step back and his warmth vanished. Your bottom lip stuck out further with his absence and his eyes glanced down at your mouth.

“Where are you going?” You whined and he laughed once.

“I don’t know where I’m going but I’m going. You–” He backed up again and you caught the way he pulled at the waistband of his sweatpants, adjusting himself inside his underwear. “–you really are unfair sometimes.”

You knew he was right. You were, again and again, too weak when it came to Minseok.

“Stop looking at me like that. You know we can’t do this.”

Had you been pouting more? You bit down on your lip to stop it from happening.

Minseok had gone silent again. His arms over his own chest as he leaned against the counter, well away from you and the space you stood and tempted him from. He was watching you with a look on his face that told you he was working up to something. You could practically see the words dancing on the tip of his tongue when he opened his mouth and licked his lips again. He reached up to wipe his own mouth with his fingertips but his eyes were on you. His fingers moved too slowly along his bottom lip.

“You’re going to have to do this. I don’t trust myself anymore, it has to be you.” He was breathing heavily as he watched you and you shook your head, not quite sure of what he meant.

“What?”

“Tell me what to do…tell me what you want. I’ll do anything. You want me to be your friend just, tell me that. But this…” he pulled his finger away from his face and pointed toward the pantry through the open door, “–this kinda thing makes me want to–”

He cut himself off with a deep breath before he continued. “–makes me want to enjoy fucking his woman too.”

You closed your eyes and dropped your head. The temptation was too much but the aftertaste of that coffee sat heavy on the back of your tongue. Despite the fact that you and Kwangseok had never set any parameters for your relationship, the truth was that you had been seeing him for a month. You knew he liked you. Honestly you liked him too. He was nice. He doted on you and showed you the kind of affection you had always wanted and he treated you with respect and trust.

He didn’t deserve this. And you probably didn’t deserve his blind affection. Not with how you had been behaving around Minseok all morning.

Not that it was fair to Minseok either. The man was clearly affected by you and you knew better than to kiss him like that.

The longer you stood with your eyes closed and your thoughts and guilt bouncing around your heard the more the spell drifted and faded and you heard Minseok hum as he seemed to realize what you were doing.

“Sorry. That was … just my dick talking, I’ll behave now.” A beeping was sounding out and Minseok pulled his cellphone out of his back pocket, silencing the device.

“Work?” You knew the usual signs as he screwed his eyebrows together and scrolled through something on his screen.

“Mhmm,” he hummed, “I have to go.” His nose scrunched up and he made a face complete with adorable frown and wide eyes. He was purposefully acting cute now, to settle the tense mood that had developed between you both with the kiss.

You nodded, understanding that his job would always come first. It was something that you accepted years ago. He was EXO’s Xiumin before he was your Minseok and you hadn’t once ever tried to fight it.

He was halfway to the door when he paused and half turned back to face you. Of course you had followed him as he exited, reluctant to see him leaving after having had him for so long…the whole night, something that had never happened before and your heart longed for it to happen again and again while your brain screamed that he wasn’t your boyfriend and you should stop dreaming of such silly unobtainable things and be thankful that you had found another man who might possibly be more available to love you the way you’d always wanted to be loved.

“Hey there’s this…” he reached for you absentmindedly as he talked and you felt his fingertips tracing along your open palm. Did he know he was touching your hand? Did he know how hard your heart pounded when he touched your hand absentmindedly like this?

“Chanyeol is throwing this early Halloween party this Saturday. It’s just us and our closest friends and it would be great if you came.” His brows were lifted and his face sweet and hopeful. The sight made you smile and nod your head twice.

“Yeah? You’ll come?” He said with a widening crooked smile on his face.

“Yeah I’ll come.” Why did you feel so giddy all of a sudden? Like your high school crush had just asked you out in a date and your smile took over your face, threatening to give away just how excited you were at the idea of finally hanging out with Minseok at his place, with his friends and group mates, actually in his world for once instead of hidden away inside this apartment with him doing secret and naughty things you didn’t feel comfortable even telling your best friend Minhee about.

“You have to dress up to come.” His face had taken on a beautiful brightness that he was working just as hard as you to conceal and his hand linked his fingers between yours.

He was stalling and you couldn’t keep your eyes off his face as he did it.

When you heard the beeping coming from his pocket again he laughed and groaned as he let go of your hand to silence the alarm on his phone again.

“I’ll send you the time and address,” he said. His hand was on the door now and he pushed it open turning back to look down as he pulled his shoes on. Before he was fully out the door though he turned back and you yelped when his hand found yours again and tugged you hard into the doorway. His hands reached for your face and you felt his lips pressing up against your cheek. Leaving noisy sloppy kisses against your face as you giggled at the sudden attack.

It was silly and unexpected, especially from Minseok and when he let you go you wiped at the wetness on your cheek with the back of your hand, trying not to laugh too loudly.

“There. I got you back for earlier. I’ll see you later love.” He said with a cheeky grin and a wink and his hood and face mask were on as he rushed down the hallway toward the elevators that would take him to the exit.

You lingered at the door for longer than necessary, watching the space where he disappeared around a corner and you jumped when the sound of a throat clearing behind your door made your eyes widen and your heart leap inside your chest.

“Love?” The person standing on the other side, who had definitely witnessed the entire exchange asked in a voice as familiar as could be and you winced as you slowly peeked your head around the door to meet the questioning eyes of the person who stood there.

2AM [M] - Canon AU - Angst / Smut part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9

Nursing Hangovers (Mick x Reader) Imagines

Requested by/dedicated to: @doctorscompanian​ 
*~*~*~*~*
Imagine:
Mick is suffering from a hangover from last night’s drinking game. Grumpy and grouchy, he calls you - the Doctor of the ship -over and asks you how he could make it go away…
*~*~*~*~*

“Dammit, Doc!” Mick grumbled, gripping his head tightly. “Why the hell do hangovers hurt so much?”

“Because they’re your body’s way of telling you to stop drinking?” You answered.

“Bullshit!” He growled. “I haven’t gotten a hangover in years and I’ve been drinking just fine…!”

You chuckled.

While Mick was one of the most tolerant people whom you knew could hold their liquor well, he had somehow gotten hammered from last night’s drinking game against Sara.

Drowsy, dehydrated and definitely disoriented, Mick had called you over in hopes of finding a cure; but, unfortunately, in all your experience, you’ve found no compelling evidence that suggested there were any effective remedies to treat one.

So, the most you could offer to him was comfort and water.

Lots and lots of water.

“I swear to God,” Mick grumbled, lowering himself so that he could fully lie down in his bed. “I’m gonna kill the person who invented hangovers…”

Keep reading

4

Jaebum pulled up outside the bar, screeching the car to a halt and lunging out of the drivers’ seat to walk around the car towards the doorway. He found you, shivering in the cold night air, clutching your elbows around your knees as he bent down to meet you at eye level.

“You’re freezing” he mumbled as he quickly flung his coat around you, noticing the long, dried up rivers of mascara that your tears created on his way there. His heart clenched in his chest as he pulled you to your feet, quickly finding out that walking in 7 inch heels wasn’t going to work. He scooped you up - bridal style as he held you in close to his warm body, carrying you over to the car while the many onlookers whooped and whistled in jest at his apparent heroic actions.

“Ignore them” he whispered in your ear as he set you down to open the car door, helping you inside and buckling your seatbelt before shutting the door and joining you on the other side, putting the car into gear and setting off  in the direction of home.

“Are you mad at me?” you whimpered, looking at his hand resting on the gear stick as he shifted it to third gear.

“No” he paused, taking a deep breath and concentrating on the late Friday night traffic. “You just, scared me.”

“It’s not like I was going to die. Everyone gets drunk Jae” you sighed as you sank yourself down into the seat, watching him take the familiar turns and roads to your apartment.

“That’s not what I meant. I thought I’d lost you, (Y/N). You still don’t believe me, right?” he looked at you as he parked the car in front of your place, pulling the hand-break up and switching the engine off.

“I do believe you. I was just, angry.” you looked down to the car floor as more pitiful tears began threatening to fall down your cheeks. Jaebum clicked his tongue before ejecting both of your seatbelts, hopping out of the car and running around to help you out too, taking you in his arms once again after locking the car and carrying you up to your apartment. He used the spare key you gave him many months ago to let you both in, helping you remove your shoes before lifting you into your bedroom.

“Lets get all this muck of your face and then get a good nights sleep. You’re gonna have one hell of a hangover tomorrow.” he gave you a sleepy smile, referring to your make-up as he pulled out your removal wipes from your vanity - diligently cleansing your face as gently as he could.

He stood up, motioning for you to put your arms in the air as he pulled your dress off you, un-doing your bra and removing his shirt to put it on you before taking off his jeans and rolling you on to your side in case you would vomit in the middle of the night. He snuggled up behind you, letting his hands place themselves on your hips as he pulled his body closer to you, finally being right where he wanted to be after all the mess that happened.

“Jae?”

“What is it baby?”

“I’m sorry, I love you. So much”

He gently kissed your neck, pressing his lips flush against your skin and letting them linger there for longer than usual.

“I love you too. Close your eyes and go to sleep baby. I’m not going anywhere, so just sleep now”.

Adam’s Rib (part 1 of 3)

Pairing: Lin-Manuel x Reader

Summary: Lin is a bartender. You need a drink.

Word Count: a fuck ton (approx 18k)

A/N: it’s problematic and full of plot holes but maybe let it go and try and enjoy it

So, this has been a long time coming, we know. It’s been a whirlwind of a time, and we can’t tell you how much has gone into this. We just wanted to thank all of you for being so patient with us, we know this took so much longer than we anticipated it would. 

Thank you so much for supporting our lack of chill and insanity, it truly means so much to us that we have such an incredible following, and we still can’t believe all of you exist! We love you all so very much!! Both of us are extremely emotional about every single aspect of this universe, and we are legitimately super excited to show you what we’ve been concocting this entire time (so much yelling behind the scenes, y’all, omg). 

Warnings: for now, it’s just alcohol and drinking, but this may or may not get a bit darker in parts two and three.

And now, without further ado, we hearby present part ONE of THREE of Adam’s Rib.

– Team GTNW –


“Hey, Lin, could I get another beer?”

“Stan,” Lin sighed, resting his hands on the bar in between them. “We both know you don’t need another.”

“Come on, you already took my keys so what harm could it do?”

Lin raised his eyebrows at the patron, a middle-aged man with graying hair and a fondness for wearing Hawaiian shirts in winter. As a bartender, Lin technically had the right to cut Stan off, call his slurring ass a cab, and move on to serving the handful of other patrons hanging around the bar at nine p.m. on a Tuesday.

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Drunken Confessions

Requested by anonymous on tumblr: “Can you do 22 and 80 with a Gaston x reader pretty please?" 

 22. "I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I don’t notice." 

 80. "How can you think I’m anything but hopelessly in love with you?" 

 Plot: Y/N goes to the tavern to get her mind off of things, and accidentally has one too many drinks and confessed her feelings of Gaston to Le Fou. 

Warnings: Alcohol and swearing. 

This week has been absolute hell. First, my favorite dress got stuck on a bush while I was walking through the forest and ripped, I burnt my hand whilst putting another log in the fireplace, and to top it all off, my boyfriend James cheated on me with my ‘friend’. So understandably, I needed a drink to forget the week’s events. As I head into the tavern, I notice that there’s not as many people as usual. Even better, so less people will see me drunk. I walk over to the counter and sit down on a stool. 

"Rough week for you?” The bartender asks me. 

“You have no idea.” I say with a sigh. “Give me your strongest drink.” I say as I hand him some money. He hands me a glass of whiskey. I down the golden liquid, enjoying its bitter taste sliding down my throat. As I ask for another, someone sits in the stool next to me. 

Keep reading

Put All These Pieces Back Together

// requested by anonymous:  HI U R SUCH A GOOD WRITER I CRY okay could u possibly do a Peter Parker x reader where the reader has a crush on Peter but she doesn’t know if he likes her and she used to have an eating disorder & one day they’re @ a party and her drunk friend says something about her not eating today or something and Peter overhears and takes her aside and asks if she’s okay and like comforts her idkIDK like maybe angst at first but then super cute by the end IDK THANKS SO MUCH ILY

// a/n: oml i feel so loved, thank you so much for the praise!! i’m so, so sorry this took so long to get up, i had a massive, unshakable case of writer’s block. i hope i did okay… it’s sort of cheesy but hopefully you’ll like it anyway. thanks for the request and the love <3 enjoy!!

// character: peter parker/spiderman

// pairing: peter x reader

// summary: “your heart’s never soared this high and you think he might just be the person to fix you.”


It’s past curfew on a Friday night, and this is exactly the sort of situation you’ve been told to stay away from.

The party seems like something straight out of a cliche high school romance flick, with red solo cups littering the floor and hormonal teenagers pressed against each other in the corners, lips locked together and hands roaming each others’ bodies.

Your senses feel dulled by the constant, heavy thrum of the bass blasting through the speakers and the strong reek of alcohol that seems to have settled into the air. Still, you haven’t been to a party since–well, since before everything that happened last year, and Becca has vehemently assured you that the awkwardly clingy black top you dug out of her closet makes you look “like a total catch”.

So part of you thinks that having a little fun might not be such a bad idea.

You destroy your opponents through a few rounds of beer pong, expertly avoid a game of seven minutes in heaven before one of your friends can drag you in, fail fantastically at pool and spend a lot of the night mingling and swaying to the music.

It’s a little past midnight when Becca stumbles into you, a ditsy smile plastered on her face and her eyes clouded with insobriety.

“Hi,” she mumbles giddily as she pitches forward and you hastily grab her shoulders to keep her from spilling to the ground in a heap.

You chuckle a little. “How much did you have to drink?” you say loudly, trying to make your voice heard over the pounding music.

A crease forms between her brows and she shrugs. “I dunno,” she grins. “A lot.”

With a mixture of exasperation and fondness, you sigh and set her on the couch. “God, you are going to have such a hangover tomorrow. Promise me you’ll let me drive you home?”

She nods, but you know she’s not really listening when her eyes glance in the other direction and she says in what you think is supposed to be a quiet voice, “He’s staring at you.”

Your eyes follow her gaze to a familiar brown-haired boy in a Star Wars t-shirt, who quickly looks away to observe a nearby game of pool. “Who, Peter?” You laugh a little, but a hot blush creeps up on your cheeks and you duck your head. “Yeah right. Like he’d be staring at me.”

Your best friend’s gaze swivels from him to you and back. “You should tell him,” she declares.

“Say it a little louder, would you?” you hiss sarcastically. “I don’t think they heard you in Jersey.”

