In which you have the first sentence your soulmate will say to you tattooed on your shoulder, Jimin’s being “Excuse you, your morning boner is poking at my thigh”.
Even though Jungkook doesn’t have as bad luck as Jimin does, he isn’t completely satisfied with his “Fuck you” tattoo either.
Jimin had been only three when his mother had told him about soulmates for the first time. He could remember it like it happened just yesterday. That was how clear the memory was.
“Jimin,” she’d said, sitting him down on his bed with an intense look in her eyes. “In your life, you will meet one person who is unlike anyone else. You’ll feel a pull towards them - the first time you lock eyes, you will feel like you’re suddenly whole again, after feeling like you’ve been missing something, no, someone your whole life.
You’ll know them when you meet, but if you ever doubt yourself, a tattoo will appear on your shoulder when you turn five. The first words they’ll ever say to you will be carved into your skin until the day your soulmate says them to you, the very day you’ll first talk to each other.”
Here, she smiled. Like she was remembering something amazing, something special. “And when you meet them, Jimin, don’t you ever let them go. If you lose them, you will feel broken again, and you will lose your will to live and die. Don’t you ever let them go.”
Jimin had thought that the first words his soulmate would say to him would be beautiful and poetic, that the words he would get would be something he could treasure.
Boy, was he wrong.
On his fifth birthday, his whole family gathered around the little boy. On the precise time he’d been born, his shoulder had started to bloom with a numbing pain, just like he’d been told multiple times before.
It took ten minutes - twenty, tops - until the feeling had finally started to fade. That was when he got the courage to glance at the tattoo resting on his collarbone.
“Mom, what’s a boner?” He had asked, as innocent as a lamb, after reading the sentence. She’d gasped harshly, as had most of his relatives, then took a look at his shoulder.
Excuse you, your morning boner is poking at my thigh.
At the time, he had no idea what a ‘morning boner’ was, but as the seasons changed and the years passed, he found out exactly what it meant.
And Jimin started to wish that soulmates didn’t exist, so badly that he almost believed it.
Because no matter how hard he tried to lie to himself, the truth was that he had the tattoo on his shoulder, and it would never change. And honestly, Jimin couldn’t help hating his soulmate just a bit for it.
Jimin pulled the oversized black and white striped shirt over his head and looked at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. The shirt left quite a bit of shoulder exposed, and he sighed as he traced a finger over the words. The black letters looked harsh on Jimin’s tan skin, and it made him cringe.
He’d gotten used to the tattoo over the years, but his friends hadn’t. Because of his (stupid) soulmate, he’d become the butt of fifty too many jokes, and, whenever his friends laughed, he wanted to break the nose of whoever would be brash enough to say this.
Jimin had sworn, when he’d been seventeen and incredibly annoyed after a particularly harsh (but slightly funny) joke, that the first thing he’d say to his soulmate when he met them, no matter who they were, would be a big “fuck you”.
That was what he thought about as he squeezed a generous amount of thick foundation on his fingers and started to spread it on his tattoo. His friends were bad enough; he didn’t need any strangers seeing it at today’s party, which was being hosted but the richest and most arrogant brat on the whole campus. Probably the whole freaking world.
Jimin didn’t know the guy - hell, he hadn’t even talked to him - but he already didn’t like him. He was handsome and rich, and he definitely knew it. Jimin only had agreed to go to the stupid thing because his best friend, Hoseok, had convinced him to. In fact, Hoseok wanted Jimin to go with him so he could hook him up with Yoongi, Jimin’s other best friend. Not an exciting prospect, honestly.
“Jimin, come on! We’re going to be late!” Hoseok yelled through the bathroom door, banging on the wood with heavy fists. It was ten o’clock in the evening, and Hoseok was eager to meet with Yoongi, who would (hopefully) be his date for the night.
“Shut up, I’m coming,” Jimin mumbled, putting the foundation away when his tattoo was covered up the way it was supposed to be. He unlocked the door and pulled it open, glaring. Hoseok knew he hated being rushed, and his roommate gave him an innocent smile.
Hoseok was dressed in black skinny jeans and a plain white top, a blazer and sneakers thrown on for good measure. Very billionaire-playboy-chilling-with-a-glass-of-scotch.
“Woah, you look good”, he complimented him, and Jimin’s glare turned into a smile. He’d parted his hair to reveal his forehead, and even though he wasn’t the most confident person, he felt good about the way he looked for once.
“Now, can we go?” Hoseok pleaded, with big doe eyes for effect, and Jimin sighed.
“Fine, let’s get this over with,” he mumbled, grabbing a pair of black boots. Hoseok watched him pull them on, and Jimin muttered, “Calm down,” just when he was pulled out the door.
“Oh my God, I’m so nervous, I think I’m going to puke. I think I look green, do I look green?”
Jimin rolled his eyes, smiling fondly. Hoseok had been rambling for the past half hour, while they walked to the mansion where the party was supposed to be.
“You’ll be just fine, don’t worry. He might seem a bit cold, but I swear he’s all rainbows and unicorns inside,” Jimin said, doing his best to pry his best friend’s claws off his shirt (it was a gift, after all). He snickered when Hoseok kept muttering, ‘oh my God,’ as they arrived. The house was a mansion, almost as grand as Gatsby’s. What else would you expect from a rich brat?
As they made their way to the front door, Jimin started to look around. Yoongi had promised to be here; he owed Jimin a favor, which was why he had agreed to be Hoseok’s date for tonight. Otherwise he probably would’ve just stayed home, writing music in the almost-dark as usual (Yoongi’s dream was to be a famous rapper).
When Jimin finally spotted him, lounging near a wall with a stereotypical red solo cup in his hand, he grabbed Hoseok’s hand and started making his way towards the dark-haired man. Hopefully, he wouldn’t move before they got there.
“Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God, that’s Yoongi right there, oh my God, he looks so good”, Hoseok repeated the words like they were the only thing keeping him alive. It was a good thing the music was so loud, otherwise Yoongi would’ve heard. Hoseok was right, Jimin admitted to himself. Yoongi was dressed in all black, with a snapback pulled over his eyes, like in all of his rap videos.
