#ALSO THAT FUCKING LITTLE TWINK i need to crush him with my fist

[whydoeseveryonehavetobelesbian]

finished she who became the sun IM CRAZY! im crazy im insane this is crazy... her unquenchable thirst for power and greatness and her feminist lesbian tendencies have captivated me... truly the savior of a nation

[cinnaminsvga]

Dumbo | Jungkook (M)

→ summary: you know what they say about boys with big noses...

{or alternatively: jungkook has a big dick but he doesn’t know how to use it, but luckily you’re there to help.}

→ genre: humor/crack, smut → warnings: they talk about dicks a lot (i.e. jungkook has a big dick), DICK MEASURING CONTESTS (aka jk gets his dick appraised... just boys bein’ boys), explicit sexual content, semi-public exhibitionism, handjobs, blowjobs, sub!jungkook, whining, light dirty talk, mild pain play, mutual masturbation, jungkook has piercings, accidental edging (you’ll... understand), oc doesn’t have a gag reflex lol → words: 17.2K → a/n: @jincherie... you are my enabler and i will die on this hill only if you die on it with me. but of course i know you will die with me. because we only have one braincell and if either of us die, we both do. thank you for commissioning me to write this btw... even though i was already writing this so you just basically sent me money for free. ANYWAY... WORLD IS FUCK BUT I LOVE RHA!! ALSO JUNGKOOK HAS A BIG DICK!! EPIC!!

The club lights make it difficult for Jungkook to see anything. He doesn’t understand why club owners can’t just jack up the lighting for once; it isn’t like you’re going to be able to find a hook-up through echolocation or something. Though, judging by the way people seem to be groping their way through the masses, perhaps there really is no need for illumination anyway.

Jungkook normally hates this kind of scene. Drinking is all good and fun, especially when he’s with his hyungs, but going to overly crowded places makes his skin crawl with anxiety. It takes almost three shots during pre-game for him to get anywhere near this kind of place and it’s all thanks to Seokjin. That hyung thrives in these kinds of environments, like a clipped butterfly relearning how to fly.

“I’m gonna get shit fucked wasted!” Seokjin hollers, his arm looped carelessly around the only other person who hates being here as much as Jungkook does. He watches passively as Yoongi tries to bite a chunk off of Seokjin’s hand, but despite his inebriation, their eldest hyung is able to dodge it quickly.

“Not before I kill you, then everyone else in this place, and then myself, first.” Yoongi growls, nudging Seokjin off his smaller frame. If the world hadn’t been swaying underneath Jungkook’s feet, he might have offered to help his small hyung do the deed. If there’s anyone who hates nightclubs more than Jungkook, it’s Yoongi. Jungkook is frightened to know how Seokjin managed to convince Yoongi in the first place, and he’d prefer not to find out what sort of terrible blackmail the elder must have under his sleeve to accomplish such an arduous feat.

Just as Yoongi is about to connect his steel-toed boot up Seokjin’s freshly bleached asshole, Jimin returns from the bar with three glasses held precariously in each of his fists. Jungkook wonders yet again how this is possible due to the sheer tininess of Jimin’s hands, but then again... What can’t Jimin do when it comes to alcohol?

“I’m back! Here you go, Jungkookie,” Jimin says, seamlessly handing Jungkook a glass of what he hopes is just a regular beer like he asked. Knowing Jimin, he probably ordered the strongest shit they have. He peers at it suspiciously, but it only takes half a sip for Jungkook to confirm his guess. He grimaces, nearly coughing out a lung at the strength of the poison running down his throat.

“That tasted like fucking metal polish! What the fuck, Jimin?”

“I know! It’s great isn’t it?” Jimin smiles angelically, handing Yoongi one of the drinks. Yoongi looks at the swirling piss-yellow liquid as if it holds the secrets to the universe. It appears as if he’s decided something when his eyes light up.

“Oh my god, this drink is gonna kill me,” he says, not an ounce of fear in his voice. Jimin nods, not even trying to hide his deception.