She laughs. “I’m serious,” she says, though it’s in a hushed whisper this time as she pulls you closer by the arm. “You’ve liked him for forever. And judging by the way he’s looking at you in that outfit,” her voice dips into a sing-song tone as she slurs, “he likes you too.

Rolling your eyes, you shove her shoulder gently. “Shut up, Bea, you know he doesn’t think of me that way.” you huff, and a smirk crosses her face as she stands abruptly.

“Whatever you say. I’m gonna grab some food,” she says, stretching. “You want anything?”

You shake your head, but she pouts. “Y/N, you skipped lunch, too,” she protests.

“Yeah, because I had to make up that test for Mr. Dewar. I ate after school,” you explain. You’re not lying; you don’t do that anymore. You’re better now. Or at least, you’re trying.

But Becca, drunk, doesn’t seem to see it that way. “Are you trying to stop eating again?” She makes a poor attempt at a whisper. “Because you know it’s not good for you.” She sounds like a scolding parent, and a few pairs of eyes around the room drift over to you.

Stop staring, you plead mentally, your insides squirming under their gazes. “Bea,” you say through gritted teeth, “I’m fine, okay? Drop it.”

“You can’t keep doing this to yourself!” She’s loud. Too loud. Heads swivel in your direction.

People are looking at you. Everyone’s looking at you. I’m fine, you want to scream. It’s over. Nothing’s wrong with me.

But their eyes linger.

You feel like it’s freshman year all over again, and you’re collapsing on the gym floor and the nurse is bending over you and saying something about malnourishment and everyone is staring at you and you can’t breathe. And suddenly, you’re back to being the object of gossip and stolen glances and whispers in the hallway when they think you aren’t listening– she’s that anorexic girl, the one who was fat until she starved herself.

You have to remind yourself that you’re here and not there, that this is a party and you’re supposed to be having fun but instead you’re trying to remember how you’re supposed to breathe.

In, out. In, out.

Right. Easy.

So why can’t you seem to catch a breath?

It takes you a minute to realize that your hands are shaking and that Becca’s still talking, although you aren’t really listening anymore.

You mutter some excuse and slip out of the room; she tries to call out to you but you can’t seem to get to the back door fast enough.

The grass is wet. The air is humid and cool and heavy with the smell of rain, the sharp contrast to the heat inside hitting you as you step into the yard, tugging at the sleeves of your jacket and trying to shove the taste of bile back down your throat.

The smell of alcohol lingers on your clothes and you can still feel the bass from inside; you wonder for a moment what you’re doing here, when a book and a warm blanket seems like such a nice alternative.

Oh right, you think to yourself. I was trying to be normal, for one night.

Normal. You’ve spent the last eight months trying to get back there. Talking to doctors, therapists, guidance counselors, anyone who thinks they can help. You remember the before picture of it all, when you were scared and angry and you hated yourself, and now you feel the exact same way and you think that maybe you haven’t come all that far.

“Why did you do it?” the counselor asks, sincere concern lacing her words. “You have such a beautiful body, can’t you see that?”

You try to laugh, but think you might cry instead as you looked up at her. “Have you ever been to high school?”

She gives you the look, the one you’ve come to know all-too-well, that mixture of pity and disappointment that seems to be etched on everyone’s faces these days. You want to tell her to stop, that you don’t want her pity, that you might feel a lot better if everyone would just quit looking at you that way–

“–re you okay?”

Surprised, your head snaps towards him immediately. You didn’t even notice him come out. But Peter’s standing there, concern in those deep brown eyes and one hand running through his brown hair nervously.

You open your mouth, tempted to say you’re fine, that there’s nothing for him to worry about. But as you look at him, you feel a bit of your resolve wear away. At first, you’re not sure why, but then, you think, it’s Peter, the geeky science nerd you’ve known for years, exchanging study guides and making cheesy science jokes from the back of the classroom and maybe falling a little in love along the way. It’s Peter, so instead of lying you shake your head. “Not really, no,” you breathe.

“You’re not…are you still…” he trails, like he doesn’t quite know how to phrase the question.

Your choice of words, however, is more blunt. “I’m not starving myself anymore, if that’s what you mean. I haven’t done that in a long time.”

Peter looks at you for a long time, as though trying to figure out whether or not you’re lying, and then gives you a slow nod as he leans against the wall next to you. “What happened in there?” he asks quietly, shoving his hands into the pockets of his hoodie.

“Nothing.” You drop your gaze, refusing to meet his eyes. If you do, you think you might break into tears.

“Y/N, you can talk to me.”

Sighing slowly, you glare at the ground. “I just…I couldn’t breathe. I–everyone was staring at us. I didn’t want to-to stay in there and let them gawk at me like I was some animal in a zoo. Like I was some…” you grit your teeth, voice shaking, “some beast that they were looking at through glass.”

He hesitates, and then, sounding shocked, “Is that how you feel?”

Part of you wishes he would leave, so he wouldn’t see you cry. “That’s how I’ve always felt, Peter. Why–” You shudder as your voice breaks. “Why do you think I did this?” You look up at him, blinking tears out of bloodshot eyes. Slowly, you sink into the grass, ignoring the fact that the rainwater is seeping through your tights, and draw your knees to your chest.

He doesn’t say anything, just kneels next to you and holds you in his arms when you finally break into shaking sobs, your breath stuttering as you try to hold them back. But you don’t think there’s any part of you that can fight it anymore, and the tears just fall in a torrent of frustration that you haven’t let go of in far too long. The saltwater streaks down your face and soaks his hoodie, and he runs his fingers through your hair, hugging you against his chest and resting his chin on your forehead.

“I’m sorry,” you hiccup when the sobs finally slow, your voice muffled by his body.

Peter shakes his head. “Don’t be sorry,” he murmurs. “You don’t deserve to feel this way.”

“Maybe I do.”

“You don’t.” His voice is insistent as he cups your cheek with his hands. “You don’t deserve this. You’re beautiful.”

He sounds…honest. You meet his eyes, and sincerity is all you can see. Something inside of you swells. “I haven’t…no one’s ever said that to me.”

“They should.” A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. “I don’t hold just anyone as their tears totally soak my favorite shirt, you know,” he teases.

A watery chuckle escapes your lips, and he grins, looking a little proud of himself.

“I guess it’s a good thing I wore waterproof mascara,” you joke, wiping the wet tracks away from your face with a sleeve and sniffling. It earns you a laugh.

“Do you…want me to walk you home?” he offers as you pick yourself off the ground.

You shake your head. “I think I’ll stay a while. Someone’s got to keep Becca from making a total fool out of herself,” you say, taking a deep breath to compose yourself and then starting to walk towards the party.

He chuckles. “I’ll stay for a while, too, then. But, uh, Y/N? One more thing.”

“Yeah?” You turn around.

A flash of nerves crosses his face before his hand wraps around your waist, the other one resting in your hair, and he kisses you. It’s soft and sweet and his lips taste better than anything you’ve ever forced yourself not to eat, and it’s Peter and your heart’s never soared this high and you think he might just be the person to fix you.

Late Drunk Night Encounters

Word Count: 632

A/M: This is a complete shit show and super rushed but I just had to write it. It was inspired by this audio post, and this anon ask (thanks anon). And okay if you’re new here I want to be drunk with both Harry and Niall so bad, so this is an idea I’ve had in the back of my mind, and I’m definitely revisiting again at some point for sure. Either way, hope you still like it, tell me if you do Xx
Also if you like reading things, I’m working on a series of stories inspired by the songs on Harry’s album. Check it out ;) 

H.S Album Series Masterlist | Ask


You opened your eyes to hear the specified ringtone coming from your cell phone. You didn’t even need to look at it to know who was at the other end of the call. You thought for a second to ignore it, but in a sleepy daze  you decided to pick up the phone just so the ringing could end. 

“What do you want Harry?”

“HIIII” he said from the other end. 

You rolled your eyes and knew he was drunk calling you. You just hung up hoping he would leave you alone to sleep but you heard the phone ring again. 

You let out a frustrated sigh as you picked up the phone again, “Why did you hang up on me?” He said in almost a tired and whiny tone in his voice. 

You sighed, “Because it’s 3 in the fucking morning, I’m sleeping and you are drunk.”

You heard a drunken chuckle through the phone which you already knew would contradict his next words, “I’m not drunk” which was followed by more chuckles, “Okay, maybe, maybe I’ve had a few beverages.”

Keep reading

Imagine admitting you want to marry Chris while you’re drunk.

You tumbled out of the cab and stumbled up the driveway of your boyfriend, Chris’ house. It was 2:18AM and you had just finished up at your co-worker’s bachelorette’s party, a party where you got ridiculously wasted. The original plan was for you to spend the night at your own apartment- as it was closer to the bar you were at- but after the third round of tequila shots, your urge to see the ever-so-handsome Captain America had you arriving at his doorstep instead.

You pulled out your keys and fumbled with the lock for a while before you finally opened the door. The noise drew the attention of Dodger who was now on alert and ready to pounce on the intruder. He barked once then stopped when he saw that it was you, he padded towards you and nudged his head into your hand when you reached down to pat him. You struggled to get your heels off and winced when your keys and box clutch clashed against the hardwood floor.

“Shhhh!” You told Dodger and pressed your finger to your lips, trying not to giggle. “The fossil is asleep upstairs, we can’t afford to wake him up.” Dodger tilted his head in confusion. “I could use some Fruit Loops.” You said to no one in particular and made your way to the kitchen. “Dodger, do-” You glanced back and realized the pup had made his way upstairs. “I’ll take that as a no.”

Chris was aroused from his sleep thanks to the noises you were making downstairs. He turned on his bedside lamp and glanced at the clock, wincing at the bright light; 2:23AM. He could hear Dodger scratching at his door but it was only when he heard a loud crash that he scrambled out of bed. He opened the door and Dodger barked at him before racing downstairs. Chris followed him and caught sight of your keys, heels, and clutch making a trail towards the kitchen; the only room with some of its lights on. He entered to find you trying to pick up the broken pieces of your favorite Captain America drinking glass.

“Dodger, stay.” Chris instructed him when he saw him start towards you; you looked up at them, eyes wide like a deer in the headlines. “Don’t move, Y/N.” Chris instructed you but you moved anyway. “Y/N, just- stay.” He spoke to you like he would to Dodger and you stilled. “What are you even doing here? I thought you said you were going home.”

“I thought you said this is my home.”

“I see you had a great time at Carly’s party.” He commented with a light chuckle and you nodded with a wide grin. “Hold up.” He said and reached for the light switch and turned on all the lights in the kitchen so he could have a better view of where not to step. “C'mere.”

“But you told me not to move,” you pouted like a child.

“God, you’re wasted.” He chuckled; he could smell the alcohol on you as he scooped you up off the ground. “Okay, lemme see.” He sat you down on the kitchen bench and took your hands in his so he could examined them for cuts. “Did you cut yourself?” He asked when he couldn’t find any. “Hey,” he cupped your face in his hands, “are you hurt?”

“I missed you tonight.” You told him and wrapped your arms around his neck; he chuckled softly and hugged you back, kissing the side of your head. “I wish you could’ve been there with me, it would have been a lot more fun.”

“I wish I could’ve been there with you too.” He agreed and pulled back, brushing your hair out of your face. “So I could’ve kept an eye on you and made sure you didn’t get totally hammered,” he chuckled. “I’m honestly surprised you found your way back here.”

“I can always find my way back to you, Cap.” You smiled and poked his cheek, drawing another chuckle from him. He always found drunk you incredibly amusing; it wasn’t a side he saw often as you weren’t one of those girls who partied all the time, but let’s just say that when he did- he made sure to enjoy every second of it. “I want some Fruit Loops, do you have any?” You tried to hop off the bench but he used his body to lock you into place. “What are you doing? I want Fruit Loops.”

“The last thing you need is sugar,” he said then chuckled when you pouted adorably. “Right now, you need Advil, lots of water, and- sleep. Stay up here, okay? I don’t need you cutting yourself.” You scrunched your nose and nodded. “I’m going to sweep up this mess first.”

He left you there and walked to the broom closet to grab the broom and dustpan. “Hey Chris?” He heard you call out to him from the kitchen. “Can I have my water in that glass I like?” You asked as he walked back in. “You know, that Captain America glass from Stan Lee’s team.”

“Yeah um-” He chuckled and lowered his gaze onto the said glass that was shattered on the ground. “I don’t think you can ever drink water from that glass again. Considering you broke said glass,” he reminded you and your face fell. “Exactly how much did you drink?” He squatted on the ground and swept up the glass that was fortunately empty when you dropped it.

“Lots,” you responded simply and he chuckled with a shake of his head. “Hey, where’s my phone?”

“You left it in the hallway,” he answered and you hopped off the counter. “Uh uh-” he held up a finger at you and you climbed back on the counter. “I’ll get it for you, just stay there please. You are in no state to be maneuvering around, I don’t need you to break anything else tonight.”

“What did I break?” You asked, completely forgetting about the glass you’d dropped earlier tonight.

“You are ridiculous,” he chuckled. “Just stay there.” He dumped the swept up shards into the bin then walked out into the hallway to get your clutch. He picked it up off the ground then fished out your phone and saw a text notification from your best friend, Luca, that was addressed to him.

“Hey, Chris.
Did she make it to yours okay?”

Chris responded with a quick “yeah, I’ve got her.” With your phone in his hand, he placed your clutch on the table then made his way back into the kitchen. “What are you doing?” He stood in the archway and chuckled at you; you had stripped off your red dress and was now sitting on the bench top in just your bra and panties. “Aren’t you just a sight for sore eyes?” He teased you as he walked over.

“Just out of curiosity.” You wrapped your arms around his neck as he pushed himself in between your legs and placing your phone down on the counter and his hands on your waist. “Are you going to marry me?” Your question surprised him, but made him smile nonetheless; your drunk mind was speaking for your sober heart.

“Are you going to remember this in the morning?” He asked and you thought about it for a while then nodded your head. “Yeah, I don’t think so.” He chuckled softly, rubbing small circles into your skin. “Well, since you won’t remember this- I might as well be honest with you.” You raised your eyebrows, waiting for his answer. “I am definitely going to marry you. I’ve been thinking about it since our first date, I’ve just- been waiting for the right time to ask. We’re both busy people, I want the proposal and the wedding at a time that works for the both of us.”

“Have you thought about how you’re going to propose?”

“I have,” he nodded, “numerous times. My favorite is still the cliché of taking you to a holiday cabin, cooking you dinner, and putting the ring in your dessert. I’m just a little afraid you might swallow the ring whole,” he joked and poked your side, causing you to giggle. “Why so curious? Are you afraid I wasn’t going to marry you?”