Jimin pushed Hoseok towards Yoongi, who had noticed them and was now standing up straight. Jimin winked and gave Hoseok a thumbs up before he melted into the crowd.
He didn’t need to be a third wheel for the whole night. No, he’d much rather spend his time with some good ol’ shots of strong, liver-killing alcohol. Jimin wasn’t someone who drank often, but his choices were a) be sober and painfully alone or b) be alone and roaring drunk.
Not a hard choice, really.
He found his way to the alcohol and poured himself six shots with a smile on his face. Now that’s what we are talking about. He downed his first shot after he found himself a place to sit (he wasn’t planning on being in any condition to stand for much longer). From his spot, he could see almost everyone in the giant room. His eyes skipped over people until he saw someone he really didn’t want to.
The host of the party. None other than Jeon Jungkook himself.
Jimin scoffed. He was leaning back on the couch, girls and guys surrounding him with a girl in a silvery-blue dress on his lap. Jeon threw his head back in laughter.
He downed the second shot the moment he saw that stupid rich brat sucking faces with another student (wasn’t he Namjoon?). He was nowhere near drunk enough to see that. Another shot disappeared, burning its way down his throat.
A weird feeling bubbled in his chest as he watched the two suck each other’s souls out. He couldn’t quite give the emotion a name, but it felt a lot like… jealousy? No fucking way. Jimin almost laughed out loud at his thoughts, downing a fourth shot. They didn’t even know each other.
The rest of the night was a blur, but he was fairly certain he had ended up drinking way more than six shots. It resulted in some awkward interactions with other students, who were nearly as drunk as him, and of course, he had blacked out on the mansion’s floor before the party had even finished. He could’ve sworn he had seen Yoongi and Hoseok get along well. Of course, if your definition of getting along was kissing rather shyly in a secret corner.
Jungkook saw the boy in the striped shirt the moment he’d walked in.
His silver hair that reflected the light perfectly, his plump lips that he bit when he tried not to laugh - every single thing about him seemed to draw him in. He’d come with someone who looked incredibly nervous, was that his boyfriend? His eyebrows furrowed, ever so slightly, and he shook his head. Why did he care? It was none of his business.
Still, his gaze followed him (wasn’t his name Park Jimin, or something?) intently as he navigated his way through the people in the party, until they reached a guy who looked like he’d rather be anywhere than here. The silver-haired male pushed his friend - something Jungkook had just realized - towards the guy who had been leaning on the wall. He was short, like Jimin.
Jungkook watched Jimin slip into the crowd, the two boys left looking awkwardly at each other. He rolled his eyes. The two clearly liked each other; what was so hard about talking to each other and actually sharing a conversation instead of awkward, yearning glances?
Jungkook tried to find Jimin, but it was like he’d disappeared into thin air. Had he left? A weird feeling of desperation flushed through the Jungkook as he moved to sit on the couch, people crowding to sit around him. He spotted Jimin a few minutes after, sitting alone with a tray of shots in front of him. Jungkook watched him drink shot after shot, and grinned at the cute way he scrunched up his nose after every single one.
Time to move on.
Jungkook turned towards the group he was sitting with, mostly to Namjoon, who sat right next to him. Namjoon was good-looking, he couldn’t deny that, but why didn’t his dimples make him feel all warm and fuzzy inside? Why didn’t his smile make his stomach flip like Jimin’s smile did? Would Namjoon’s lips make Jungkook feel the way he felt when he saw Jimin?
That was what went through his mind as he leaned towards the platinum-haired male and captured their lips in a kiss that Jungkook found anything but passionate. He could taste alcohol in Namjoon’s mouth, and it most definitely didn’t make butterflies fly around his insides.
He felt like throwing up when he finally pulled away. That was their first and last kiss, Jungkook decided right then and there.
He bolted up from his seat and headed towards the bar - because alcohol was exactly what he needed to drown his feelings.
All Jungkook could remember after that was downing way too much whiskey, keeping his hands to himself way too little, and getting way, way too drunk.
Jimin let out a groan as he forced his eyes open, then let out another when he screwed them shut again. The sun was high up already, and the room was annoyingly, incredibly bright.
There was an ogre in his head, kicking his brain and making everything tremble as revenge for last night. He almost wished he’d stayed at the dorms, cuddling into a fuzzy blanket while reading a good book. But the feeling of being carefree, being completely weightless, was worth the headache. And the nausea.
Jimin shifted to his side. There was something warm and soft, and he burrowed into that soft something, letting out a content sigh. That soft something smelled really nice, pine and cologne and something else, and he breathed in deeply. After a few minutes of being comfortable, he heard a rumbly voice rasp entirely too close to his ear.
“Excuse you, your morning boner is poking at my thigh,” the person groaned. The way his voice scraped around the edges made heat flood in his chest, like slipping into a warm blanket.
Jimin whined and nuzzled his face into the soft material, mumbling a small “fuck you,” as he did. A few seconds later, the soft something, or someone disappeared, and he hit his head on the cold, hard floor.
His headache split his head in half.
“Ow! What the fuck?” He yelped, sitting up and rubbing his eyes with the tiniest hint of a pout on his lips. When he finally managed to open his eyes, he jumped, nearly six feet in the air.
Jeon Jungkook was sitting in front of him, all messy dark hair and eyes that sparkled in the sun. Jimin’s heart jumped into overdrive.
“What did you just say to me?” Jungkook questioned, leaning forward ever so slightly, which made Jimin lean backward ever so slightly.
“Um, ‘fuck you’?” Jimin suggested carefully, playing with his hands and looking at his lap.
“Oh my God,” Jungkook mumbled. Jimin’s eyes turned into saucers when he started to take his shirt off.
“W-What do you think you’re doing?” he stuttered, failing miserably at trying to sound annoyed. Moments later, a sigh slipped past his lips at the image of Jungkook shirtless, the sun hitting his skin like he was a god.
And no, it wasn’t because of Jungkook’s toned chest or abs, not even his arms or beautiful golden skin, but because of the tattoo on his shoulder. Exactly where Jimin’s was. Exactly where the soulmate tattoo was supposed to be.