“I promised the bartender a blowie if he could give me the strongest shit they had,” Jimin shrugs. “Dude literally went to the back room and took out this bottle that looked like it came from Napoleon’s secret stash of hooker piss.” He sniffs the drinks thoughtfully. “Yea, I could believe that.”

“I hate this!” Jungkook cries at no one in particular.

“Tough shit! We’re in this together!” Yoongi groans, downing the entire contents of his drink in one go before promptly being swallowed whole by the crowd. Seokjin hoots, hastily waving goodbye to Jungkook and Jimin before following Yoongi and diving into the sweaty masses like a seasoned Olympian.

“I hope they don’t die like last time,” Jungkook sighs, forcing himself to take a big gulp of his drink. It sears against his throat like a brand, which probably has an inscription saying “Jeon Jungkook has bad taste in friends.”

Jimin shrugs his shoulders. “Well, like Namjoon said a while ago, we’re gonna meet by the bar in 2 hours to check if everyone is still alive and we’ll find out then. Okay, Kook?”

Jimin has reminded him of this for the umpteenth time, though he can’t blame him for being extra careful. Last time the whole gang went to the club, Hoseok had gotten stuck in an elevator at his hook-up’s place and had cried for 5 hours straight before one of them thought to look for him. The time before that, Taehyung had ingested two times his bodyweight of margaritas and he had found himself in Japan the next morning with an extra $500 in his pocket.

Yeah. They’re idiots, but at least they’re idiots who will try not to make the same mistakes as last time. Key word being “try.”

Jungkook looks around the club, but he can’t find any awkward looking lanky people anywhere. “Where is Namjoon-hyung, by the way? Haven’t seen him since we split up.”

“Who the hell knows?” Jimin laughs, the sound drowning out when the DJ suddenly decides to play a death metal version of Dance the Night Away by Twice. Jimin’s eyes light up. “Ooooh shit! This is my song! See ya later, Kook!”

“W-wait, those drinks! Aren’t they for the others––“

“Bitch, you think these are for them?” Jimin begins to double fist his alcohol with the thirstiness of a man in a desert, or a twink confronted with two dicks. Either or.

To Jungkook’s horror, the crowd has seemingly grown thrice in size since they’ve arrived and he watches as Jimin’s body is slowly getting consumed by the masses, though he doesn’t seem bothered in the slightest. He leans into a random guy's back, a look of bliss on his face. He salutes lazily at Jungkook. “Anyway. See you in 2 hours, Kook! Try to have fun!”

Try to have fun, his ass.

Unlike Jimin, Jungkook doesn’t particularly feel like being crushed by sweaty hormonal bodies; instead, he chooses to head to the bar. He surreptitiously dumps his drink into the trash, feeling kind of bad for discarding a free drink, but Jungkook doesn’t want to get shit-fucked wasted like the rest of them are. Perhaps he’ll be the designated driver today, even though his vision is still kind of swimming. Well, he could probably walk in a straight line if he used all his brainpower. Which isn’t a lot, but you know. People learn to make do.

It takes him a while to find an empty stool by the bar and he is unlucky enough to be squished between two couples who don’t seem to be aware that public indecency is a crime. He has to endure being jostled for five minutes straight until the bartender finally notices him and allow him to order his can of coke.

(“Sorry, kid. The banana milk is all sold out. Some girl ordered our entire stock for her friends a few hours ago.” And just like that, Jungkook wants to die all over again.)

He does not know for how long he sits by the bar. Well, that’s a blatant lie, because he knows that he’s been sitting there for 18 minutes and 34 seconds exactly. He’s checked his phone religiously every 2 minutes to see if 2 hours have passed already, just so he can ask one of his stupid friends to go home with him. Perhaps he could coerce Jimin into turning in early for once (which is a pipedream, not when the DJ seems adamant to play Jimin’s favorite Christina Aguilera song 70 times in a row.)

So in short, Jungkook is miserable. He could go home by himself, but also he doesn’t want to end up having to walk to the police station the next morning to bail his friends out after one of them inevitably destroys public property again.

Fuck. Maybe he shouldn’t have thrown away his other drink.