“Well- if I’m being completely honest, I guess I was a little afraid you didn’t want to marry me because I wasn’t sure about having kids.” His face fell slightly; he was a little upset with himself that he made you feel that way. “I know you like children and that they are an important part of your life plan, so yeah- I was a little afraid I wasn’t enough.”

“I’m sorry I made you feel that way,” he kissed your forehead. “You are enough, Y/N. You have no idea how much you mean to me,” he told you. “All I want is you, you are the most important part of my life plan.”

“And you’re the most important part of mine, which is why I’d gladly have children for you.” You told him for the first time in three years and he felt his heart skip a beat. “I tell people I don’t want kids because it seems scary, but with you- it doesn’t seem as scary.”

“This is by far my favorite drunk Y/N moment,” he told you with a wide smile. “Thank you for telling me that,” he gently pinched your chin between his thumb and index finger, brushing your pink lips with his thumb. “You won’t remember this but at least I know where you stand. Like you say, drunk minds speak for a sober heart.”

“I’ll remember this,” you nodded. “Give me a pen and I’ll write it on my hand.”

“No,” he chuckled with a shake of his head. “I would prefer you not to remember this ‘cause I would like the element of surprise when I propose to you. Now c'mon,” he lifted you off the bench and plopped you onto your feet. “Let’s get you an Advil and put you to bed.”

“Chris?” You grabbed his hand and pulled him back towards you when he tried to walk to the pantry to get the medicine box. “I think I’m in-love with you.” You told him and he nodded in acknowledgement, chuckling. “No, I’m serious.”

“We’ve been dating for three years and you just told me you’d have kids for me, I think I already know that.” He caressed your face and kissed your forehead. “Do you want to make any other shocking announcements? ‘Cause I really need to get you that Advil and put you to bed otherwise you’re going to be having one hell of a hangover tomorrow.”

“No,” you shook your head, letting go of his hand. “That’s the only one.” You said then grinned which made him laugh. “Can we have pancakes in the morning?” You asked as he grabbed a sachet of Advil from the box.

“You can have anything you want,” he nodded. “Take this,” he popped two pills out of the sachet and passed it to you. “Let me get you some water.” He grabbed a glass from the cabinet and filled it with the filter tap water. “Here,” he passed it to you with the instruction, “down the pills then drink it all. I don’t want to see a drop of it left in the glass.”

“You got it, Captain.” You saluted him then proceeded to do as he instructed.

“You’re going to have a lot of fun tomorrow morning,” he chuckled and kissed the top of your head.

What do we think, part 2?

Here’s my mini-series Masterlist.

anonymous asked:

Hi i really love your drunk!mc and not recognizing them hc :D is it okay if i request the same but with v and saeran ^u^

Here it is! I don’t know if it is as cute as the original post, tho… still, hope you like it! ^^

Drunk MC doesn’t recognize Saeran and V

Saeran

  • He hates when you go out like this, because he knows you’re getting home drunk.
  • And you’re a very unpredictable drunk. Sometimes you get really emotional and cry over things like that time you hurt a little boy who had a crush on you: “he wrote me this letter and I answered correcting all his misspells, why am I so bad, Saeran? Whyyy?”
  • Or sometimes you laugh at everything, like when you kept giggling and repeating the word “chocolate pudding” for half an hour.
  • And sometimes you get a little handsy and… hum, he has nothing to complain about that, actually.
  • “Can I help you?” he thought you were being sarcastic when he went to pick you up at your friend’s house, she said somebody looking for you was at the door.
  • “Well, can I help you? You look like shit!” “I’ll tell you what looks like shit, your move! Do you really think nagging will work here? Boy, bye.” What is this woman saying?
  • “Look, no time for jokes. Let’s just go, okay?” he was trying to be patient, but you ignoring him was something he couldn’t stand. It was nothing like you!
  • “Look, dude, as if your shitty move wasn’t bad enough, I already have a boyfriend, okay? And he will beat the shit out of you if he hears about this.” Oh… he knows what’s going on…
  • Yes, you not being able to recognize him happened once, it was pretty funny. You kept telling him to go away because you already had a boyfriend waiting for you at home… and you were already home. Shit, that was hilarious.
  • “Really? Is he that mad?” “Yep, so mad! He used to be madder when he looked like Kaneki from Tokyo Ghoul, but now… he’s more like Lindo from Dance with Devils, like, mad but cute mad, you know?” He… has no idea who are these people, and he didn’t know he was that mad…
  • “Oh, and… are you scared of him?”. You scoff “Nah, he’s cute. When he crosses his arms and frowns his eyebrows like this… freaking cute!”
  • “Men don’t like being called cute, isn’t he badass?” “Yep, but I like more when he’s cute! When he hugs me and calls me a dork, and tries to braid my hair when I pretend I’m sleeping…” Shit! You should not know about this! “Don’t tell him, but I’m thinking about inviting him to move in with me! Do you think it’s weird? I mean… the girl inviting the guy?
  • “N-no, it’s not weird at all…” okay, joke time is over, this is serious and he needs you sober as soon as possible. “So, hey! Uhm… I’m just your friend’s neighbor, turns out your boyfriend rang my bell thinking it was hers. He’s, uhm… waiting you downstairs.”
  • You said goodbye to your equally wasted friend and went downstairs, where he was waiting for you, trying to do a grumpy face. But it was hard, he really felt like smiling.
  • “Stop drinking that much! And… don’t tell deep weird things to strangers! And…” you interrupt him with a quick peck on his lips and a giggle.
  • “You’re so cute!” he feels his cheeks getting as red as his hair. “I… well, I… yeah, I… thanks.” He needs to get used being called cute if he’s going to be your roommate.

V

  • You two were at this art exhibition.
  • You two got separated for a while when he went to talk to the artist and you decided to see the paintings and sculptures.
  • When he found you again, you were staring at a painting, your mouth a little ajar. Wow, did it impress you that much? He really wanted to hear your thought about that.
  • “Hi, honey. Do you like this? We can buy it!” you let out a sigh that sounds like a groan and walks away. What… just happened?
  • “Honey? Did I say something wrong? You don’t like it?” “Yeah, I don’t like guys trying to be all sugar daddy over women, stay away from me, granny.” What? Sugar Daddy? Oh my god… is he really acting like this? But… he thought you liked his gifts…
  • Wait! No… it’s not this. He realizes that when he sees you taking a glass of that sweet drink that seemed harmless…
  • And the way your cheeks are flushed, he knows: these aren’t harmless when you have too much.
  • He watches as you stare at another painting. “Do you like this painting, miss?”
  • “Yes, it feels like it’s talking to me.” “Really? What is it saying?” “See the lines in the bottom? To me it’s totally about feeling a strong connection with someone, this brown lines are like a house, or maybe a body. And the blue spot is the soul inside the body, trying to be free.” Well, it was  open to interpretation, anyhow…
  • “Interesting…” “Yeah, it reminds me of my boyfriend, he’s the blue spot. I want the blue spot to be free and happy.” Oh, that was sweet…
  • He wanted to hug you, but he knew you wouldn’t recognize him, so he walked away a little and waited. Until you finally turned your head and faced him, this huge smile showing up in your face.
  • “Hey, honey! Anything you liked?” “Yeah, that one! Look, this shade of blue is the same of your hair!” “Oh, and that orange spot there is the same as your dress.” It was a different tone of orange, but you agreed, amazed.
  • “Now, let’s go, my orange spot, your blue spot needs to make sure you don’t have a hangover tomorrow.” “Why? I’m not drunk!” he chuckles, you are an adorable orange spot, aren’t you?
EXO’s Reaction to Thinking Their GF is Drunk When She Tries to Talk to Them

A/N: this request was SUPER in depth so i simplified it the best i could sorry if i didn’t write what you had pictured. ALSO i’m not able to use gifs with this one because my computer is hating me right now? so it’s just a text-based reaction for today ^^


Xiumin:

You had come home late from drinking with your friends, so Xiumin readily assumed that you would want to go to bed and sleep off the alcohol as soon as you got home.  It surprised him when you confessed you wanted to talk to him about serious matters, and he brushed it off as the alcohol talking.  “Let’s talk tomorrow when you’re sober, mkay? You need sleep,” he’d answer, despite your insistence that you had only had one drink.

Chen:

Chen was already half asleep in the bed when you came home. “Oh, hey,” he’d mumble out from his mound of blankets. You’d sit beside him and gently stroke his hair for a few minutes, before beginning to talk about a more serious topic. Chen would raise his eyebrows, wondering how many drinks you had had. However, when he noticed the serious look in your eyes he’d sit up, letting you talk to him about your worries.

Baekhyun:

Always a tease, Baekhyun would only chuckle when you tried to start a deep conversation. “Jagi, now’s not the time. Why don’t you drink some water and get to bed. I don’t want to deal with your hangover tomorrow,” he’d laugh, grabbing you some water and leading you to the bedroom.  Though you’d insist that you weren’t drunk, Baek would only nod. He’d assure you that you could discuss this tomorrow when all of the booze was out of your system.

Chanyeol:

At first, Chanyeol wouldn’t even realize you were trying to have a discussion with him–he was too busy making you a small snack to help lessen the alcohol’s effects. It wasn’t until you practically yelled his name that he’d stop, his eyes wide as he looked at you. When you patiently told him that you weren’t drunk, he’d smile in relief. “Oh! Well, in that case, what did you wanna talk about?” he’d ask, taking your hands in his.

Lay:

Your health’s very important to Lay, so he wouldn’t want to talk about serious conversations–he would rather get you some water, a snack, and then some sleep. No matter how many times you would say that you weren’t drunk, Lay would only smile gently and say, “Okay.” The next day he would remember what you had wanted to talk about, making sure to bring it up again. “I just didn’t want you to say something under the influence that you would regret,” he’d say when you asked him why he didn’t want to talk about it last night.

D.O:

D.O would be in the living room, silently reading a book when you walked in. He’d smile up at you before returning to his reading, his eyes still on the pages even when you sat down next to him. You’d say his name to get his attention before gently initiating a more serious conversation. D.O wouldn’t hesitate to listen, obviously realizing you weren’t drunk by how alert and serious you were being. 

Suho:

Though it was important to Suho that you got the right aftercare after drinking, he’d realize you were sober by the sharp look in your eyes. When you started talking to him about a serious topic, he would sit down on the couch with you and talk with you. Afterwards he’d still get you a snack and some water, and the next day he’d make sure to ask you if you remembered anything from last night, just in case you were drunk.

Kai:

It was obvious you weren’t completely blasted, however Kai still thought that you had had more than a few drinks despite your protests that you were, in fact, completely sober. “Okay, jagi. Why don’t we just get you to bed?” he’d chuckle as he led you upstairs. When he found out the next day that you really were sober, he’d feel bad about it and make sure to listen to whatever you had to say.

Sehun:

“Um,” is how Sehun would respond when you came home from drinking and immediately wanted to start talking about deep issues. “Why don’t we wait ‘til you’re not filled with booze,” he’d respond, gesturing for you to join him on the couch to watch TV. You could tell it’d be pointless to try to convince him of your sobriety. The next day when you brought it up again he’d happily talk to you about it, and you didn’t bother to point out that you were sober the night before.

Shots Out the Grammy

Prompt: In which Mr. Daveed Diggs takes you home after endless amounts of “shots out the grammy”.

(Yikes, was that cheesy?)

Pairing: Daveed Diggs x reader

Y/N: My longest fic yet. I gotta be honest, I didn’t know how to end this, and you can kinda tell the story got away from me about halfway through writing it. It’s not my best work, but I hope y’all still liked it! Let me know what ya think and keep those likes coming! “A Day Off” will be updated next!


-

You were in trouble.

You felt hot, and the room wouldn’t stop spinning.

You hear choruses of “Shots out the Grammy!” and you groan. That very phrase was the reason why you couldn’t raise your head from the cool surface of the bar.

Hamilton won a freaking Grammy.

The months of non-stop practicing and late night vocal sessions finally paid off. Hamilton was getting the recognition it deserved and you were proud to be part of the ensemble. The cast and crew dedicated tonight to celebrate since there were no shows the following day.

“No babe! No more drinking!”

From the corner of your eyes, you see Anthony wrestle a cocktail out of Jasmine’s hands. She lets out a noise of protest and flings herself against him to take back the glass.

“Give it back!” she yells, her voice slurred.

Anthony laughs and places the drink next to you. “I think you’re done for the night Jazz.” He grabs her arm and leads her to a seat beside you.

“Y/N?” Jasmine coos, “Hellooo, are you alive?” she pokes you on the shoulder.

“I don’t feel good.” you mumble.

“Damn it,” you hear Anthony curse.

“Both of you. Stay. Here.” He orders before dashing off.

Jasmine, upon realizing that Anthony has left her cocktail unprotected, plucks the drink from the counter and takes a large sip. “Want some?” she asks, completely oblivious to your state.

You merely groan in response.

Suddenly, you felt a hand on your shoulder.

“Y/N, are you okay?”

Oh great.

Daveed Diggs.

You’ve harbored a huge a crush on the talented rapper the minute you saw him. You were always too shy to approach him, but ever since you both discovered that you lived in the same apartment building, the two of you began to carpool together to work. Your friendship blossomed from the conversations you would have with him while he maneuvered through New York City traffic. The next thing you knew, he would come over after the show and the two of you would bake cupcakes or play board games while discussing the night’s performance. It was no surprise that your feelings towards him grew stronger the more comfortable you got with him.

You somehow always found yourself thinking about him. You knew you were in deep when you found yourself thinking how nice it would be if Daveed was with you while you were trying out an ice cream shop that opened near the theater. He would like the strawberry sorbet.

But there was no way in hell you’d do anything about it. Not when he was way out of your league. And definitely not when he was one of your best friends and coworkers. You didn’t want to risk ruining everything.

“Y/N?” Daveed’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts. “Time to go home?” he asks, moving his hand to the middle of your back.

“Yes please,” you mutter against the counter.

Jasmine giggles and leans forward to whisper something in your ear. But before she could, a hand covers her mouth.

“Jazz, please,” Anthony begs, exasperated, but had a smirk plastered on his face. “Let them be.”

Before she could protest, he grabs her hand and leads her away from the two of you.


You sit up and watch as she turns back and yells, “Be safe you two!”

“That… was weird.” You mumble before turning to Daveed, who looked embarrassed.

“Yeah, definitely.” He answers after a pregnant pause.

You didn’t get to question his behavior because a wave of nausea washes over you. You groan and rest your chin against your hand. “I blame this on you,” you say.