“Are you kidding me?” Jimin snickered, his nervousness vanishing. He traced a finger over the words, curling black on golden skin, and nearly smiled when he felt Jungkook shiver. “Does that mean you actually just said ‘excuse you, your morning boner is poking at my thigh’?”
Jungkook’s cheeks turned rosy, the prettiest shade of pink Jimin had ever seen, and he looked down on his lap when he nodded. For once, not the arrogant, spoilt brat. “Sorry about that,” he said, “it must’ve not been a very nice thing to have on your shoulder.”
But Jimin didn’t care about that. He didn’t care about any of that, anymore.
He had finally found his soulmate, his missing piece, and my God, was he beautiful.
“You stupid, rich brat,” Jimin smiled, carefully leaning towards Jungkook. His lips curved into a soft smile, headache long forgotten.
“You stupid shortie,” Jungkook muttered just before their lips met. It was like Sunday afternoons, warm and comforting, but there was a layer of passion, just underneath.
And Jimin felt a hole he never knew he had disappear.
(A/N) Ahhhhh the end! Such a fluffy oneshot i LOVE JIKOOK OK
ALSO special thanks to my babe @yoongsigh for the amazing writing prompt and to the lovely bb @quill-ink for editing this and making it 2356293859857 times better <333 ily guys <3 <3
Reader Imagine: You and Tony are convinced that Steve and Bucky are in love with each other, much to Bucky’s annoyance- who goes out of his way to “prove” he isn’t.
You and Tony were certain of it. Three weeks of watching and documenting, getting F.R.I.D.A.Y. to play back audio records of their wistful conversations- there was not a doubt in your minds.
Steve Rogers and James Buchanan Barnes were in love.
You just had to prove it. Stalking after Bucky down the corridor as he went to meet Steve for their early morning Tuesday training session (you had their schedules committed to memory), you listened attentively as the brunette spoke animatedly on the phone to someone you assumed to be a woman. “Psh,” you spat, “Cover-up.”
Bucky whipped round at the sound and you quickly retreated, sprinting down the corridor, mortified at the possibility of being caught following him. You thought you’d lost him after ten minutes of aimless sprinting and allowed yourself a break, propping yourself up on your knees with the palms of your hands as support after being doubled over for a minute or two- only to find yourself being stared out by none other than the gay man himself.
Jumping up quickly you propped yourself up against the wall nonchalantly, one hand pressed against the cool paint and the other resting on your waist, after a moment or two you pretended to only just notice Bucky who had been staring at you the entire time, now bringing his thumb and forefinger to the bridge of his nose as he shook his head in exasperation, whispering faint exclamations of disbelief. “Oh hey there Bucky.” You smiled cheesily, waving your hand with a bit too much enthusiasm. “I didn’t see you there.”
Bucky groaned and pressed the flat of his hand against his eyeballs, “Are you actually- (Y/N), seriously? I literally watched you- I can’t believe this.” You rocked back and forth on your heels, now bringing both hands to rest on your hips, “Hm?” You hummed in innocence, raising your eyebrows up at him in challenge, refusing to acknowledge he had just caught you stalking him.
Bucky didn’t seem impressed. “Why were you following me?” He asked forcefully, his brow furrowing as he got straight to the point. You smiled widely. “I wasn’t following you Bucky.” You said simply with a shrug, dismissing the idea as fantasy. “Yes you were.” He stated, mirroring your stance in an attempt to dominate.
“No, I wasn’t.”
“Yes you were.”
“But why would I, Bucky? Is this your subconscious wishing that I was?” You teased, wiggling your eyebrows suggestively up at him causing him to throw his hands up in exasperation. He opened his mouth as if to argue the point further, but upon watching you hitch your eyebrows and deepen your smirk, he scowled and padded away.
“Oh, Bucky!” You called after him in a sing-song voice. He didn’t stop walking, his figure retreating around the corner. “I know.” You said ominously, your eyes darkening mischievously as you laid your playing cards on the table. You watched his head pop around the corner, the rest of his torso still concealed behind the wall, giving him the ghoulish quality of a floating head. Fighting the urge to laugh, you kept the smirk firmly plastered on your face.
“Know.. What exactly?” He questioned uneasily, his eyes growing weary. He began moving towards you hesitantly, as if approaching a flighty bird. You examined your nails a moment, revelling in the power you had over him.
“About you and Steve, of course!”
This really threw him through a loop, “What are you talking about?” He cawed, his eyes narrowing and his face scrunching up in confusion. “Know what about me and Steve?”
You smiled devilishly again, “I know what you’ve been up to..” You stated, near to singing the last word in your gleeful mischief. Bucky’s head reared up and whipped from side to side in an unidentifiable emotion. Eventually his spluttering stopped and he looked at you with wide eyes, “What on earth are you talking about, (Y/N)?!” He groaned, tugging at his hair frustratedly. It was at moments like this he really wished he could read your mind, in the two years he’d known you you’d confused him infinitely more than any other person he’d ever met. Your strangeness both appealed to him and freaked him out.
“I know you love each other!” You shouted, throwing your hand in the air, pulling a cluster of confetti from your pocket as you made the declaration. A moment passed.
Two, three moments in silence.
Then Bucky burst into raucous laughter as the confetti settled in his hair, peppering him with an oddly fitting rainbow of colours as you watched on in bemusement. This wasn’t exactly the reaction you and Tony had planned on garnering when proclaiming your knowledge of their intimacies. He would not stop laughing. You joined in after a while, nervous giggles slipping from your lips as you tried to figure out what was so funny.
“You think..” Bucky began after a while, recovering from his eruption of laughter, clutching deftly at a stitch in his ribs. “That me.. And Steve are..” He disintegrated into fits of giggles once more, grabbing onto your shoulder for support. “Are.. Gay?” You finished for him, only adding to the screamed laughter that poured from his lips. You gave him a look that embodied your thoughts of “what the fuck is happening” which he took note of and managed to sober up.
“What made you think that?” He chuckled, swiping at a few stray tears lining his cheeks.
“Well, you’re not denying it, for starters.”
“We aren’t in love.” Bucky stated, then added hastily. “Well, I do love him. But he’s my brother, my oldest and bestest friend. It’s entirely platonic, maybe there was a time when we could have..” He trailed off for a moment then shook his head and returned to the present. “But things change, stuff happens and.. We’re perfect as friends.” He finished with a broad and content smile, beaming at your unimpressed face.