He’s so deep in his thoughts that he doesn’t notice that one of the couples beside him have already left and that another person has taken their spot. He is jarred from his musings when a well-manicured hand is placed delicately on his shoulder, urging him to swivel the barstool around to face his soon-to-be acquaintance.

“Hey,” you say, a sultry smile on your lips. Jungkook feels his mouth immediately fill with cotton as he stares at your beautiful face, the dingy lighting of the club doing nothing to suppress the wicked glint in your eyes.

“Uhh… hey?” Jungkook replies, as charming and verbose as ever. If it isn’t obvious enough, Jungkook is a little lacking in the girls department, or at least, when it comes to girls-who-are-blatantly-flirting with him department. He normally isn’t this socially inept around the opposite gender, but given the connotations of this circumstance, his overactive male brain can only be restrained so much before it starts wandering towards dangerous territory.

It doesn’t help that the neckline of your dress is bordering on obscene, and Jungkook is afraid that if you move one more inch towards him, something very embarrassing might happen to the both of you (probably more so for him, if he’s being quite honest.)

“I couldn’t help but notice you from across the club and thought I should introduce myself,” you explain, gaze unashamedly trailing down his body. Jungkook can feel the heat from you radiating in waves, burning him from the inside out as he tries not to melt into a puddle in a pathetic attempt to get the fuck out of there.

“You saw me? But it’s… so dark in here…” Jungkook wants to fucking murder himself. That’s what he decides to say to you? God, no fucking wonder he’s a virgin. Good looks really aren’t everything when he doesn’t have a brain controlling the rest of his body. There might as well be a fucking hamster running laps inside of his skull for all he knew.

Thankfully (or unthankfully––God knows Jungkook’s stress levels aren’t lowering any time soon), you find his response funny enough to warrant a chuckle. You bat your eyes salaciously at him, which Jungkook didn’t even think was possible. People can be sexy? When they blink? Apparently, you can do that.

You shrug your shoulders. “That’s true. You caught me in a lie, I suppose. I actually knew you were coming even before you arrived.”

Jungkook chokes on his own spit then, nearly spraying you with his saliva like the dog that he is. His eyes bug out of his sockets, his body going tense with nerves. "You... you knew? What... What does that even mean?"

You point over your shoulder, gesturing vaguely at the crowd on the dance floor. "I'm friends with Seokjin over there. He mentioned you were coming with him to the club tonight so I decided to tag along."

"You know Seokjin-hyung?" The alarm bells in Jungkook's head start ringing wildly out of control. Nothing good ever comes out of being friends with Seokjin, especially since his presence alone has the power to make the creases in your brain to smoothen. Take it from someone who's been there, done that.

"Yep," you say, popping your 'p.' "I met him in my first-year English course, though I still don't know why a third-year like him was taking it in the first place."

"It's because he doesn't know how to read," Jungkook says plainly.

"I can tell. He uses voice-to-text exclusively and Siri can never spell Asian names correctly," you shrug your shoulders. "Either that, or he just doesn't know how to spell your name."

"Yea. I'm permanently John Jung Cock on his phone," Jungkook replies. He shakes his head. "Hold on, we were talking about something before this."

"Oh. About how I casually revealed to you that I was stalking you through our mutually insane friend?"

"Y-Yea, basically." Jungkook doesn't even understand what the fuck is happening right now. "I mean! Not exactly? Like, for all I know, you could've just asked hyung who he was coming with and he mentioned my name and––"

"Listen, kid. I straight up just told you I'm stalking you. Let's skip the foreplay and get to the meat of it: I'm literally following you," you say, without an inch of regret, embarrassment, or morality in your tone of voice.

Jungkook, who despite being filled with so much fear and tension enough to kill the small hamster inside his brain, is somehow able to keep his calm in front of the psychopath in front of him. Either that, or he's already in the middle of a stroke and he's lost all his fine motor skills.

"I... I don't know what to say."

"You don't need to say anything, baby," you murmur, leaning even closer to him until your chest was practically pressed against his. The thin layer of your dress and his well-worn cotton tee does nothing to help the situation (both in general and the one in his pants). He can feel your every curve, can smell the sweet perfume you're wearing; you were enveloping his senses. If he tried hard enough, he could probably count your eyelashes if he so desired with how close you were.