Daveed cocks his eyebrow. “Excuse me?” he rebuffs, then signals the bartender for a bottle of water.

“Shots out the Grammy!” you sang, pretending to hand him a Grammy full of lord-knows-what.

He throws his head back and laughs. “Not my fault you can’t hold your liquor,” he teases, poking you on your side. “Now drink up, or you’ll hate yourself in the morning.”

He pushes the bottle of water towards you.


You chug the water down, praying that it was enough to make your hangover tomorrow more tolerable. Then you sigh and stand, closing your eyes momentarily as you felt the ground tilt. “Oh god,” you murmur.

Daveed shakes his head. He reaches out and grabs your hand. “Let’s go.”

He intertwines your fingers with his, and you felt your breath hitch. You stare at your joined hands as he leads you out of the party. Every once and while the two of you were stopped by people, and you could’ve sworn they were all giving you odd looks. But you brush it off and follow Daveed outside.

He lets go of your hand and fishes his phone out from his pocket. You stay silent, watching as he tapped on the screen. After a few minutes, he places the phone back in his pocket.

“The Uber should be here soon,” he says, turning towards you. “How are you feeling?”

“Cold,” you say as a gust of the cool wind makes you shiver.

“Come here,” he murmurs, opening his arms wide.

You step into his embrace. You squeeze him tight, and his arms come down around you like a blanket. You smile against his chest, enjoying the embrace.

“What would you do without me?” he quips.

You look up at him and stick your tongue out. “I was going to say thank you, but now I’m not so sure anymore.”

“Even tipsy, I see that you’re still as annoying as ever.” Daveed coos, cupping your face.

You scrunch your nose in response.

He chuckles and then without warning, places a soft kiss on your lips.

You gasp, and his eyes widen once he realized what he’s done.

He immediately lets go of you and steps back. “I-I’m so sorry. That was uncalled for,” he stutters.

“Daveed -” before you can say anything else, a honk signals the arrival of your Uber.

“Come on,” he says, not making any eye contact with you.  

You follow him, heart and mind racing. What just happened?

He opens the door for you, and you climb in. However, instead of joining you, he sits in the front seat.

You instantly become confused. He kisses you and then turns around and ignores you? Is that how it’s going to be?

The ride back to the apartment was silent, and you spend the whole time fuming. Did he regret it? Did he realize that he could do much better than a silly girl like you?

The minute the Uber pulls up to the building, you bolt out of the car.

“Y/N!”

You ignore Daveed and punch in the code for the apartment complex. The door unlocks and you make a bee-line to the elevators.

“Come on, come on,” you urged, watching as the elevator numbers descended. You rush in once the doors open, pushing the number for your floor.

“I said I was sorry!” Daveed’s fingers catch the elevator door before they close.  

“Daveed,” you warn, furiously mashing the ‘close doors’ button.

“I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if you think that I was taking advantage of you,” he whispers.

You freeze. “What?”

Daveed sighs. “I don’t want you to think I kissed you because I wanted to take advantage of you,” he repeats.

You heart skips a beat. “Then what do you want me to think?”

He pauses. “That I kissed you because I like you,” he says slowly.

Your heart soars.

“You idiot,” you mumble. You grab his tie and pull him in, ignoring his surprised yelp. You wrap your arms around him and pull him down for a kiss.

Shocked, he doesn’t respond instantly. He recovers, and then his arms snake around your waist and draws you in close. His teeth nip against your bottom lip and he pulls back. He looks down at you, as if committing the very sight of you in his arms to memory, and then gives you another quick kiss.

“I like you too,” you finally say, giving him a squeeze.

The elevator dings, signaling the arrival to your floor. You step away from him and take his hand. “I think we have a lot to talk about,” you whisper, tugging him towards your apartment.

Daveed nods. “I think so too.”

He pauses, then pulls out his phone from his pocket after feeling it vibrate. He lets out a sheepish laugh and shows you his messages.


One from Jasmine.

PLEASE MAKE BEAUTIFUL BABIES. THEY WOULD HAVE ANGELIC VOICES.

And another from Anthony.

I’m sorry.

Karaoke Night

Daveed Diggs x Reader, Hamilcast!

Author: Lil Lambie

Words: 2795

Warnings: Alcohol, implied smut, kissing

Request: (Summarized) @sunshinelafayette Imagine where reader is a stagehand, the hamilcast invites reader out for a drink and reader gets really drunk and opens up and then Daveed takes them home and a drunk confession that they love Daveed?

A/N: This is defintely longer than I’m used to, but I did what I could! This took a long time to write, and I don’t know if I’ll get another imagine out tonight. Because I feel like it is three imagines lol. But if I do, it will probably be a shorter one. But, we will see. Enjoy!


Pippa was singing her last lines on stage. The show was drawing to a close. The rest of the cast were huddled against the curtain watching her deliver them so beautifully. A roar of applause erupted and the cast ran to bow on the stage.

“Spotlight on Lin,” you said to the lights manager. “fade into all backlights.” The crewmember moved their fingers over the keyboard and you watched closely.

You were a stagehand, but not the stage manager as you wish you were. No one really was except for Lin. You just did more than was in your job description. You had watched Hamilton dozens of times now. It never failed to make you cry. You weren’t one for conversation backstage, you gave your orders and did your job.

A few minutes later, after everyone had bowed, the cast returned glowing with sweat and joy. “Another great show, guys!” Lin shouted. Everyone congratulated each other.

“We should celebrate!” Anthony shouted.

“We still got a couple dozen shows to go before our season is over.” Lin said.

“Who cares?” John laughed, throwing his hand on Lin’s back. “It’s Friday night, it was a great show. No better excuse to go have karaoke night at a bar!”

“Yeah!” someone shouted and soon everyone joined in

Lin laughed and smiled. “Okay, we will go in an hour.”

Everyone cheered.

You wandered away from the circle of the cast, back over to your supply room. Daveed caught you when he was slipping off his magenta jacket. “Hey, (Y/N), you coming?”

“Uh, what?” you laughed nervously.

“You know what I said! I said are you coming to karaoke night at the bar with us tonight?”

“Umm…I’m not much of a singer. That’s kind of why I’m a stagehand.”

“Oh, I doubt that so much.” he laughed. “I have seen you backstage, singing along. I’ve seen you from the stage and from backstage. You have a great voice and I don’t get why you don’t perform. You could be a backup dancer at least! You deserve so much more, (Y/N)!”

“Oh, Daveed, really I’m not…” you blushed. “I have stagefright. I like helping with stuff backstage, so I’m fine not singing.”

“Fine.” he leaned on his chair. You started to walk away. “But, just come to the bar tonight. We are going to have loads of fun. All of the cast is going to be there. You don’t have to sing if you don’t want to. It’s just, everyone is celebrating. I don’t want you to be left out.” Daveed smiled.

“Fine.” you said blandly, trying to hide your excitement.

“Fine.” Daveed laughed, imitating you with a voice much higher than your own.

You laughed and walked away.

++++++

The bar was packed for a Wednesday night. All of the cast and most of the crew was there. The crew hung by at their own table. One of your friends on the crew invited you over. You went to sit down with them.

A hand touched yours, and gently pulled you away. A smooth chaste voice singing, “No, no, no,” he sang melodically. “you said you were going to have drinks with the cast, and you are.”

You waved helplessly to your friend and let Daveed take you away. The main cast was circled around a large table. Lin and Anthony walked back over with shots of tequila in their hands. Lin smirked smugly at you and slid one over to you.

“I thought we were just having beer, not hard liquor.” you said to Daveed as you sat down next to him.

“That wouldn’t be any fun.” he laughed, taking his shot and slamming it triumphantly on the table. Everyone cheered.

“Hey, (Y/N)!” Lin shouted. “It’s your turn!” Everyone else had already taken their shots.

“No, I really think I’ll just have a beer.”

“Come on!” someone yelled.

They all began chanting your name. “(Y/N)! (Y/N)! (Y/N)! (Y/N)! (Y/N)! Do it! Do it! Do it!”

Daveed chanted, smiling smugly at you. “(Y/N)!” he chanted. “Do it! Do it! Do it and you’re cool!” he teased.

You rolled your eyes and grabbed the shot. You threw it down. You coughed. You had never had hard liquor before. You weren’t really one for alcohol. If you did have any, it would be a cold beer in your apartment alone watching re-runs of your favorite shows. The tequila burned your throat and blazed your throat as it slid down. It was sharp, but it made you feel alive.

“Yeah!” Everyone cheered.

“You are pretty cool, (Y/N).” Daveed teased. You rolled your eyes at him.

Lin and a few other guys returned with beer glasses for everyone. You stared at it for a moment. Everyone took a swing. You finally followed suit.

“Whoa! Slow down, (Y/N)!” Pippa laughed. “You are going to get wasted if you keep drinking like that!”

“Keep ‘em coming!” you shouted to Lin. You had carelessly drank three glasses full already. You chugged the next one he handed you.

“Wow!” he laughed.

You slammed it down on the table and cried out. “Hell yeah! Let’s do this!”

The group laughed and Daveed smiled at you. “Woohoo!” they cheered. “I like this side of you.” Daveed smirked.

You ignored him and ran up to the microphone. No one was really in the mood to sing after the long show. There were a bunch of drunk hacks you tried to sing. One got up and sang “My Heart Will Go On,” who you practically booed off stage. Daveed had laughed and called you a tough critic.

You told the DJ your request.

The lights focused on you. Daveed smiled at you. “Hey! Hey! Hey!” you sang.

Daveed smiled wide when he realized what you were singing. Everyone directed their attention to you. You started singing outrageously. “Helpless! Looking into your eyes and the sky’s the limit I’m helpless! Down for the count, I’m drownin’ in ‘em!”

You breezed through the song. “Then you walked in and mY HEART WENT BOOOOM!” you made an explosion sound and made gestures around your chest. Daveed laughed hysterically, throwing his head back. You belted the rest of the song and the cast and crew cheered you on.

Daveed stood up and applauded, laughing at you. He even did Lin’s part in the song. “Heeelplessss!” you belted out the last word. You transitioned into Satisfied and Daveed harmonized with you.

Daveed ended up joining you and you sang duets of hits from Hamilton, other broadway musicals and some classic rock songs, banging your head to it. You rapped with Daveed on “Guns and Ships.” Lin had pulled out his phone and was recording all of this.

He stole the microphone from your hand and started rapping rapidly, while bouncing around, throwing around his hands. You stood next to him, still rapping but not as fast. You were in awe of your few. The lights highlighted the sweat on Daveed’s dark face and hair. His curly hair bounced around. He broke out in a dance moves, grinding to a classic rock song he requested.

After both of you were exhausted, and you were completely hammered you wandered back to the table. Daveed hand his steady hand on your shoulder, guiding you back. You slumped in the chair.

Everyone started to say their goodbyes and finished up their conversations. Getting ready to go home. “DaaaVEEED!” you screamed.

Daveed turned around laughing as he was talking to Jonathan. “What?”

“G-g-get me another beeeer. PleeEASE!”

“No, no, no,” he laughed, singing again in his dark velvet voice. It made you feel some special inside. He stood you up and leaned you against him. You fell into his chest, utterly wasted. “You’ve had enough beers tonight.” he laughed. “And your lifetime.”

“You gonna get home safe, (Y/N)?” Pippa smiled concerned at you.

“Yeah…I’ll just Uber or catch a bus…or a plane.” you chuckled.

Pippa’s smile faltered. “Umm…”

“Don’t worry about it, Pippa. I’ll take her home.”

“Thanks, Daveed. See ya!”

“See ya!”

They started clearing out of the bar. “Shall we go, (Y/N)?” Daveed laughed.

“Wha-where?”

“Let’s go.” He threw an arm around your shoulder and pulled you tight to his chest as he walked you to his car. He strapped you in the front seat and handed you a water. “You are going to have a killer hangover tomorrow, (Y/N).” he said, driving towards your apartment.

Daveed tried to make conversation, but your words slurred and your eyes kept falling. The world was spinning and everything was bright, but you felt like you were on cloud nine inside. You were with Daveed. He looked so perfect. The pursed focused look on his face as he ran through traffic lights. His hands loose on the steering wheel. He looked over at you occassionally asking if you were okay. You never really gave him a full answer.

“We’re here!” Daveed shouted.

“Shhhhh! It’s a library!” you whispered.

Daveed chuckled. “Let’s get you inside.”

He parked and came around to your door. He unbuckled you and pulled you out. You leaned against him. He carried you up the stairs to your apartment, you laid your head against his chest. Your eyes falling.

“This is it.” Daveed said, setting you back on your feet.

You tried to reach back for his neck when he put you down, like a child reaching for its mother. “T-T-Thanks, verry much, Daveeed!”

“Shh,  you’re welcome.” he laughed. “You going to get to bed fine?”

“Oh, yeah, I’m just gonna open the door and fall right on the floor and go to sleeeeep.”

“Let me help you inside.” he smiled.

He grabbed your keys from your pocket and fiddled with them in the lock. You leaned against the door. “Ya know what, Daveeeed?” you chuckled. “Ya are soooo cute! And hot. Ohmygod are you hot. The sun don’t got nothing on you! You are like a teddy bear made of chocolate,” you snorted, “you are so cute, smart, and funny. And you give me cuddles when I want them!”

“We haven’t cuddled.” Daveed laughed.

“Whaaa? I thought we had! Well, I want to hug my chocolate teddy bear. Because you are one! I’ve always really had a cruuush on you, Daveeed. You are so amazing and I’m like falling for you. I know I’m just a dumb stagehand, buuuuuut, I love you and your face and your lips and your bodddy, and your vooooice, oh its like chocolate. But most of all I love, yooooou…” you danced your fingers on his chest.

He was smiling wildly at you. You fell into him, and the door pushed open. He held your arms and looked down at you smiling. “(Y/N), you are hammered!” he laughed.

“I waaaaant you, Daveeeed, I haven’t said it because I didn’t want you to reject me. I like you, like, like like likeeee, like you.”

You pushed against him to get on your toes. To reach his lips. He moved closer to you.

Then your head fell limp to his chest. You began snoring.

Daveed laughed and picked you up in his arms, and cradled you. He laid you down on the couch and threw a blanket over you. He closed and locked the door. He pulled your shoes off and tucked you in.

He sighed at the door, then looked back at you. Your head was half off the sofa, your hair hanging in front of your face, you were drooling. He laughed and smiled at you.

He grabbed a blanket for himself and sat against the sofa. His head by your feet and closed his eyes.

+++++

“OH MY GOD!” you screamed. You threw the blanket off and fell backwards off the couch.