“I don’t buy it.” You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest.
“Because Thursday’s!” You shouted, as if that was all the explanation you needed. Bucky shot you a puzzled look.
“You have sex every Thursday.” You dead panned, hitting him with the facts. Bucky’s face twitched a smile but he didn’t lose it this time. “We train every Thursday.” He corrected you.
“B-but,” you began, stutters lining your voice. “The audios of you two, the moaning, the grunting-”
“Weights.” He said simply by means of explanation.
You narrowed your eyes. “I don’t believe you.” You declared, striding past him and towards Tony’s office to inform him of your findings. Bucky shrugged and walked off with a smile, planning the same with Steve.
It didn’t phase Bucky at first, in fact him and Steve found it quite hilarious. But then he began to notice the watchful and devilish looks Y/N was shooting him every time he was in Steve’s presence. It really began to grate on him, especially when Tony started making his comments.
“I’m going to check up on Steve,” Bucky said, bringing a firm hand down on his thigh as he made to leave the room.
“You sure you aren’t just going to check out Steve?” Tony quipped, not looking up from his device, still tapping away furiously, a faint smile lining his features. Bucky snorted and dismissed the comment, leaping up and going to seek Cap’s company.
Then Sam chimed in.
“I’m his best-friend.” Bucky argued, “We’ve known each other near enough our entire lives and we share a much deeper connection than you do with him!”
“Aw hell no,” Sam said, bringing his fist down on the table with force. “Just ‘cause you’re sleeping together don’t mean you’re his best friend, I mean maybe you do get "deeper” with him than me since I don’t-“
"What the hell, Sam?” Bucky interrupted in horror, the words pouring from his mouth forcing him to picture a disturbing visual. “We’re not sleeping together!” He shouted, almost completely forgetting about his conversation with you, seeing as it had happened over two months prior. Though the thought slowly returned to him as he mulled it over. “What made you think that we were-” Sam perked an eyebrow up at him, his mouth curving into a smile.
“Y/N.” They said in unison. “I’m going to kill her.” Bucky cried, storming out of the room and making a beeline for your room where you were sat innocently reading, before your state of tranquility was disturbed by the harsh knocking of fist against wood, or more precisely- metal against wood. You sighed heavily and hoisted yourself up, barely managing to unlock your door before Bucky barged in, eyes ablaze and fists clenched.
“I’m not fucking gay!” He roared, staring you down. You returned his glare with your own bored, lazy gaze.
“That’s exactly what a closeted gay person would say.” You stated, moving back to resume your position on the bed before Bucky caught ahold of your wrist and spun you round.
“If I was gay,” Bucky huffed, his eyes wild and his hair fanning his face as he breathed heavily. His mind whirring as he contemplated what he was about to do. “Would I do this?”
Your words were quickly silenced by hastily pressed lips against your own, moving ferociously, a hot tongue swiping at your lips as you struggled to process what was happening. The shocked gasp you emitted making entrance for Bucky’s tongue which moved sultrily within you. Roaming hands lit your chest aflame and ignited a passion within you, suddenly you were kissing him back. Your once frozen hands finding the nape of his neck, tying them tightly into the loose strands of his hair that decorated the back of his head. You tugged and pulled when he found a soft spot on your neck, earning moans of approval as you did so, sometimes pulling so hard he emitted a growl that stirred your insides and turned them to mush.
You could feel your feet tripping backwards and then your backside crashed into your writing desk, Bucky soon hoisted you atop it, grabbing you by your thighs and almost throwing you aggressively, grunting as he did so. He peppered your neck with kisses, nibbling at the tender skin and leaving territorial marks. You moaned ever so slightly and pulled back quickly, panting and struggling for breath. “Bucky.” You breathed, wide-eyed and still struggling to process what the fuck had just happened.
But Bucky only smirked and pressed your lips together again and again until you were certain it wasn’t Steve he wanted, but you.
(I’m actually Stucky trash and it was really hard not turning this into a Stucky fic because they actually are in love and you got it right the first time girl)
Bucky laid there, his arms around another woman as she lay there asleep; her head was positioned on his chest as her arms were wrapped around his torso. His fingers were laced in her hair as he continued to soothe her in her sleep as he continued to day dream, thinking about anything and everything.
What was he doing with his life? Sure, having sex with different woman every week was fun. Having new people and new experiences in his bed was much more than he expected, knowing his life in the 40’s would be much more different if he had not gone to war. But he can’t even remember the last time he loved… Or if he has ever even loved before?
Then something clicked in his mind; yes, he loves you. You were on his mind 24/7, through the dawn of morning till the dead of night you never left his thought. But he could understand his own feelings, is it love that he felt for you? Or is it just sexual attraction?
You should do a Percy one with the “why don’t you come over here and make me” thing. You can decide the rest. I would hope it’s shmexy. Danke
A/N- As soon as I read this I was squealing （≧∇≦）I’m trying to change up my writing style and become more descriptive so let me know what you think! Chu~
Cabin Number- C/N
Mortal Parent- M/P
Pancakes are a special treat that you treasure greatly and when someone eats your pancakes things get personal, maybe too personal?
Rated F/M for Fluff&Mature Content
Waking up in your own bed was strange after you’d been sleeping on the top bunk in cabin (C/N). You can’t lie and say that it wasn’t better than lying there staring at the moonlit wooden ceiling for hours while listening to Tae- Your half-brother- hold full conversations in his sleep; His conversations were loud yet funny to listen to at times when your brain would not shut down during the late hours. Fresh air swept through the open windows, the wind picking up the scent of pine and rustling your hair against the pillow.
However this morning was something you missed very much, “Pancakes.” You mumbled as you blearily rubbed the sleep away from your eyes. You let out a sigh of contentment at the smell of your M/P’s homemade pancakes, the scent if home and security from your younger years flashing in your mind. You shifted your curled position towards the window and let a small closed lipped smile spread across your face. This is something that you treasured after every hard summer at camp, training for battle and brushing up the knowledge you had forgotten over the breaks.