He knows he should probably be running away in terror right now, but he finds himself stuck resolutely to the barstool, unable to move. Maybe Jimin was right... Maybe he did have a fear kink or something.

("Isn't that just called masochism?" Jungkook asks, brows raised.

Jimin only laughs, patting him on the back condescendingly. "Nah, dude. You just straight up wanna die by the hands of a hot person, and I can respect that homie. We all have been there.")

“W-what do you want from me?” Jungkook asks, sweat lining his brow. You’re still looking at him like he was a meal, but he finds he probably doesn’t mind being devoured by you.

Your wicked grin returns, full force. “I just want to play, Jungkook. But why don’t we discuss this… somewhere more private?”

Thunk. Was that the sound of his heart dropping out of his ass, or his brain pressing against the left side of his skull, or his dick hitting the roof? Jungkook isn’t sure, but he does know he wants to see where this night will take him.

He lets you lead the way, squeezing through sweaty bodies and elbowing a stray hand or two. Jungkook swears he feels a guy grope him on the way out, but before he can even sock the guy in the jaw, you’re already one step ahead of him. You hiss menacingly at the dudebro, raising your long acrylic nails in a show of dominance like you’re from some wildlife documentary. The guy audibly whines, running away from the two of you with his tail between his legs.

Jungkook stares at you incredulously. “How the fuck did you––”

“I’ve gone to tango classes with that dude. I have his mom’s phone number,” you explain nonchalantly. Instantly, Jungkook feels himself hardening in his pants.

You manage to get to where the washroom stalls are. You brazenly walk past the line of girls at the women’s section, but Jungkook is even more confused when you also pass by the men’s section. You turn the corner, where a bunch of tables and chairs were being kept. Then, you begin to knock down some of the extra chairs stacked against the wall, which is where Jungkook discovers there is an unused wheelchair accessible washroom.

“Why is this washroom being kept hidden?” he wonders aloud, sneaking guilty looks over his shoulder. No one seems to have noticed that the two of you are blatantly trespassing property, but you don’t look all that stressed about it.

You look at him weirdly. “Dude. You can barely walk in this club without getting groped, poked, or doped. As much as I’m all for accessibility, I don’t think wheelchair-bound people are gonna have much of a good time here.”

Jungkook feels as though he should be saying something profound about the need for establishments to be accessible or something, but the strain in his pants really wasn’t doing many wonders on his verbosity right now. Maybe next time.

You make quick work of the barricade and you get the door open in no time. You push him hastily inside, making him yelp as he tries to find his way around the darkened room. You flip the switch on somewhere behind him, illuminating the washroom to find… a toilet. That’s it.

“Well, they certainly didn’t think about interior decorating,” Jungkook says, laughing nervously as you click the door locked. He turns, watching as you pull the black elastic that was on your wrist and begin to tie your hair. You smile cheekily at him, the implications of what is about to happen very much apparent.

“Nah, they didn’t. But the room gets the job done and that’s all we want, don’t we?” You purr, taking the two short steps you need to get close to him once more. You trail a well-manicured nail down his chest, circling around his nipple teasingly but not doing anything more. His breathing turns more shallow, and he knows for sure that his eyes must look crazed to you right now.

You bring your finger lower and lower, grazing the top of his belt buckle and staying there. You look up at him, licking your lips as your gaze trails down to his own. Once again, he feels paralyzed as you take him in and he wishes for all the horny gods from above that you would finally end the torture and finally close the distance.

Taking some pity on him, you rest your lips against his throat, suckling gently enough that Jungkook knows it won’t leave a mark. His hands instantly come up to grab your waist, as if urging you to go harder, to make it hurt.

You smirk against his skin, deciding at that moment to bite down, hard. Jungkook yelps, before the sound morphs into an unabashed moan. His cheeks pinken, embarrassed at the volume of his voice.