Daveed woke up and ran to help you.

“Hey! Heyyy, it’s okay, sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” he helped you sit back down and ran to your kitchen to get you a glass of water.

“Oww.” you moaned. “My head is tHRoBing!”

“Well, you got wasted and you just fell on hardwood floor.”

“Wait, what?”

“You don’t remember, do you?”

“No. I don’t. Why was I drunk?”

Daveed laughed, amused. “After the show yesterday, we all went out for a drink at a karaoke bar. You drank a ton of beers and shots of tequila. You booed people off stage and said the randomest and most outlandish things. Then you went up and started singing a bunch of Hamilton songs. You owned the stage like you were Beyonce!

“Oh my goddd…” you groaned, covering your face in shame. “I’m so embarrassed.”

“Well, it gets better.” he smiled. “I went up and we did duets. We sang broadway and classic rock songs. After awhile you were speaking jibberish and didn’t really know what was going on. You were super drunk and we were all leaving, so I took you home. I carried you up your stairs…and you started saying somethings.”

“What did I say?” you ask nervously.

“You started talking about me. What you thought of me. You called me a chocolate teddy bear,” he giggled, “along with cute, funny, smart, hot…You told me I was hotter than the sun. Then you said, that you um, had a crush on me. You said you loved me. We almost kissed…buut, then you passed out and I brought you inside. I didn’t want to leave you alone, so I just slept on the floor.”

“Oh my god, Daveed, I am so sorry! I don’t know what,” you started talking but your temple throbbed. You closed your eyes for a moment. “I’m so sorry you had to see that.”

“No, don’t be. I loved singing with you. You were really light on your feet. You loosened up. You sang amazingly! You rapped Guns and Ships with me. I loved last night, (Y/N). Don’t say sorry to me, say sorry to yourself for the horrible hangover you have right now.”

“You aren’t mad?” you said.

“No, why would I be?”

“I just thought, that you would think I was a burden last night or something. Or get tired of me in general. That after all that I-uh in a humiliating fashion said, you would reject me or leave me or ignore me or something…But you didn’t.”

“Of course not!” he shouted. You winced. He frowned. “Sorry,” his voice softened. “(Y/N), I invited you, took you home, and stayed with you, because I care about you. I didn’t want anything to happen and I wanted to make sure that you were safe and got home okay. I could have just left you last night and forgot about everything that had happened, and you would never know, but I didn’t want that. I waited to see what you decided and what you felt. It wouldn’t be fair to you to do that. Plus, I didn’t want to leave. I wanted to stay with you…and see where this goes.”

“Daveed…” you whispered.

He grabbed you gently and kissed your lips. His touch was soft and warm. His hands were smooth and gentle, holding your hands. You closed your eyes and melted into the kiss. He tasted like chocolate. But not in the actual sense of the world. Kissing him was the sensation of chocolate. That perfect, relaxing, and amazing feeling. He wrapped his arms around you, and pushed your hair back.

You fell on the couch and pulled away, when the world started spinning again. “No, I can’t do this right now. I’m sorry.”

“Oh.” Daveed got up to leave.

“No! Not like that! Please stay!”

“Okay…” He sat down next to you.

“I’m just too tired right now, to kiss you. But I love it. I love you.”

“I love you too.” Daveed stole a kiss and leaned in.

He pulled away slyly. “It was the last one I promise.”

You smiled and laid back down and closed your eyes. “Can you stay with me?” you asked softly.

“Yeah.” he whispered.

He leaned against the sofa with you. You reached your hand to him and he held it. “With me.” you said.

“Yeah.” he smiled.

He still held your hand as he laid next to you, and let his arm fall over your stomach as you held hands. You turned over and burrowed your head in his chest. He smiled and pulled the blanket over you. He kissed your forehead.

Home wasn’t a place that you lived.

You had searched for satisfaction in yourself. You didn’t find any pure joy or enjoyment. You didn’t love anything. You hadn’t had the chance to.

Home is a place you find.

You found it in his arms.

Zhang Yixing//Oh God


Prompt:
You’re a teacher filling in for another class, and having trouble from one of the students. In an attempt to sort it out, you discover that you’re a lot more friendly with his parent than you originally thought.
Scenario: Fluff, smut mention
Word count: 3,837

The walk of shame had actually been more of a parade of triumph this morning, if you were going to be completely honest.
He’d been tall, handsome, muscular and well, you could say he was somewhat talented. You’d been stunned waking up next to him after your slightly drunken one night stand and it was revealed to your sober eyes that he was still as good looking this morning as he was the night before. You’d sneaked out of his room at 7am, down the dark hallway and out of the apartment quietly - as proud of yourself as you were for picking up such a gorgeous man, you weren’t up for the sheer embarrassment that would come with having to part if you’d woken him up too. So you’d bolted out as quickly as possible, texting your best friend and coworker Rani to meet you at the closest coffee house.

So you sat, ignoring the uncomfortable ache in the pit of your stomach - God, you were having flashbacks of his wonderful pelvis in action - and sipped on your coffee, trying to work out what details you’d give to explain your disappearance the night before. Rani spotted you immediately, short dyed blonde hair swinging as she plonked herself down across from you.
“You got laid!” She squealed, and you had to shush her as the other patrons were giving you a disapproving look. “You got laid!” She repeated, quieter, and you rolled your eyes.
“Yeah.”
“So - good or bad?” Her eyes were sparkling with anticipation, “Come on, we need to make this quick, I have an entire class’ homework to mark by tomorrow and I need to facetime my Naniji because it’s her birthday, although God knows what she’ll say about my hair. She may cry.” You took a deep breath in and grinned at your friend’s rambling.
“Okay, okay. So it was really good.” You relented, and she squealed again. “So he spoke Korean, but I’m pretty sure he’s Chinese because on certain words he’d sometimes have an accent.”
“Ooooh.” Rani grinned, and you flicked her forehead from across the table.
“Oooh indeed, because he was the most perfect specimen that’s ever been within a hundred yards of me.”
“Do tell.”
“He was a good height.” You tilted your head, thinking, “He was like…lean but completely ripped. Full on six pack of abs. He had the best hair too, it was all slick and dark and there was this one tendril that kept falling into his eyes and - oh, his eyes.” You could see Rani practically living for this. “They were so intense. He kept doing this thing where he’d look up from under his lashes and slow blink and it was amazing. Like, the biggest turn on.”
“God, I’m so single.” Rani sighed, and you grinned at her again,
“Shall I continue?”
“Yes. Please. He sounds like a slice of heaven.” She leaned her head on the table, looking up at you. “How was he?” Your cheeks burned slightly, but you told her anyway.
“Amazing. Like, best I’ve ever had. I think he must be a dancer or something, because those hips - umph, I can’t even think about it.”
“What kind was it?” She propped her chin on her hand, henna poking out from her sleeve and travelling down her fingers. “Like, slow and sweet or…sexy-time sexy time?”
“Dude, honestly - both.” You warmed your hands on the coffee cup, sighing deeply. “I’m ruined. How the hell am I ever going to drunkenly phone my ex and sleep with him again after this? I don’t think seven minutes in the back of his car is going to cut it after last night’s suitor.”
“Ugh, when was the last time you phoned your ex?”
“Ages ago, don’t worry. My drunk brain seems to have forgotten him.” You giggled, and she looked relieved.
“Thank God.” You swirled the coffee round with your pinkie.
“I didn’t leave my number or anything, I just ran. I just wanted to leave the perfect one night stand the way it was, no disappointment or embarrassment.”
“For once, I’m going to disagree here.” Rani shook her head. “You find a man that can move his hips like that, looks that good and is caring and hot at the same time during sex? You put a ring on it, damn.
“I don’t even know his name.” Her phone buzzed on the table then, and she jumped up.
“Oh God, it’s my Naniji. I need to take this -” She weaved her way through the chairs of the coffeehouse, and you could hear babbled Hindi flowing from her mouth like water in a creek. You shook your head at her hectic personality and life, getting up, too. You needed to finish marking your own class’ reading homework before tomorrow, and frankly, your hangover was not being kind either.

Monday was slightly more hectic than usual, as another class’ teacher was ill, making you cover for her when you should have been having a break, as your class was on a school trip for the next few days. But no, you were stuck covering for the youngest and most boisterous class in the school, so all you expected was constant crazy, non-stop action.
One particular group of 5 year olds, lead by a surprisingly quiet, small boy, kept up the highest energy, making sure you were never off your feet - Zhang Baozhi was like a quiet storm. He had taken a notion in the last few days to constantly convince other kids to do stupid shit, but never take part so as not to get into trouble. You started to miss the 10 year olds you usually taught as you were cleaning paint off the face of the quiet leader of the class that his friends had covered him in.
“Come on Changyun, really, settle down.” You scolded the main perpetrator, but the kid shook his head violently.
“Baozhi told me to!” You looked to the boy whose nose you were wiping sunset orange from delicately, his eyes blinking at you slowly.
“Is that true?” You asked him, your tone serious as you crouched down to meet his eyes. He blinked again, seeming indifferent. “You don’t want to get your friends in trouble, do you?” He sighed, an awfully mature sound coming from this three-and-a-half foot tall child.
“I told him to.”
“See!” Changyun stuck his tongue out at you, then grinned at his friend before hopping back to his seat. You grasped Baozhi under his arms and sat him up on your desk to be able to clean him up without crouching down.
“You can’t keep telling your friends to do these silly things.” You said, your tone soft - not because you thought he was sensitive, but because you knew there was no need for The Teacher Voice, as he would respond the same either way. “We don’t get our friends into trouble, alright?” He shrugged, again, indifferent, and you shook your head slightly, perplexed by the kid. You finished mopping up the hues of blue and pink from his little face and pulled him down from your desk, patting his back to let him know he was free to go back to his seat.

The next day, Baozhi caused much more ruckus with his influence on the other kids, stressing you out to no end. He started a food fight at break time by nudging Jeonghyun to throw his yogurt at Minwon, which took your proper, strict Teacher Voice to defuse that situation. Then, he convinced Eunhye and Dahyoon that it would be fun to braid their hair together, which got horrifically tangled and caused a lot of tears, making you painstakingly sit and part their hair for a half hour while the other kids drew their mother’s day cards. By eleven, he had started a game of whispers round the room, ending with Moonbin shouting at the top of his lungs a Chinese swear - which you only knew due to your old college roommate Biyu, who was an exchange student from Beijing. The last straw was when every kid in the small class other than Baozhi dunked their hands into the class fish tank to try and catch one. Thankfully, you’d managed to stop that before any fishes were harmed, but you decided enough was enough. You had to find out why Baozhi was acting out this way - you’d covered this class before, and he’d never given you a problem then - and so you pulled him aside an hour before school ended to ask him who collected him at the end of the day.
“I get the school bus.” He’d said, and you pursed your lips. You’d just need to phone his parents and ask them if they could come and pick him up so that you could speak to them personally about him. And so, when the kids were taken by the P.E. teacher to run around in the school gym for the last part of the day, you sat in the now-quiet class and dialed up the number you’d found in the office. It almost rang out, but then it was answered by a worried voice.
“Hello?”
“Hi there, am I speaking to the parent or carer of Zhang Baozhi?” You confirmed, tapping a pen against your notebook with all of the small child’s crimes written down.
“Yes, this is his father speaking, why? Is he alright? Why is his school calling me?”
“It’s nothing to worry about, Mr Zhang, I assure you, Baozhi is physically perfect - I’m just calling as his behavior has been slightly, um…” You sucked in at your teeth, “…questionable, these past few days. I was just wondering if there’s any way you could drop by to talk and try to work this out.” There was only silence on the other end of the line for a few seconds, and you noticed the similarity between the father and son with their quiet pauses.
“I can’t come by today, but if he stays a half hour later tomorrow after school then I can pick him up and talk then.” You found yourself doodling on the page.
“That sounds good. I can put him in with the after school club in the next classroom, and we can talk while he plays.” You blew air up into the loose strands of your hair, continuing, “Does that work for you?”
“Yes, that’s fine.” You nodded as though he could see you. “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow then, Miss.”