The familiar sound of your M/P’s voice calling out your name through the bedroom door which was followed up by a gentle knock on the white painted wood, “Y/n! Pancakes are on the counter when you decide to grace us with your presence.”
You grinned at their usual silliness that you inherited from them, nostalgia washing over you and taking you to a complete state of nirvana solely based on happy childhood memories.
You swung your legs out of the white sheets you’d slept in and let your bare feet hit the cold, dark brown hardwood floor. You winced slightly at the harsh bite of the cold against your warm feet and stood up with a stretch of your arms. You straightened out your black spaghetti tank top and tied the strings of your grey sweats that had come undone while shuffling over to open the door and head to get breakfast. You walked down the sunlit hall to head to the kitchen that still smelled faintly of the bacon and pancakes that was cooked minutes before you’d awoken. You pushed your hair up into a messy bun with a hair bow that always stayed on your wrist and shifted your eyes between the counter with the pancakes and the table where your M/P sat eating some bacon they had snatched up from their plate and checking their emails on their phone.
“Morning, I’m here to grace you with my presence finally.” You said with a smirk and a casual walk towards your beloved pancakes to snatch two from the plate next the stove, pulling a glass plate from the cabinet. You plopped the pancakes on the plate and slid the plate over across the table to sit across from your M/P as they looked up with a grin, “It’s so good to see my little girl under this roof again. Eat up because Percy’s going to be here in a few minutes.”
You stopped pouring syrup over your Golden food and gave your M/P a confused look, “I thought it was just us today? You know, catching up and spending time together…”
“Well something came u-”
“Something always comes up when I come home! It’s like the fates want us to grow apart!”
A stern look appeared on your M/P’s face as they spoke, “Now you know that’s not true, I’m sure the-”
Knock Knock Knock
The sudden sound of a fist hitting wood echoed through the home and stopped your bickering. Your M/P stood up and straightened out their work clothes before striding over to the door to let the visitor in.
You rubbed your temples in frustration, the happiness achieved earlier had now been replaced by the sheer frustration of how cruel life is being to you; 3 months away from home without any contact, surrounded by demigods and going out to face dangerous monsters. This is how you’re rewarded.
Percy’s greeting could be heard from your seat at the table, your heart thumping and leaping at the sound of his cheery voice. Although you felt happy to have him here you just couldn’t help your bad mood.
A kiss found it’s way on your left temple, “Hello sleeping beauty~” His smooth voice seemed to lift not only your head to look at his figure, but your spirits as well. Your eyes raked over his tall stature in a observant way.
He was wearing some black sweats, a plain red t-shirt, and some black converses to match it all in some boyish way of fashion. His ebony black hair was a little more messed up than usual due to lack of combing, and his sea-green eyes held a sleepy look that screamed that he was just as tired as you and probably woke up minutes ago.
“Obviously checking out the merchandise.” He said, snapping you away from your observing, “Take a picture if I’m that hot.”
You glared at him, silently challenging him with your eyes, “Maybe I will. This probably be the last time you look good for a long time.”
Your M/P chuckled at Percy’s dropped jaw and waved their hand to gain attention,“ I’ll just grab my keys right quick and I’ll be gone. No funny business while I’m gone..”
You nodded at their words and stood up to kiss Percy, the pancakes long forgotten along with your hunger. You leaned on your tippy-ties and kissed his now pouting lips slowly. Smiling at him and tugging on his hand to follow you to the living room to sit on the couch.
You found a seat on the tan sectional couch, followed up by Percy sitting down beside you and pulling you into a cuddle. A shuffling and clicking of shoes was heard behind you while you two cuddled close,“Bye guys! I’ll be back around 6 tonight, order some Chinese if you need something to eat.” Your M/P called out from near the door,“ Love you!”
The door shut behind them, leaving you and your boyfriend in the house.
It’s not like you’d never been alone with Percy before, I mean you two go on dates and missions together all the time. It’s just that this time felt different… Maybe it’s just that it’s a house you live in and anything could happen. Percy leans forward to pick up the remote and turn on the tv in front of you both, flipping through the channels until he was satisfied with a comedy sitcom. You sighed and cuddled into him a little more than you already were, “Will you be okay while I shower right quick?”
Percy turned his attention from the Tv to you, “Yeah I’ll be okay.. But I could always join you instead” He said with a stupid smug look on his face. You rolled your eyes and pushed off the couch to stand up,“Yeah okay.” Percy’s head shot up along with his eyes widening,“R-Really?” He stuttered in shock, you’d never said that before.
“No you moron!” You yelled with a following laugh. You shook your head and walked to your room the pick out your clothes before heading to the bathroom for a shower.
Percy let out an annoyed groan and slumped back down the couch, pulling a fluffy fur cover off the back of the couch and covering himself in it. It was very nice to just relax again and not have to worry about monsters and wars for once, to at least try to feel normal was a favorite by most demigods including himself at times. Although for now he just wanted to spend time with his girlfriend, to watch movies, make memories, crack jokes, and touch you.
He’d be lying to himself if he didn’t say that he- like every guy- has urges. He mostly refrained during camp and missions, taking care of things himself like he usually does. There were times where you two were intimate, but only two or three times in with span of the two years you’d been together. Most guys wouldn’t be down for that kind of relationship with that low of a sex life, but Percy wasn’t in it just for sex, he was in it because he loved you.
You stepped out of the shower, wrapped a towel around your body and immediately went to brush your teeth and brush your hair. After your mouth tasted like mint instead of morning breath and your hair was brushed and pulled up in a bun once more, you decided to pull on your clothes. You decided on wearing a light blue t-shirt with black writing that said, “It is what it is” which matched well with black leggings you wore. Finally satisfied with your look of bare face and comfortable clothing, you stepped out to face your boyfriend.
You stepped into the living room only to met with the sound of Who Framed Roger the Rabbit being played on TV. You furrowed your brows and stepped warily to the kitchen where he stood at the counter with a smile.
He was eating your pancakes.