“I-I…”

“Don’t worry, Jungkook…” you whisper, soothing the bite with your tongue. You pop off his skin, your lips slightly redder than before. “I’ll take good care of you, darling.”

See, Jungkook doesn’t doubt you in the slightest. As for his own skills at taking care of you when the time comes… now that’s a little bit of a gamble.

Jungkook isn’t a virgin, per se… He lost his virginity during his last year of high school to some girl he met at a party, and suffice to say, he didn’t last long. He’s had a few girlfriends in the past, but none of them ever wanted to get with him once they saw his dick. You see, he had a bit of a problem…

He wasn’t small, by the way. Don’t get him wrong. In fact, he was kinda���–

Jungkook is pulled away from his thoughts when you suddenly drop down to your knees, your hands grabbing onto his thighs for support. He’s almost worried that you’d injured yourself from how fast you’d dropped, but you don’t seem all that bothered by how deftly your fingers moved to unbuckle his belt.

When you get it loosened, your hands stop by the button of his jeans and you look up at him with expectation. Jungkook almost whines when your hands drift back to your lap.

You snort, amused. “What? You think I’m gonna do all the work here, buddy? Come on, strip for me.” you say, sitting on your haunches as you wait for him to move.

The strain in his pants was getting downright painful at this point, so Jungkook is more than eager to follow your orders. Still, his hands are shaking the entire time, so it takes him a few extra seconds before he can finally unbutton his stupid jeans and pull down his stupid zipper. Even through his loose boxers, the outline of his dick is very apparent, with a small wet spot already staining the front of his boxers a darker blue.

“Uh, I have to say a disclaimer first though,” Jungkook squeaks, suddenly shy under the intense gaze you were pointing straight at his dick. It twitches slightly, and your eyes follow it like a cat ready to pounce. “I’m… kinda on the bigger side, so I just want to ask if you’re sure––”

“Baby, I was sure even before I came to this club,” you say, trance-like. Your fists clench and unclench by your sides. “Now, shut up before I change my mind.”

“But––” Jungkook doesn’t get to finish his sentence, stunned to silence when you quite literally rip his boxers off of him like a magician trying to prove something. His dick springs up half-way, still not fully hard as it’s always taken him a little bit more goading before he can get to full mast. Yea, he was that big.

You stare at it for a moment, going cross-eyed as you stared at his tip head-on like some sort of perverse gun barrel. You don’t move for so long that Jungkook is afraid that he might have freaked you out with the size of his cock, though you wouldn’t be the first in a long shot. He’s about to apologize, prepared to pull up his pants in shame and walk home with half a log in his crotch. He’s already shifting his jeans back up when you place a hand on his wrist, stopping him in his tracks.

“Wait. Are you, like, only half-hard right now?” you ask, voice quiet.

Jungkook flushes. “Y-yeah… It gets a little bit bigger when I’m fully… You know…” he says, trailing off.

You’re still looking at his dick, but after further assessment, Jungkook realizes that you don’t look horrified in the slightest. In fact, you look pleased. “Jesus fuck you’re huge! Like… almost abnormally so.”

Jungkook literally feels like he’s going to die (and he hates that it’s kinda making him even hornier). “I guess so?”

“That’s a fucking log! You could stand on that thing!”

“I don’t think that’s possible, but––”

“Seokjin had told me you were huge, but I didn’t believe him because, well, the way he described it was that you had a literal third leg hiding under there. Who would have thought that Seokjin isn’t full of shit after all,” you say, awestruck.

“I’m really not that big––wait, Seokjin has talked to you about my dick? What the fuck? Since WHEN?” Seokjin was just out there in the world? Telling strangers about his dick? That hyung is seriously getting smashed WWE style the next time he sees him, and it’s NOT going to be sexy.

You wave him off. “Oh, don’t worry. He doesn’t just tell anyone. He let it slip because he was defending your honor,” you shrug.

In the midst of Jungkook’s mental breakdown at the realization that one of his closest friends just told a random girl that he’s got a meter long King Kong dong, he doesn’t notice that you’ve already stood up from where you were kneeling. You pull down the toilet seat cover, seating yourself on it and rubbing your reddened knees with a pout. “Ouch. Damn, I’m not used to kneeling for men anymore. Sorry, where was I? Oh right!”