3 o’clock rolled round the next day, and you sent Baozhi into the after school club that Rani was taking charge of, hastily cleaning up the classroom of the mess that the kids had left. You,yourself, were quite the sight to behold. At the beginning of the day, you’d been downright adorable - your hair sat perfectly, your makeup was blended and cute, you had on a spotless striped blouse tucked into a black skirt, black tights, little heeled boots.
And by the end of the day, by now, you had green and orange paint spattered across your face like alien freckles, you’d had to roll up the sleeves on your shirt, your skirt was back-to-front, your tights had been ripped at both knees where you had to kneel down to help coax a child out from under the slide in the playground. Your hair was sad and out of place, strands escaping haphazardly, and you’d cast your heels aside for some battered sneakers, but it didn’t matter what you looked like, you thought pathetically, it was just a Bhaozi’s dad. It didn’t matter because all that did matter was making sure he was alright and fixing what wasn’t. So you dashed around, taking paint pots to the sink in the corner and wiping crumbs off of desks when you heard a throat clearing from the doorway. You whipped around, and your eyes widened considerably.
Imagine your surprise when your one-night stand from the weekend was standing in the door, tall and handsome, looking around the classroom curiously, having not lain eyes on you yet. He was dressed almost identically to the way he was in the bar on Saturday - light washed jeans, black fitted tee, sneakers.
“What are you doing here?” You squeaked out, and he let his slow eyes land on you. You watched as his expression mirrored yours, and his mouth dropped open.
“It’s - you - you work here?” He stammered, and you straightened up a little. “You just left…” You could feel your cheeks heating up, especially when you looked down and caught sight of the ladders in your tights. When you looked back up at him, you could feel his discomfort, as though he was trying to figure out an explanation to his appearance. You got impatient then, embarrassed,
“Could you please - can we do this later? I have a meeting scheduled with a kid’s parent right now so could you…” You trailed off as you studied his face, and it dawned on you. The slow blink, the almost indifferent attitude - it was mirrored right here. “Oh my God.” He took a few steps inside the classroom, shutting the door.
“You called about Baozhi.” He said, his voice quiet, and you felt your face drain, bracing yourself against your desk. Rani would have a field day with this one.
“I…” He was looking at you as if bracing your reaction. The thoughts were whirling almost violently in your head, especially when you caught sight of a ring on his finger. “You…oh my God.”
“I know this isn’t ideal-” He started, but you stood up straight, shaking your head violently to cut him off.
“Ideal? This is the worst thing,” His face fell completely, and you felt disgust at yourself and at him overwhelm you. “You have a child - you’re the father of a student I teach -”
“If you-”
“No!” Teacher Voice was on, and he stood stock still. “So you’re what married with a child and you take me home? Are you nuts? Do I - do I look like a home wrecker? I’m a freaking primary school teacher-”
“I’m not married.” He cut you off quietly, and you froze, looking at him suspiciously.
“You have a child and a ring.” You pointed out, your frantic tone dying down. He looked down at his hand and realisation dawned on his features.
“This is actually a family ring. My father gave me it. It’s not a romantic thing.” He twirled it on his finger, turning it and extending it to you so that you could see the Chinese characters spelling out Zhang on the underside.
“Oh.” You leaned back against the desk. “So…you didn’t cheat on anybody with me?” He nose wrinkled slightly and he shook his head determinedly.
“Definitely not. There’s nobody to cheat on.” Another thought burned in your mind and you cringed.
”You better not tell me that Baozhi was home when I…when we…” You shuddered at the unprofessionalism of it all, saying a silent prayer.
”No! God, no, he was staying at Changyun’s house at the weekend.” His face was pale, “I wouldn’t leave my 5 year old son home alone while I went to the bar and took someone home.”
“Alright then.” You muttered.It was quiet then, awkward. You stared at his sneakers, clean white, apart from a scribble in biro pen on the side, which you assumed was down to the child in question. He cleared his throat.
“Uh, so, what’s the matter with Baozhi?” You almost jumped to attention.
“Oh, right!” You gestured for him to follow you round the classroom as you explained all of his child’s misdemeanors and blame ridden leadership of the class. As the final piece of evidence you whirled round to face - oh God, you didn’t know anything other than his name was Zhang Something and that he had rock hard abs under that tee and a pelvis that moved like - Jesus, that was enough, stop thinking -
“This is the last thing he managed to convince the kids to do,” You said, staring him down. He stared right back, occasionally blinking.
“What?” You scrunched your nose.
“Paint,” You clarified, the colours across your face moving as your nose did. He let a small smile creep onto his face, and you stepped back. “So I want to figure out why he’s acting like this. I’ve taught him before and he was a sweet kid. Now he’s like a little dictator. I mean, he was supposed to be writing out his mother’s day card, and all of a sudden, I hear this whisper going round the room, and bam, there it is. Chinese for ‘fuck’.” Zhang’s eyes narrow slightly.
“Wait, what did you say?”
“Chinese for ‘fuck.’”
“No, before that.” You raised an eyebrow at his prying for detail.
“He was supposed to be writing out his mother’s day card?” And it was then that he groaned and stepped back, bumping into a sitting position on a desk.
“What does that have to do with it?” You didn’t get it.
“Baozhi isn’t mine by blood,” He explained, his voice slightly thick, “I took him in as a baby…he never knew his mother, and he doesn’t have anyone like a mother to him.” Your hands flew to your mouth realising that you’d been asking a motherless child to write a card explaining how much he loved his mother.
“Oh my God. Oh my God, I’m the worst.” You whispered, “I should have made sure before I set them the task - oh my God. I can’t believe I did that.”
“No, it’s an easy mistake to make.” He tried to clear it up but you were on full guilt mode.
“Jesus, I might as well have just asked him to bring her into school, oh my God I’m an idiot.”
“Hey, no, it’s fine, I’ll talk to him.” He stood up, his hands on your shoulders, and you sighed heavily.
“I’m so sorry.”
“It’s really alright.” He then let out a huff of breath, letting his hands drop. “I should’ve have noticed Mother’s day was coming up. I usually let the teacher know - Miss Banner knew already, that’s why I didn’t this year.”
“I’m just covering this class right now.” You let him know, “Just so you don’t need to worry about Baozhi being left with me at all times.” Your joke was feeble and he shook his head.
“I’m really sorry that you’ve had to deal with…” He gestured to the rips in your tights, your face splattered with paint and then around the messy classroom. “…all of this. When he gets upset he acts out.” It was then that your door opened, and Rani, panting, poked her head in.
“(Y/N), seriously, I really need you to come in and help me out, one of my kids has her head stuck inside a drawer and -” She noticed Baozhi’s dad then, and her eyes widened at his …well, his everything. You gave her a look, saying through gritted teeth,
“I’ll be there in a minute.” She ducked out the room, and you heard your name repeated from behind you. You turned to look at -
“Yixing.” He said, a little crooked smile tugging at his lips. “Since we didn’t get to, um…introduce ourselves properly on Saturday.” You found your cheeks heating up.
“That’s…a really nice name.” You said, lamely, and he let out a chuckle. “Um, now that we know why Baozhi was acting up, I’ll let you go take him home-”
“He can play in there for a minute more,” He fiddled with his jeans pocket, nervously looking down at you. You could feel the nerves affecting you, making you bite the inside of your cheek. “Why did you leave without a word?” You scoffed, and looked at everything but him, positive your cheeks were radiating heat of up to 50 degrees Celsius.
“I - I just didn’t want to, ah, impose.” You gave him a pleading look, as if, please be okay with this answer.
“Ah, right.” He nodded and turned, walking towards the classroom door, and you felt your lungs deflate in relief. It was as his hand touched the door handle that he spun once more, looking you in the eyes. “It’s just that I had a good time on Saturday, and I’m pretty sure you did too by the sounds-”
“Hey hey hey, that’s enough!” You panicked, rushing over and placing your hands over his mouth, feeling him smirking underneath your palms. You narrowed your eyes at him, keeping your hands firmly placed. “Saturday was very fun. And I may have left super early because I didn’t want you to totally regret it once you woke up, and I figured it would stay a nice little fantasy of a great night if I just left.” You saw his eyebrows raise, but still you didn’t budge, keeping him mute. “Alright, fine - I was scared you might be a total douchebag and that it would ruin the memory of the amazing sex. Happy?” You saw his eyes turn into little crescents and his laughter was muffled against your hands as you pulled them away.
“You thought that it was amazing?” He looked proud, and you pouted.
“Would I have said that if it wasn’t true?” He shrugged, a huge grin still on his face as he leaned against the door.
“Well, you did say on Saturday that you’d give me your number, but I don’t recall that happening.” You scoffed, arms folded, but a sudden rush of confidence ran through you, making you grab a pen from a nearby desk and pull Yixing’s arm out towards you, scribbling your number onto his skin.
“I do what I say I’ll do.” You said, proudly, and re-folded your arms, earning a blindingly bright smile from him.
“Good. So, uh, dinner tonight?” It was your turn to slow blink.
“What about Baozhi?” You fretted, “There isn’t anyone to look after him, is there?” Yixing laughed, and you frowned at him again. “What, is this funny? Poor Baozhi, after I messed up his little life for a week his own father wants to-”
“He could come along too.” You blinked again.
“Huh?”
“If you don’t mind, he could come too.” You felt a grin work it’s way across your face although you tried to suppress it.
“I’d like that.” You grabbed your coat from the hook by the door and put it on, much to Yixing’s surprise. “Well, what are we waiting for? Let’s go get Baozhi and then get pizza.”
“Pizza?” He cocked his head at your decision and you shrugged.
“He wrote down for his make-a-sentence homework the other day that it was his favourite.”
And it was at that moment that Yixing knew you wouldn’t be getting rid of him for a long time.

Remember: Josh Dun fanfic

A/N: Just a reminder that I’ve gotten all of your requests, it’s just a matter of finding the time to write and post them. But don’t worry, I promise I’ll get to them soon! Love you guys! xoxo

Anonymous said:
Hey! May I request a Josh Dun imagine? Maybe like where the reader gets drunk and they come home to Josh and the reader’s all like “kiss me” and Josh does but he stops her before they do anything else bc Josh wouldn’t take advantage of the reader and it’s all cute and shiz lol. Love your writing! :) <3

*gender neutral

Bright lights, fancy awards, elegant attire, loud applause, crisp champagne, a crowd full of people, and your two best friends, it was a night like no other. Ever since Tyler and Josh’s new album hit the top of the charts, they had been busy as hell. Whether award shows, parties, interviews, concerts, touring, music video filming, or just traveling on the road, they always seemed to be the center of attention. It didn’t surprise you that they had won another award, but you were surprised when they decided to go to the after party. Usually they would bow out, decide to go back to the tour bus, and instead, blast music, eat cereal, and do their own little thing. They were never usually ones for parties. But however, winning an award and just finishing tour, going to a grand scale celebrity party must’ve sounded like the perfect way to celebrate. “Come on, y/n,” Josh insisted. “It’ll be fun. We don’t even have to drink or anything, we can just go there, talk to some people, dance for a little bit, that’s all.”

“Just a couple hours,” Tyler agreed.

“I never said I wasn’t going,” you narrowed your eyes. “I’m just double checking that this is really what you guys want to do.”

“Why? You doubt me and my partying abilities?” Tyler playfully gasped, putting a hand to his chest and acting deeply offended. “Believe me, y/n, I can bust a move like nobody knows.”

“Whatever,” you rolled your eyes. “I’m just making sure none of you will chicken out on me halfway through the night.”

“Never,” Tyler shook his head. “I’m on top of the world right now, and I don’t think I want to come down anytime soon. How about you, Josh?”

“Huh?” Josh lifted his head from his phone. “I was just scrolling through the group chat. The party starts in a couple minutes. I’d start heading over now.”

“Teenagers and their phones,” Tyler clicked his tongue.

“I’m researching,” Josh laughed. “I have to find the address somehow.”

It wasn’t long before you guys had arrived, and sure enough, it was just as you had imagined it. There was a plethora of people crowding the dance floor where a professional DJ and live band were playing music, a kitchen equipped with a bar tender serving all sorts of drinks and foods ranging anywhere from a five-foot-tall chocolate fountain to gourmet French fries, a longue where people were smoking and snorting who knows what kind of drugs, and of course, the usual pool table in the corner. “They went all out,” you shouted to Josh over the music as Tyler led you both towards the kitchen.

“Typical party,” he shrugged, putting an arm around you as you approached the bar tender. You and Josh were just friends, but you had to admit, you had a tiny crush on him, and when he put his arm around your shoulder, you couldn’t help but feel a small tug on your heartstrings. You tried to ignore your stupid feelings and took a seat next to Josh before asking for a drink.

“I’ll have a tequila,” you ordered. Josh eyed you strangely. “What?”

“I don’t know,” he tried acting casual. “I think I’m just going to stick to Red Bull tonight.”

“You should have at least one drink,” you argued, thanking the bar tender with a nod as he handed you a glass and you downed a shot. “Loosen up, celebrate, have some fun.”

“I’m already having fun,” he chuckled, popping open the tab of his can before taking a sip. “As long as I’m with you, I’m enjoying myself.”

“Flirt,” you smirked, trying to ignore the blush in your cheeks and ordering another shot. “You sure you don’t want one?”

“Somebody’s going to have to drive us home, remember?” he raised an eyebrow.

“Tyler already agreed to do that on the ride here,” you pointed out. “Here, I’ll order a margarita and you just have a sip or two.”

“Y/n,” Josh began to protest, but you were already waving at the bar tender to hit you up. You started on your next drink and Josh took a deep breath. “Maybe you should pace yourself a little bit. There’s still a lot of the night to go.”

“I’ll be just fine,” you rolled your eyes. That’s when Josh looked down at his phone. “What’s the matter?”

“Mark Hoppus just got here,” Josh explained. “He wants to congratulate me on the award and some stuff, talk for a little bit, catch up. Is it okay if I leave you here?”

“Yup,” you nodded. “I’m not going anywhere!”

“No more drinks,” Josh narrowed his eyes. “Not until I get back anyways, got it? It will only take a couple minutes. Look, Tyler’s right over there talking to Pete Wentz if you need somebody.”

“Don’t worry about me,” you groaned. “Go talk to Mark. I’ll be right here waiting for you.”

“Okay,” Josh complied hesitantly before sliding off his seat, gulping down the rest of his Red Bull, and then heading off to find his friend.

The rest of the night was basically a blur. You remember someone sitting down beside you, either Joe Trohman or Brendon Urie, and they had convinced you to have a couple more drinks. The bar tender had eventually cut you off because you had reached your limit for the night. One of your favorite songs came on and you stumbled onto the dance floor, slurring out the lyrics noisily, a random stranger picking you up off the floor, and then Tyler coming to save you. “Woah there,” Tyler steadied you. “You’re a mess.”

“Where’s Josh?” your incomprehensible attempt at speaking tumbled out of your mouth.

“Hmm?” Tyler cocked an eyebrow. “Oh, I think he went back. He couldn’t find you.”

“He left?” you slurred out.

“Yeah,” Tyler nodded. “To his hotel room. It’s getting late anyways. You should probably go back too. He’ll take care of you, I’ll leave you with him for the night. How about that?”

“I’d like that,” you responded happily.

“Goodness gracious, y/n, you’re reeking of alcohol,” Tyler frowned. “How much did you drink?”

“Just a little,” you replied.

“Uh huh…” he murmured. “Well how about we get you home?”

“Is Josh at home?” you sputtered out excitedly, your mind nothing but a jumbled mess of thoughts.

“He’s at the hotel, yeah,” Tyler answered. “But come on. We’ve got to get you in the car and then drive there too.” It took a while for him to drag you out to the driveway and help you into your seat, but eventually you were sitting shotgun, buckled in, and somewhat sane as Tyler drove down the road.

“Can I talk to Josh?” you wondered.

“Of course you can,” Tyler laughed. “We’ll see him in a little while.”

“No,” you whined impatiently. “Right now.”

“Right now?” he raised his eyebrows, gaze flickering from the road to you. “Uh, sure. You can call him if you want.”

“I can?” you asked eagerly.

“Sure you can,” he chuckled. “I mean, we’ll see him in just a couple minutes, but if you have to talk to him so bad, you can go right ahead.”

You fumbled for your phone in your pocket before pulling it out, somehow by miracle able to properly call Josh on the first try. The phone rang several times before he answered. “Hey y/n,” he greeted. “Sorry, I got kind of sleepy and I asked Tyler to take you home. How are you doing?”

“I’m so happy,” you sighed, slurring your words. “You should’ve been there.”

“Oh gosh,” Josh groaned. “Did you drink some more?”

“Just a little,” you insisted.

“A lot,” Tyler piped up.

“Don’t listen to him,” you argued. “I’m just a bit tipsy, that’s all.”

“You want to stay with me tonight?” Josh offered. “In case you get sick or something? I’m sure you won’t be so happy in a couple hours when all that junk starts to ruin your system.”

“That’s what I was thinking,” Tyler explained loud enough for Josh to hear. “If that’s alright with you.”