“What the Hades! Percy those are mine, my M/P made them for me!” You whined like a small child who has gotten her toy taken away. Percy chuckled and raised an eyebrow at you as if to challenge you, “Who said they were for you? He/She could have made them for me and not told you.” You let out a groan of irritation and pointed your index finger at him with a fixed glare on him,“ Put. Those. Down.” He stared at you, feigning an innocent look while taking a huge chunk of the golden food and shoving it his mouth, “ Why don’t you come over here and make me?”
You marched over and grabbed the plate from his grip before angrily slamming it on the counter. Percy chuckled and fought to keep the grin from stretching across his face, you were cute when mad… But if you’re furious that’s when you’d be more scary than cute. You shoved him down to the floor and straddled him and held his wrists down above his head, “Those were my pancakes, Jackson.” You growled at him, unknowingly pushing your clothed heat against his groin. Percy let out a small moan at this pressure against him, which made you aware of your actions. With a devilish smirk you grind your hips down on his to create a friction for the both of you,“What’s wrong?” You ask when you see his eyes close in bliss, your voice sickly sweet.
To tease a little more you let go of his wrists and got off of him, deciding that if he wanted you then he’d chase after you. Percy sat up quickly and looked after your sauntering form retreating from him, “Hold on, where are you going?” He questioned while standing up, obviously turned on. You glanced at him over your shoulder and kept walking until you got to the point where he couldn’t see you anymore if you continued on,“I’m going to bed now because I want to. Is there a problem?” You smirked at him once more just to gauge his reaction. Percy shook his head and started waking towards you, “The only problem is that you’re a tease and being really mean on purpose. I want to spend time with you and that’s that.” He stopped a few feet away from you and gave you a stern look, him being turned on obvious because of his tent in his sweat pants. A mischievous glint gleamed in your e/c eyes.
“Why don’t you come over here and make me?”
That sentence was enough confirmation for him to charge towards you, you barely catching the dark lust in his eyes before you were swung over his shoulder and carried to your room. You hardly had any time to register the fact that you were about to have sex with your boyfriend for the first time since the end of last summer. You wished you two could be intimate more often, but sadly it was nearly impossible at camp and here at home. It was either parents or monsters always interrupting the mood with their presence and finally there was no one to stop either of you.
Percy laid you down on your bed and crawled on top of you, his right arm holding up his weight on the left of side you. His slowly dropped his mouth to yours and capture your lips in a gentle yet heated kiss, just enjoying the feeling of his lips against yours. With his free hand he softly traced along the inside of your thigh, slowly closing in on its true target. You felt a trickle of arousal start to pool between your thighs at his featherlight touches, trying to distract yourself from that fact by threading your fingers through his messy locks and pushing your breasts against his chest which made him growl into the kiss and slid his tongue teasingly on your bottom lip before biting it tenderly. You moaned at the teasing move and let Percy slip his tongue in your mouth and tangle with yours.
Your mind was racing with a constant monologue of, “Ohmygodsthisishappeningwhatthehadesrespondtohimyouidiot” and your heart was creating a gymnastics routine in your chest. Your need for oxygen getting close and more desperate than your need to be touched.
Percy must’ve sensed that because not even a few seconds later he pulled away from your lips and tugged your shirt over your head, throwing it over his shoulder and behind him. He brought his lips down your jaw line, your neck, your collarbone. He slowly sucked your skin, licking the bruises he knew he was leaving behind. You bit your lip in effort to suppress an airy moan, hands snaking up to rub his shoulders and neck as the muscles beneath as they tensed beneath your touch. Percy lifted his head to admire the purple forming across every place his mouth touched on your smooth skin. His usual welcoming sea green eyes now seemed like a dark hurricane boring straight into your very own e/c eyes with lust and want.
You bit the corner of your lip and let your eyes flick down to his clothed chest, tugging on the materiel and slipping your hand underneath to feel his toned chest beneath your digits. Taking the hint that you wanted his shirt gone, he threw it away to join your own somewhere, leaving him exposed to you. You stared in awe of his body before you got desperate to see it all, It had been too long since you’d seen him fully exposed. Your hands clumsily fiddled with the string tie of his sweats and pulling them down quickly to reveal his strained, grey boxers.
You eyed his erection greedily until a chuckle made your gaze snap up to Percy’s face where a smile adorned his lips before he started to hook his fingers in your black leggings and tug then down, “Now were fair and square.” He commented quietly, taking in your matching set of lacy nude and royal blue undies and taking a particular liking to the thong you sported. He carefully crawled back on top of you, making sure you weren’t being crushed by himself. Looking down at you, Percy bit his lip and smiled slightly, “You look so sexy, babe,” He dipped his head and planted a kiss on your lips, “I love you.” He reached behind you and removed your bra.
“I love yo- AHH~!” You moaned loudly as his perfect lips wrapped around your nipple and that sinfully skilled tongue flicked over it. His fingers started playing with the other one, and you moaned out his name. A shiver ran down his spine when he heard his name come out as a moan, and it made him harder.
You could feel it.
His erection pressing against your thigh and nearing your heart with every little move of his body. You needing bucked up your hips against his with a small whine leaving your lips. Percy groaned and decided to get straight to it all seeing as he wouldn’t make it for too long. He lifted his lips from your nipple and brought his lips to your mouth, his tongue meshing with yours. Once oxygen was becoming a problem, he pulled away and trailed wet, open mouthed kisses down your abdomen and down your panties. A sweet moan dripped from your lips and sounded like bells from Elysium had just rung in his ears. He kissed over your needy and clothed core before hooking his teeth around the strap line and dragging them off with his teeth. You gasped and almost screamed out when his tongue suddenly flicked over your clit. You bucked your hips unintentionally as he pushed his tongue into you. You gave up trying to suppress your moans as he rubbed his tongue all around inside you, lapping up all of your juices. He retracted his face from between your legs and returned his attention to your aching nipples. You were in sensory overload and were a complete moaning mess.
Then his finger suddenly breached your entrance.
You screamed in pleasure and bucked your hips every time he slowly thrusted in. Then he added a second finger, but moved even slower, seeing the discomfort on your face. Then, when you had adjusted, he added a third. You were quickly becoming a mess.
Percy looked up at your face to try to read your feelings, but alas your face was a mixed emotion of pleasure and discomfort. It had been sometime since you were active so he understood and continued on slowly until your voice moaning out his name was ringing throughout the room. He quickly discarded his boxers and crawled back up to be face to face with you.