You snap your fingers together, smiling gleefully at Jungkook. “So! I dragged you in here to give you my proposition, you see. I have a deal to make with you.”

Jungkook looks down at his cock, which was still red and dripping pre-cum, before turning back to you. “And this has something to do with… my dick?”

“Precisely!” you cheer, glad that he seems to be on the same page as you when he was in fact, not. “Sorry about tricking you, by the way. I’ll suck your dick after this if you’re still game, but only if you agree with my plan.”

“Your plan?”

“Yep,” you say, popping your ‘p’ once more. “You see, I have an ex-boyfriend. His name is Lee Taeyong, ever heard of him?”

Jungkook vaguely knows the upperclassman, though he can’t say he’s ever spoken to him. “Kinda. What does he have to do with me?”

“Well, if you really heard of him, then you’d already be one step ahead. Seeing as how it’s not already connecting for you––” you point to his dick, poking the sensitive head with the grace of a 5-year old at a petting zoo, “––then you don’t know that Lee Taeyong has the biggest dick on campus. Allegedly.”

“Allegedly,” Jungkook repeats. He still doesn’t follow.

“Well, I wouldn’t know either because I’ve never seen his dick, so––”

“Wait wait wait. Wait.” Jungkook’s hamster brain is running a mile a minute. There have been way too many absurdities spoken in the last five minutes and he doesn’t think he’s drunk enough to deal with your insanity right now. “Let’s dissect this one at a time, shall we? First of all, how can you not know how big your boyfriend’s dick is?”

“My ex-boyfriend. And we only dated for like three days, and I don’t fuck until a week has passed, okay? I don’t play like that,” you say as if you didn’t just lure Jungkook to this dingy washroom only to give him blue balls and trauma.

“Okay, whatever. So what if he has a big dick? What does that have to do with me?”

You roll your eyes. “How can you not understand yet? I’m on the hunt for our university’s biggest dick, of course! And you, Jungkook, might just be my ticket to the number one prize.”

There is a long pause. Jungkook stares and stares at you, waiting for you to shout “Surprise! You’re being pranked, bro!” and for all the cameramen to come out and shower him in confetti and dollar bills or something. But no, nothing like that happened. He just continues to stand there with his dick out, while you sit on a dingy toilet seat with your legs crossed comfortably as if you were just two friends having a regular conversation.

After a while, Jungkook comes to a conclusion. “You’re being serious.”

You snort, annoyed as if you were the one being inconvenienced. “Of course I am, dude. I don’t stalk just about anybody to see their dick. I’m not that insane.”

Jungkook feels as though your judgment on sanity should probably be taken with a grain of salt. “S-sure. Right. You’re definitely not insane.”

“And you have a big dick! I’m glad you can see where I’m coming from,” you say, nodding sagely. You peer at his dick once more, brows furrowed as you think deeply to yourself. “Hmm… Yea, I’d say you’d be at least equally as big as him. If all else fails, I can split the winnings and get half the amount of money if you––”

“No,” Jungkook says.

You raise your brow. “Yes?” you try.

“Yes–I mean, what? No!” Jungkook repeats, shaking his head furiously. "Are you even hearing yourself? You expect me to get into a dick measuring contest with your ex just so you can, what? Get revenge on him or something?"

"Not for revenge." You lean closer to him, face inches away from his dick but you don't seem perturbed in the slightest. "It's for money," you whisper, grinning slyly.

"Money," Jungkook repeats.

You clap your hands excitedly. "Exactly! So Taeyong and I didn't actually break up on bad terms. We only got together to make Doyoung, his crush, jealous enough to confess his feelings. But now, that dumb bitch thinks that now that he's with Taeyong, he can make fun of me for not being able to handle Taeyong's dark horse cock––"

"Can you please stop talking like an insane person," Jungkook pleads. His comment remains unheard.

"––so we made a bet that Taeyong doesn't actually have the biggest dick on campus and that I'm dating a guy with an even bigger meat thermometer than he does," you finish, snapping your fingers with a flourish. There's a twinkle in your eye: it's misplaced excitement coupled with extreme insanity, Jungkook realizes.