“It’s cool,” Josh replied. “You’ll be sticking with me tonight, y/n.”

“Sounds like a plan,” you grinned.

“Don’t get too excited,” Tyler rolled his eyes. “You’re probably going to have a killer hangover tomorrow morning.”

When you rolled into the parking lot of the hotel, Tyler could barely get you standing on your two feet. “I’m kind of dizzy,” you admitted. “Maybe that’s why my feet don’t work.”

“I’m dizzy just looking at you,” Tyler laughed. “Come on, let’s get you upstairs and to Josh’s room.”

“How do I walk if my feet don’t work?” you pouted.

“Your feet work just fine,” Tyler sighed. “You just need to try to use them.”

“I want Josh,” you insisted, swaying a couple times before Tyler stood you upright.

“I’m about to give up on you,” Tyler glared playfully. “Don’t make me call him down here to carry you.”

“I’d like that,” you giggled cheerfully. “I’d like that a lot.”

“Y/n, you are so drunk,” Tyler rolled his eyes.

“I want to see Josh,” you complained as he tugged you towards the door of the hotel, shoving you towards the elevator. “I love Josh.”

“Oh, I’m sure you do,” Tyler smirked. “You don’t have to be drunk for me to figure that out.”

“I love him so much,” you repeated.

“Well you better behave yourself,” Tyler narrowed your eyes, helping you out of the elevator and supporting you as you ambled down the hallway to Josh’s hotel room. When Josh opened the door, he stared at you, widening his eyes.

“Oh geez,” he muttered. “I thought I told you not to drink anymore!”

“You got it from here?” Tyler asked, pained look on his face. “I’m dead tired. Y/n’s been quite the handful.”

“Hey!” you snapped. “I’ve been an angel!”

“Have you now?” Josh chuckled.

“I’m going to turn in for the night,” Tyler sighed. “You have fun with that one.”

“I’ll try,” Josh teased. He lugged you into the room and sat you on the couch. “Try to get some sleep, okay?”

“No!” you whined, tugging at his arm when he tried to walk away. “I want to stay with you.”

“You want me to stay out here for a little while until you fall asleep?” he wondered.

“I want to fall asleep with you,” you corrected. “Pretty please? With a cherry on top?”

“You’re cute when you’re drunk,” he rolled his eyes.

“You’re cute all the time,” you insisted.

“Sure,” Josh laughed. “Come on, how about you join me and we can go to my bed?”

“Bed?” you raised your eyebrows and grinned.

“Stop it,” he shook his head. “I mean so we can sleep.”

“You want to sleep with me?” you smiled slyly. “Joshua Dun.”

“You’re just being silly,” he argued. “Come on, we’re going to go sleep. In bed. Now.”

“Whatever you say,” you shrugged, goofy grin still plastered on your face as he just laughed and scooped you up in his arms, carrying you to the hotel bed and before tucking you in. “Bridal style.”

“That’s right,” he chuckled. “I don’t want you falling on your face, it’s best if I carry you.”

“You carry me like a bride,” you yawned happily. “Does that mean we’re going to get married?”

“Sure,” he joked. “If you want.”

“That would make me so happy,” you sighed, turning over to face him, scooching closer to him underneath the sheets. “You and me, together forever.”

“You’re so drunk,” he laughed. “I bet you won’t even remember any of this tomorrow morning.”

“Is that when our wedding is?” you tilted your head. “Tomorrow morning?”

“Sure, why not,” Josh decided.

“Can I ask you something?” you frowned. “It’s important.”

“Of course,” he smiled. “Anything you want.”

“Can you kiss me?” you inquired, hopeful eyes gazing up at his. “Please?”

“Uh…” Josh stared at you for a second, debating it. “I’d love to, really, but I think you’d rather have me kiss you when you’re sober. So you remember, you know?”

“So you want to?” your eyes lit up.

“Yeah,” he admitted. “I’d love to. But I’d also want you to remember.”

“Maybe I don’t need to remember,” you offered. “Maybe it can be our secret. Just tonight.”

“Just tonight?” Josh raised an eyebrow, still contemplating it in his head. You were being awfully tempting, and those lips looked so soft and sweet, but he knew it was wrong. He shouldn’t do anything you wouldn’t be comfortable with sober. Much less, he had just confessed that he wanted to kiss you! He was crazy! What if you remembered that tomorrow morning? What if it was just your drunk self-talking? Questions swirled around in his brain and doubt began to eat away at him, anxiety slowly seeping into his brain.

“Please,” you begged. “Come on, Josh. Just one kiss won’t hurt.”

“I guess it won’t,” he agreed shyly.

“Then come on,” you insisted, staring at him. You lowered your voice to barely a whisper. “Just kiss me.” He leaned in and rested a hand behind your head, pulling you close and kissing your lips gently, lingering a moment before pulling back, opening his eyes and staring at you.

“I love you,” he breathed, still lost in your eyes, trying to figure out what he had just done, much less, said.

“I love you too,” you grinned. “Come on, let’s not stop there.” You leaned in for another kiss but he shook his head, closing his eyes tight before opening them again.

“Not tonight,” he took a deep breath. “Maybe when you’re sober, but I um, I shouldn’t have done that y/n. You’re not thinking right.”

“I’m thinking perfectly fine!” you rolled your eyes. “Please Josh, I want more.”

“So do I,” he mumbled. “But I really don’t think we should do this now.”

“Josh,” you stated his name and reached forward to grab his shirt, snaking your hands down his chest and trying to tug it up. “We can’t stop there.”

“Yes,” he chuckled. “We can. We should.”

“I want this off,” you whined, tugging up his shirt again but he just laughed nervously, tugging the hem of his shirt back down to his waist.

“Let’s try to keep our clothes on, okay?” he raised his eyebrows. “I think it’s best you get some sleep, clear your head, and we’ll try this again some other time.”

“Not another time,” you complained. “Now.”

“I know, but we can’t,” he insisted. “It’s not right.”

“Didn’t it feel so good though?” you argued. “Your lips on mine? Being so close? Just the two of us, in this bed, together? Didn’t you feel something?”

“I did,” he nodded slowly. “However I think you just aren’t in the right circumstances to do any of that right now. You probably don’t even understand half of the things you’re saying. How about we cuddle and fall asleep, is that okay?”

“I want more than cuddles,” you persisted.

“Look, y/n, I’m sorry,” he sighed. “But please, I’m not going to argue with you anymore. Let’s just go to sleep. Please?”

“Okay,” you mumbled.

“Thank you,” he sighed. He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. “Goodnight sweetheart.”

A couple minutes passed before you fell asleep, eyes closed, wrapped in Josh’s arms. You both laid there in silence, a mixture of soft snores, quiet heartbeats, and shallow breathing. That was until the sun filtered through the blinds and there was a churning, horrible, miserable feeling in the pit of your stomach, and you stumbled out of bed, escaping his arms and staggering to the bathroom, flinging open the door and retching all the contents of your stomach into the toilet bowl. Vomiting wasn’t a pretty sight, especially during a horrific hangover, and you felt absolutely embarrassed you had caused the mess in Josh’s hotel bathroom. You heard him stirring in bed, calling your name, and your face instantly turned red. Your head was spinning, a terrible migraine overtaking you, and sure enough, you found yourself puking up even more. You felt Josh kneel beside you, rubbing small gentle circles on your back, brushing your hair out of your face. “I’m sorry,” you sputtered out. “Shit, I’m so sorry-”

“It’s okay,” he reassured. “Don’t apologize.”

“I feel miserable,” you mumbled and he frowned, handing you a towel to clean your mouth and flushing the toilet, helping you up and giving you a hug.

“I told you not to drink anymore last night,” he reminded.

“Did I?” you wondered, watching his eyes soften as he released the embrace.

“You don’t remember anything… do you?” he whispered.

“Why? Did uh, did something happen?” you looked around and started to realize how strange it was that you slept in Josh’s bed, he was cuddling you this morning, and you supposedly got absolutely wasted last night. “Fuck, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he shook his head. “Don’t worry about it, nothing happened. I just let you stay here for the night because I was afraid you might get sick. I’m glad I did, I mean, I wouldn’t want you all alone with a horrible hangover.”

“Thank you,” you stuttered out. “Goddammit I feel absolutely miserable.”

“I’ll get you a glass of water and some Advil,” he decided. “Just take it easy, okay? When you’re done you can just lay on the bed. Got it?”

“Yeah,” you nodded slowly. “Thanks so much.”

“No problem,” he gave a small smile. “I just really hope you feel better soon.”

You took a wet washcloth and wiped your face, taking a deep breath, then heading to the bed, rolling underneath the sheets. Josh approached you, handing you a cup of water and a couple Advil, which you downed and thanked him before resting your head on the pillow. “Can you, uh, stay with me? Maybe?” you asked shyly. “I don’t really want to be alone.”

“Sure,” he replied, pulling up the covers and lying beside you. Without thinking, he put an arm around you, pulling you closer, and you smiled. “Uh, is this okay? If I do this?”

“It’s more than okay,” you laughed. “I just wish I didn’t feel so shitty so I could enjoy it more. It’s not often I get cuddles.”

“You got plenty last night,” he chuckled.

“About that…” your voice trailed off. “What um, what did I do exactly? Last night?”

“You were fine,” Josh reassured. “I kept you under control. Tyler made sure you behaved.”

“Behaved?” you took a shaky breath.

“Yeah,” he smirked.

“W-what did I do?” you stammered.

“I don’t know,” he shrugged. “I mean, obviously you don’t really remember. And when you were drunk you promised it would be our little secret.”

“Josh-” a worried, embarrassed, scared look spread across your face.

“Don’t worry,” he insisted. “Much to your disliking, I made sure we kept all our clothes on.”

“What does that mean?” you grew quiet, twice as self-conscious now.

“You really want to know?” Josh raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, I sort of do,” you admitted. “I mean, if I’m as rambunctious as you say I was.”

“Maybe I should tell you when you feel better,” he decided.

“I want to know,” you argued. “Now. Please?”

“You were getting sort of, um, suggestive last night,” he explained. “You wanted to do stuff, but I told you no cause you were absolutely wasted. You got all mopey and sad and kept persisting and we uh, we kissed, once. But then I made you go to bed.”

“We kissed?” your face turned bright red. “Oh gosh, I’m sorry, look I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s okay,” he laughed. “I’m fine. I just thought that um, you might want to know.”

“Yeah,” you nodded slowly. “So… was it a good kiss?”

“Maybe you would’ve remembered if you weren’t so drunk,” he rolled his eyes jokingly.

“No really,” you persisted. “Or was it awkward?”

“Maybe you should find out for yourself,” he suggested.

“What do you mean?” you narrowed your eyes.

“You know exactly what I mean,” he whispered. You stared at him for a second before capturing him in a kiss, pressing his lips on his and feeling him pull you closer, eyes closed, mouths opened, tongues moving in syncopation, his body so close to yours. When you pulled away you both opened your eyes, staring at each other, and you blinked twice.

“Did that really just happen?” you wondered, gasping for breath.

“Yeah,” Josh breathed, eyes staring into yours. “It did.”

“No, like last night,” you clarified, taking a deep breath and still unable to move your gaze away from his. “Did that happen?”

“Not as intimate, no,” he shook his head. “And uh, I don’t know about you, but I liked this one a lot better.”

“Me too,” you smiled. “Hopefully I’ll remember.”

“You think, uh, we should do it again?” he hinted. “Just in case?”

“Josh,” you laughed. “I don’t think I’ll be forgetting any of this anytime soon.”

“Do you still feel horrible?” he tilted his head to the side.

“I feel much better,” you replied. “But like you said, I think another kiss wouldn’t hurt.”

“You know you didn’t have to be drunk to kiss me, y/n,” Josh reminded. “I would’ve kissed you sober just fine. All you had to do is ask.”

“I was scared,” you admitted. “I mean, hell, what’s Tyler going to think?”

“I think he already knows,” Josh laughed. “You told him you were in love with me last night.”

“I did?” you widened your eyes. “What else happened that you never told me about?”

“You wanted my shirt off,” he added.

“I still do,” you teased.

“I’m pretty sure I can make that happen,” he gave a sly smile.

“Yeah?” you grinned.

“Yeah,” he murmured.

“I think I found the perfect cure to a killer hangover,” you chuckled.

“What? Kissing?” he raised his eyebrows.

“Nah,” you shook your head. “You.”

Bad Idea

Summary: Harry loves the idea of strip poker drunk, not so much sober and definitely not when his drunk suggestion gave his friend the wrong idea. Based off of 132 from this list,  “We’re not playing strip poker. I don’t care what I said when I was drunk

Warnings: A little unwarranted touching, some cursing, mentions of stripping but no actual stripping. 

Requested: Yes.

I made up my own friend of Harry’s because I feel like all the real friends of his wouldn’t do this. And in the request I wasn’t sure if you wanted this to be in the same night or next day when Harry’s sober, so I made it the same night because that made more sense to me.

This turned into me writing Harry drunk, but don’t worry, I got the request in there. Sorry if it’s not exactly what you asked for. 


Harry’s drunk, you thought, and now I’ll have to take care of him tomorrow. He had an arm wrapped loosely around your waist while talking to his friends, and you had zoned out a few minutes ago much more focused on your plans for tomorrow.

“Y/N?” Harry leans down to press a kiss to your shoulder, “What do you think?” 

You push his head away, smiling at the pout he gives you, “I zoned out, what do I think about what?” 

Harry’s friend, you think he had said his name was Zach, laughs while looking you up and down. His eyes land on where Harry’s hand is resting on your hip before he looks back up at you, “Harry thinks I should get over Erin by getting under somebody else.” Zach winks and you cringe turning to see Harry’s reaction, but his eyes are glassy and he’s watching you with a dopey smile, he hadn’t seen the wink. 

“I think everybody has their own way of moving on.” You smile politely, stepping closer to Harry, “And if sex is your way then go ahead, there are plenty of people here tonight.” 

Zach opens his mouth to respond but Harry starts to pull you away, “I just saw Mary walk in, we haven’t seen her in months! We’ll see you later!” Harry waves with his free hand as the other pulls you across the room towards your friend. 

“Zach is a little too flirty, don’t you think?” You mumble as the two of you come to a stop, waiting for Mary to finish her conversation with somebody else.

Harry looks down at you and shrugs, “Zach s’always been a flirt,” He says, some of his words sliding together, ““s jus’ the way he is.” 

You nod, pushing the thought of Harry’s friend to the back of your mind as Mary pulls you into a hug, “I’ve missed my favorite couple!” She presses a kiss to your cheek before pulling Harry down and pressing one to his as well. As Mary pulls you two into conversation, telling story after story of her adventures the thought of Zach completely disappears. 