His face hovered over yours for a second. “Are you ready?” You nodded quickly, and after grabbing a condom from your beside drawer and slipping it on, he positioned himself at your entrance. Then, the one thing you had been waiting for, the one thing you had been craving began to slowly push inside your body.
He moaned out, “Schist , baby. You’re so tight. You feel so good. You’re so perfect.” His words were music to your ears.
You closed your eyes in concentration and tried to adjust to the feeling of him inside of you, to be completely honest, it hurt.
Noticing your change almost immediately, Percy was quick to check on you, “Are you okay?” His voice genuinely concerned.
You nodded and murmured a quiet, “Go ahead,” to him as consent.
“Babe…____ we can stop if you want,” He caressed the side of your face, “Do you want to keep going?” You nodded sharply. He hesitated for a moment and continued slowly until he was hilt deep.
You two stayed in that position for what seemed like hours. He kissed you everywhere his mouth could reach to try to take your mind off the pain. Slowly but surely, the pain turned into a dull ache, and you said you were ready.
Percy brought his lips back to yours and you allowed his tongue to enter. Then, he slowly started moving out and back in. It took a few gentle thrusts, but eventually your pained moans turned into pleasured ones. You wrapped your arms around his neck and deepened the kiss as he started thrusting faster and faster. He suddenly hit one spot and you screamed out, “There! Shit right there, Percy!” You were moaning loudly and screaming out his name as he hit that spot over and over again. You clawed at his back leaving red marks, but you didn’t care. And you knew he didn’t either.
Then you hit your climax. You screamed out his name again, and he moaned yours out loudly as your walls squeezed tightly around his member, and he reached his climax and came. He continued to thrust into you as he rode out his orgasm, and then collapsed on top of you.
He rolled off the condom and disposed of it in the trash before crawling back onto the bed with you. Sweaty bodies cuddled up together and pants mixing in with the others.
Percy stroked the side if your face, sweeping back stray hairs as he did, “Are you okay? I know it’s not your first time, but you still had me worried about you…” He admitted.
Your eyes sleepily opened to meet his in what felt like a daze, “
It’s been a while since I’ve been touched so of course it’s gonna hurt similar to the first time.” Percy nodded understandingly, yet his face still held worry. Typical Perseus Jackson.
You lightly pinched his arm, making him yelp and glare at you, “Why’d you do that?” He whined.
You grinned at his cuteness and closed your eyes, drifting off as you answered,
Dedicated to my BFF Haley aka @iconangel cause she is Isaac Lahey trash and it’s also almost her birthday so this is my gift to her! I’m posting this here cause I really have nowhere else to put it and I don’t want to stick it on my regular blog but it’s teen wolf related so this works right? Oh well. I hope you like it Haley ILYSM!!!
sighed as you slumped into your seat in Chemistry class. You were
exhausted from all the drama going down with your friends and their
“wolfy” problems. You were up late the night before on the phone
with Allison as she gave you a rundown about the situation with Isaac
and the twins. Isaac was hellbent on revenge, and Scott was trying to
make him see reason. Which was why you currently felt like you could
cut the tension in the room with a knife. You glanced over at Scott,
his brow furrowed as he stared at the back of Isaac’s head. The
taller boy was gripping the sides of his desk so hard his knuckles
NO, I WON’T GIVE IN, I WON’T GIVE IN UNTIL I’M VICTORIOUS! AND I WILL
DEFEND, I WILL DEFEND! AND I’LL DO WHAT I MUST! NO I WON’T GIVE IN, I
WON’T GIVE IN! OH SO GLORIOUS UNTIL THE END, UNTIL THE END!”
It was 2am and I was on hour one of singing my ass off to annoy
Wrestling songs now?” Each time he spoke I could hear the annoyance
in his voice grow. He was trying to sleep and I was singing like I
was on Broadway. It had been a few weeks since I died and my endless
torture of the werewolf began. So far I had managed to get a few
reactions out of him in public. My personal favorite was making him
yell shut up in the middle of his crowded gym when I started quoting
random movies. “Bring it On” was the breaking point. Now,
it was the middle of the night and my irritation continued.
sexy, slinky thing, power over all with the love you bring. Spinning
from your mind control, shuffling around this deep, deep hole. All I
ever really want, I never get it. All I ever really thought I never
said it. Dull myself on whiskey and wine just to forget it. Baby I
won’t leave you alone!”
changed the last line for extra flare.
my God,” he grunted out, “I wish I could bring you back to life
and murder you again.”
kastle halloween gift exchange: reunited after a long time for @thekastlediaries! This was going to be an actual and legit fic, but I panicked and couldn’t get it done in time for the deadline :D so it’s a drabble :D Happy Kastleween.!!
She feels bad for her lack of enthusiasm, but she’s been falling through like this for every passing holiday over the last year and a half. If her family was too busy being a family, back home, for her to feel disruptive calling in to pretend she wasn’t lonely and always tinged with a little bit of fear. If Matt couldn’t put down his … sticks and his masks and his ego for just a few moments to remember that there were people in the world, in the real world without the flames of hell’s kitchen and his growing list of super friends. If Foggy was too busy with work or with Marci or with both of them simultaneously, to give her a ring or a text about getting together. She felt a lack of energy to pretend away the day. After all, tracking down, following, and collecting information from sketchy sources and an abundance of overnight research on all of the wicked dark deeds of the baddest of the bad in Hell’s Kitchen was a lot of work. A lot of herself expunged throughout the days and nights.
So, she’d gotten through the work she’d wanted to (there were rumblings of the Russians trying to find their way out of the graves Vladamir and brother had found themselves in and rise back up) – wrapped alone in her office that she didn’t really deserve, with the purple string of lights the front receptionist had hung throughout the Bulletin casting a ominous hue over the files on her desk, all day. She’d bypassed all of her coworkers and Ellison in their ironic or silly or ‘scary’ costumes
(she’d seen far scarier things in her life, real things) and the bowl of candy set out by the front door for children who happened to stop inside and made her escape. She’d watched through the taxi window as they drove by the hoards of people taking to the pavement. The streets had been lined with excitement rarely felt in this part of the city, as of late. Kids bundled up in ugly polyester superhero capes and plastic werewolf masks they couldn’t breathe through – parents trudging along behind them yelling at them to slow down and wait for crossing. She’d passed teenagers doused in fake blood (not real, not real, not real for a long time), talking about how they could manage to sneak into the major parties of the night and Karen couldn’t believe, with the current state of the Kitchen, that parents would dare let them travel the streets so alone.