Eventually the three of you along with several of Harry’s other friends end up occupying a couch in the living room. More drinks are passed around and Harry has begun telling his favorite drunk story of how the two of you go lost walking to your apartment and met a fortune teller.

You’re in his lap, an arm still wrapped around your waist and beer in his other hand as he talks. He’s waving his arm rapidly as he tells the story, so some of his drink is spilling on your lap and splashing onto people’s arms, “’m gonna take that from you.” You whisper to him and he nods, letting you take the beer and place it on the table next to the couch. 

“Then she flipped my palm over an’ traced this line,” Harry speaks slower when he’s drunk, you realize as you listen to a story you’ve heard a thousand times, “an’ what did she say? Y/N, do you remember what she told me?”

You shake your head, “I don’t, sorry Harry.” 

Harry frowns and looks down at his palm, “Well, shit.” 

Mary laughs at Harry’s troubled expression and places a hand on his elbow, “How about instead of listening to this riveting story, we play a game.” 

Everybody around you nods and Harry perks up, “’ve got an idea.” He rests his chin on your shoulder and wraps his other arm around your waist. 

“What is it?” You press a kiss to his forehead and he beams up at you, his arms tightening around you. “We should play strip poker.”

“I suck at poker.” You frown and Harry smirks, “I know, that’s why we should play.” 

“Shut up, you wouldn’t be saying that if you weren’t drunk.” You try to pull his arms off of you so you can stand. 

“How about regular poker?” Mary offers, giving you a reassuring smile, “There are way too many people with camera’s here to play strip poker, Harry.” 

Harry lets go of you and frowns as you stand up, “Where are you going?” You stick your hand out to him and smile, “You’ve had too much, it’s time to go to bed unless you want an even worse hangover tomorrow.” 

Harry takes your hand and stands up, “Am I gonna get laid?” he tries to whisper, but fails. Your friends laugh and whistle but you shake your head, “Not tonight, you loser.” 

You stop in the kitchen to get Harry water, ”’m tired.” he mutters as he sips from the glass you had given him. 

“I know, ‘s why I’m taking you to bed.” You turn to smile at him before leading him towards the bedroom. He nods, but doesn’t verbally respond as you unlock to bedroom door and walk him to the bed. He wraps himself up in the comforter and smiles softly at you, “Join me?” 

You run a hand through his messy hair while shaking your head, “I’m gonna go hang out for a bit, make sure people leave and aren’t here all night.” 

“Will you be back?” he mutters sleepily, your hand in his hair slowly lulling him to sleep. “I will, no more than two or three hours, I promise.” 

Harry nods as you pull your hand from his hair, just an hour, you think, then I’ll come to bed. 


It’s pushing three in the morning, and you had left Harry almost three hours ago. People had left, and now there was only you and your friends sitting in the living room playing a round of non-strip poker. 

“You weren’t lying, you really do suck,” Mary laughs as you put down another set of bad cards and she pulls the betting pool (a hair tie, watch, twenty dollar bill and packet of fruit snacks.) towards her. 

“Shut up.” You look down at your phone, 3:02, “I should probably go to bed, I promised Harry I’d be back by now.” 

“Don’t think you’ll have to do that.” Mary smiles and you give her a confused look, until you feel someone sit beside you. “I’m awake.” You look and Harry smiles tiredly at you, “Missed you.” He sounds more alert, and looks more sober than drunk, sleeping must have helped, you think. 

“It’s only been three hours, you baby.” You blush as he nuzzles his face into your neck, “I missed you too.” 

“You two are sickening.” Somebody, Alex you think, groans. 

You laugh and turn to look at everybody, “One more round?” When they nod you turn to look at Harry, “I was thinking strip poker.” 

“Why were you thinking that?” He glares past you, at Zach, who was smirking as he looked you up and down, “It’ll be fun, Harry.” Zach smiles at him when he says this and Harry turns back to you. 

“It was your idea,” You laugh, his and Zach’s exchange going unnoticed by you. “Said you loved playing strip poker with me.” 

“When we’re alone,” He mutters, pulling you closer to him, “We’re not playing strip poker. I don’t care what I said when I was drunk.”

Zach leans over from his spot next to Mary, and places a hand on your thigh, “I’d loved to play strip poker, Y/N.” You look at his hand in shock before Harry forcefully removes it. 

“Don’t touch her.” Harry spits as you lean closer to him. He places a protective hand on your leg and Zach raises his in mock surrender, “Was only a joke, mate.” 

“Not a funny one, pal.” Harry places emphasis on the word and Alex places a hand on his shoulder before standing up. 

“Maybe it’s time to go, it’s really late.” He mutters, offering a hand to Mary who takes it and stands up, “Yeah, we’re all tired and drunk, let’s go.” She agrees.

You and Harry both stand and dust yourselves off as his friends begin to gather their things. The air is tense when Zach turns to you and smiles sweetly before placing an arm around your shoulders, “You’re welcome to come home with me, have some more fun.” 

Harry steps forward, as if to fight, but Alex stops him as you shake Zach’s arm off. “Fuck off.” Harry says to him as Alex pulls Zach away from you and out of your apartment. Harry pulls you into him, you wrap your arms around his waist as he whispers, “What a prick.” 

“I told you so.” You mutter, thinking back to your earlier questioning of Zach.

Harry laughs, “Yeah, you did.” He presses a kiss to your hair and you smile softly, you really did love this fool. 


Hi! It’s me again, I hope you like this and that it fit your request! 

Request from prompt lists, I have one reblogged and I linked it in my opening thing. Also, I love notes, I didn’t expect my writing to get more than 10-15 notes and getting 100+ on my first piece and like 40+ on my last one was so cool, so thank you!!

Thank you for reading and have a good day! 

Sherlolly Appreciation Week Day 1: First Meeting


Here’s my theory about Sherlock asking Molly for her help for the ‘Stag Night’. “You think I like a… drink?” - Well… 

Thanking @mizjoely for giving it a once over! ~Lil~


-Yes, Molly, I Do Think You Like A Drink-

Molly stumbled to the bench and sat down, glad that she was stationary, even if the rest of the world still seemed to be a bit… wobbly. Her ‘friends’ had left her at the bus stop, drunk, to head to another pub.

“Stupid, awful, bloody, stupid friends,” she mumbled to herself. I could be kidnaped, or abducted! Wait… that’s the same thing. Looking around to check out her surroundings, she saw a man leant up against building behind her and slightly to her left, smoking a fag.

In the dark all she could make out was that he was tall and wearing a long coat. Great! she thought. Probably a flasher. She lowered her head. Not looking at the crazy man!

Hearing footsteps, she realised that the flasher was walking closer to her. Molly was very careful not to look at him again.That’s what’s you’re supposed to do, right? Or was it look at them, try to memorise their face? She was confused… well, maybe more drunk than confused.

“Want one?” a deep voice asked her.

Glancing up at the kidnapper/flasher, Molly shook her head, then turned to her right look for the bus. Where the hell is it?

“It’s coming from this direction,” he said, causing Molly to turn her head toward him once again. He was facing away from her, pointing with his cigarette to the West.

“Thanks,” she said, trying to sound sober. Must not let the maniac know I’m compromised.

“You have a rubbish group of friends, you know that?” he said as he flicked the butt away.

Crazy though he may be, he did have a lovely voice. “Hmm?”

“You’re drunk and alone. It’s nearly midnight.”

“Oh,” she said, keeping her face down. Avoid eye contact with the crazed killer! “I’m not alone and I’m not drunk.”

He chuckled. “Of course not.”

“Ahh… no…” she tried to argue, but really what was she going to say? She was indeed alone, at 11.47 at night and she was drunk.

He walked closer and Molly felt her fear rising, or was it something else?

“Why don’t you just call a cab before someone…”

That sentence was never finished because Molly vomited on his very expensive looking shoes.

“You idiot!” he growled.

“Sorry,” she mumbled as she felt someone easing her to lie down on the bench. “Please don’t kill and abduct me.”

“You got that backwards,” he said. Then she watched him pull out surgical gloves from his pocket (yep, definitely a killer!) and take off his shoes, tossing them in a nearby bin.

She closed her eyes for just a second (to make the world stop spinning), but she could still hear him talking. “Mycroft… (what’s a Mycroft?) Send one of your goons to Hanover Street I’ve stumbled upon a drunken girl whilst waiting on my contact.” He paused and Molly opened her eyes to find him looking at her. “Yes, she’s fine. Abandoned by her friends and in fear that I might kill her. Oh, and I need a new pair of shoes,” he finished just before ringing off.

She was still staring at the man, the beautiful, beautiful man, she now realised, as he walked over and crouched down so that he was nearly eye level with her. “My brother works for the government. He’s sending someone to pick you up. No one’s going to kill you… tonight.”

“You’re fucking beautiful,” Molly said as she looked into the most glorious pair of eyes she’d ever seen.

He seemed unimpressed by her assessment of his looks. “Beauty is a construct based on childhood impressions.”

“There was nothin’ in my childhood like you,” she said, still in awe.

The man smirked. “You were celebrating something this evening.” He studied her, thinking. “Hen night? No… a new job. Your new job!” he finished, almost excitedly.

“How’d you know that?” she asked.

He didn’t respond, just stood and straightened his coat, then pulled out another cigarette and lit it.

“I start tomorrow.”

“You’ll have a hangover on your first day. Not a good first impression.”

“I’ll be fine. I did the math,” she explained as she sat up.

“You what?”

“I did the math, calculating how much alcohol I could drink and avoid a hangover,” she explained.

“Did the numbers not include regurgitation?”

She shrugged. “There were unknown variables.”

His head jerked up. “There he is.”

Molly looked around and saw no one. “You’re going to meet someone now? You don’t even have shoes on.”

“Don’t let the car leave until I get back. I’ll need my shoes when I return.” Then he was gone, jogging around the corner, shoeless.

What a strange man, she thought. Beautiful, but strange.

anonymous asked:

Can I get something where Xanxus thinks his s/o likes tsuna, but in reality they like him (Xanxus). Something like where they confess when they think he's not paying attention?

COMPLETE

Admin Adelheid

Xanxus scowled as he watched you conversing easily with the Vongola Decimo.

Laughing easily and blushing brightly and smiling tenderly at the Vongola Boss.

It made him want to hit something. Like Sawada Tsunayoshi’s face.

The only thing stopping him from doing that was the fact that he was still sober enough to consider the alliance he had with the brat.

You had been lent to him by this very same man to help out with the auditing Mammon had been bitching about for several months now. Your rather reserved nature and gentle, soft spoken manner was somewhat unusual in the Varia Fortress but Xanxus had been pleased by your diligence and dedication to your work. Squalo and Mammon and even Lussuria couldn’t stop singing your fucking praises. You were no pushover either. Though you were no Flame user you had the skills to take a stand even amongst the most ornery members of his squad. You showed him respect even when you were expressing your disagreement relating matters involving your work and for that Xanxus can’t help but respect you.

Over time your respectful honesty caused him to seek your counsel. You listened to him without judging him or acting like you know better. You accepted his failings and your insight was always unbiased and logical.

But the most shocking of all was that you honestly cared for his well being.

That was when he… when he started feeling like a pathetic dog looking for scraps from your table. He couldn’t help it. He wasn’t even aware when he started looking for your scent in a room or following the sound of your voice. When did he start making excuses just to spend time with you? It was as though you had built a magical magnet in his brain that automatically made him walk towards the direction of your presence. He had too much pride to say the words but… Hell, even his men were starting to notice how your moods affected his temper nowadays.

But it didn’t seem like you were interested. He could feel the wall you were building around yourself even as you expressed concern for him and lent him all the emotion you could spare. It was as though you were torn between keeping things professional between you and acting like the gentle soul that you were.

Belphegor thought aloud once that perhaps your heart was already set on someone. The thought infuriated Xanxus. He would love to know who that was so he could crush them between his fingers. The thought of you loving someone else was too much to bear. It made him want to kill you with his bare hands so no one else could have you.

In the party he had kept a keen eye on all your interactions so he could pin down which dead man had taken your fancy but you were formal and aloof with everyone else.

Except for Sawada Tsunayoshi.

Xanxus was left brooding and in a bad enough mood to end the night by grabbing a hold of you and dragging you out of the party right after dinner practically throwing you inside the helicopter.

“Xanxus!” you cried out, surprised by the abruptness of his actions. “What are you doing?!”

“You’re never setting foot near that brat Sawada again, do you hear me?!” he growled back, his eyes snapping molten rage at you.

“What are you so angry about?” you asked, genuinely confused. “Did I do something wrong?”

He didn’t answer and brooded for the rest of the ride back to the Varia fortress.

Sighing in your room a few hours later you couldn’t help but be worried about him. From what you have known about him Xanxus may be a violent tempered man but he was not so easily incited to anger like he had been this evening. And he’d drunk too much again. Did he even take any antacids for the hangovers tomorrow?

You sighed and took some from your medicine cabinet. After taking a pitcher of water and a glass from the kitchens you went to his room. Whatever it was he was angry about it seemed it had something to do with you and you cared about him too much to leave things like this before you went to sleep. Thinking you might have done something to make him mad bothered you more than it was comfortable.

You knocked a few times to let him know you were coming in before walking into his room to find him lying on his back snoring away on his bed. With his shoes on. Figures.

Sighing you set the tray down on his bedside table and proceeded to take off his shoes and socks carefully. When you came back up you smiled sadly at the sight of his sleeping face. Still seemingly restless even in slumber. You couldn’t stop yourself. You ran a gentle hand over his forehead, brushing his hair away fondly.

“You crazy idiot, why are you so mad at me?” you asked him in a whisper as your fingers relished the feel of his hair on your skin. “I know I can’t have you… It would be impossible for me. But at least let me stay here and love you quietly. Please at least let me have my delusions…”

Suddenly your wrist was grabbed and then the world was spinning and all of a sudden, you were pinned on the bed underneath the weight of same man you had been adoring in his sleep; his eyes boring into your surprised ones.

“So you’re not in love with him?” he asked fiercely as he searched your gaze for the truth.

You had to blink several times in dizzy confusion. In your head, the world was still spinning. “Huh? Who?”

“That brat!”

“What brat?”

Sawada!”

“What?” your brow furrowed at what he was implying. “Of course not, he’s just a good friend―”

“Good,” the relief in his voice and the smile that crossed his face made your breath catch. “Then I won’t have to fucking go to war then.”

“Xanxus, what―”

But he had already slid his lips against yours. And all night long he whispered words of possession in your ear as he drove you out of your mind in pleasure.