Eventually she’d made it into the familiar of her own apartment and thrown the couple of bags of candy she’d bought on the way home, on the table by the front door, along with her keys. Without Foggy around or Matt or anyone else she knew, she could allow her lack of enthusiasm. She could remember last Christmas and Matt’s need for a dramatic bombshell present instead of, say, some nice candles. She could remember this past St. Patrick’s Day and Foggy heading home with Marci before the night had even done. And so, she stopped pretending this was any different, turned on the television, ordered a pizza, and answered the door with each knock of little fists against wood.
And that’s where she’d been for the past hour – opening the door to little kids, smiling softly, and tossing pieces of candy into open pillow cases.
Karen reached out to pull the door open for the billionth time that night, bag of kisses clutched in hand, to her next visitor in the hallway. Her eyes traveled upwards, from where the children normally rose, over combat boots and black beaten gear. Past the haphazard spray of a white skull and up through the cuts on the top lip and eyebrow. No polyester. No masks. But, blood. Real, real, real. It’s been so long since real, real, real blood. She’s tried to avoid it. Tried to keep her promise. Only speaking his name or paying him any mind when Ellison had her on a story where she had to let him occupy space in her mind for a moment.
“Great costume,” Karen stared blindly, her voice carefully and thoughtfully dead of emotion. Frank did nothing but stare back, the tip of a word somewhere in his eyes. “So lifelike,” Karen continued. “The blood almost looks real.”
Karen grabs at a kiss and places it in his hand, before moving to close the door, “Happy Halloween.”
“–Karen,” Frank’s foot presses out to stop it from closing. It wouldn’t do well for her neighbors to notice that The Punisher on her doorstep wasn’t just a really fantastic Halloween costume, but the real thing. She’d already seen a few of them, little kid versions, walking around with little kid Spiderman’s and little kid Black Widows. The world they live in – she doesn’t know what her dad would say. And Karen feels like a fool when she does nothing but sigh, shake her head a little, and let him inside.
Forgotten masterpiece: Complete original art
for “New Orleans!”
by Wally Wood (art) and Harvey Kurtzman (story) from Two-Fisted Tales #35, the classic Civil War issue, published by EC Comics, October 1953.
A/N I tried. I hope this is alright and not many spelling errors. If there are just let me know. My head feels like jelly.
“Are you kidding me?” Castiel whispered under his breath. Can this thing go any slower? Every week there was one day when Castiel did his laundry at the local Laundromat. Usually he chose the day with only morning classes so after school, he could just pick up his laundry and bring it to the Laundromat. Last week he didn’t have any time and this week was no different. He had piles of homework waiting for him in his dorm room as the exams were coming up.
Today he had no choice but doing his laundry, he was running out of clean clothes. He noticed more people had the same issue, because there were a lot of people the Laundromat, every washing machine was occupied. People were even waiting in line, it usually wasn’t busy at all.
20 minutes left, the red letters on the washing machine told Castiel. What did he expect? He just put it in. The woman next to him, grabbed her clothes out of the machine, put in a basket and walked away. The scent of fresh laundry hit him as she walked past him.
A man quickly took her place and opened the flap on top of the machine. Castiel studied him, he had nothing better to do anyways. The man was a bit taller than him with big defined muscle you could clearly see through the black T-shirt he was wearing. Castiel’s eyes roamed his heavenly body and ended up looking at his face.
Taehyung had no inkling of where his friends were taking him, other than the fact that Jimin had blindfolded him with an old t-shirt once they got in the car. He could hear the conversations between his members, and the music blaring through the speakers, but none of the words he heard gave him a clue as to where they were headed. They had wanted to surprise him, claiming “It’s for your own good,” and leaving it at that.
Description: Toph and Lin return to Republic City to find things are not as they left them.
Read It on FF.net Author’s Note: I am really sorry this has taken so long. I had more planned for this chapter, but I wanted to get this part out finally and rhoeysama‘s visit has inspired me to do so - it has been sitting on my laptop for well over a year! Hopefully publishing this will motivate me to finish it out. Thanks for your patience and again I am so so so sorry for what you are about to read.
“Final stop! Republic City!” the porter’s voice cried
out, jolting Lin awake.
Lin’s head popped up from her mother’s lap so suddenly that
she nearly banged Toph’s chin. It was close enough for her mother to feel the
breeze of it and Toph gasped, “Careful there, baby girl.”
“Sounds like it,” Toph nodded, standing.
Lin rubbed her eyes and stretched, catching the setting sun as it glinted
through the station windows.
It was dusk, Monday evening rush hour was just taking hold and the station was
alive with commuters all bustling about with different destinations in mind. In
this moment, seeing all the people in their smart hats and tailored clothing,
babbling on in their Republic City slang, Lin wondered why they would want to
be headed anywhere else.
“It’s good to be home,” she sighed, pulling her bag from its compartment.
Show: SnK/ACWNR (set
shortly after Isabelle and Farlan’s death)
She feels guilty, almost, for seeing him like this and for a moment she considers walking away, leaving him be, and then the thunder booms beyond his shutters and the wood rattles and Levi fists the bed clothes hard enough to tear the fabric and she’s knocking on the door before she can tell herself not to.
thirty days iwaoi writing challenge day eighteen: hide and seek
Oikawa did punishment well. He knew which buttons to press when it came to certain people, and he had an art for subtlety most would not have guessed he possessed.
But finding Iwaizumi’s weak spots took him years of experimentation to discover, and after a particular week in middle school when he’d tried to ignore the boy for something or other but discovered that Iwaizumi actually liked it, he’d realized the perfect punishment wasn’t to deny him his company, but to be even more annoying than he was on a daily basis. So he took things.