"That's good and all, but there's just one problem."

"What?" You tilt your head, confused.

"We're not exactly dating, are we?"

"Details, details... What Doyoung and Taeyong don't know won't hurt them," you say, shrugging your shoulders.

Jungkook rolls his eyes. "Of course," he says, leaning against the grimy bathroom wall. He goes to tuck Jungkook Jr. back into his pants, his dick finally softening after the last ten minutes of psychological torture courtesy of yours truly, but you're quick to slap his hand away, making him yelp in surprise.

"No! I like looking at it," you say. You stare at his dick with rapt fascination. "It's kinda like looking at a weird, deformed baby leg. Beautiful, but haunting all at once."

Jungkook huffs, staring at you in equal parts disbelief and awe. If he thought Seokjin was mentally unhinged, then you're definitely on your way towards uncharted psychotic territory. It was kind of amazing how you could just say shit without any brain to mouth filter, in your own twisted way. "Listen, lady. I don't even fucking know what your name is, but I am not helping you win some stupid bet and showing my dick to even more strangers than I have to, okay?"

You consider him, lips pursing slightly. "Why, do you have any other plans this weekend?"

Jungkook falters. "I... No, I don't––"

You shrug your shoulders, as if that's the end of that problem. "Then it's settled! I don't see why you can't just do this out of the goodness of your heart?"

"For the last time, I won't do it even if––"

"I'll split the prize with you? 50/50? That's $1000 for having a huge dick! Every incel's wet dream!"

Jungkook pauses in his rant, choking on his spit. His jaw drops comically, unsure if he heard you right. "Did you say one... grand?"

Hook, line, and sinker. You know you caught him the moment his eyes bugged out of their sockets. You smirk, crossing your arms triumphantly as you gaze upon his desperate and broke college ass (and dick). “So? Having second thoughts?"

Jungkook is quiet for a moment. He opens his mouth, then closes it. He tries to wrap his head around the number, unsure if he should be worried about how ready he is to drop his pants for money. Have I completely lost it? Am I that much of an idiot? he wonders, but then again… He’d be an even bigger idiot for letting free money go down the drain.

“Where is this money even coming from?” he asks, even though he knows his guard is already dropping quickly.

You wave your hand flippantly. “Oh, Doyoung is filthy rich. I imagine that $2000 is nothing to him,” you say, picking at a hangnail. “It’s not much money to me either, but my pride is mostly at stake here. If you want, you could take all the money as a prize, so long as you make that bitch eat his heart out.”

Jungkook feels his dick twitch and he knows that you notice. “Two… thousand…” He accidentally moans, gripping his thighs to prevent himself from nutting. “That’s…”

You tilt your head, arching a brow. “Not enough? I could put in an extra $500 if you’re really against this whole thing. To be fair, I wouldn’t wanna expose my coochie to a random person either––”

“Two thousand five hundred? Are you fucking insane?” Jungkook exclaims, voice cracking at the end. He clears his throat, but it still feels like his lungs are on fire.

“Okay, three grand it is but I’m not going any higher than that,” you huff, shaking your head. “Mr. Jeon, you really do drive a hard bargain, though I always notice that well-endowed men tend to think they deserve the universe, so I’m not surprised.” You chuckle to yourself, as if anything about this situation is worth laughing at. Jungkook feels like that one time he had inhaled an entire helium balloon in one breath when he was younger: kinda nauseous but also kinda euphoric. Is it bad that his dick is stirring awake right now? Hello?

You put your hand out, looking at him expectantly. “Well? Do we have a deal or not?”

Jungkook takes a deep breath and accesses his options carefully. Does he:

Give up his low self-esteem for money and enter an actual dick-measuring contest with some stranger;

There is no other option. Jungkook wants money.

He exhales, a migraine already throbbing incessantly in the back of his skull. He thrusts his hand forward, gripping yours harshly in a firm handshake. “I’m in,” he says, without missing a beat. Your smile brings a shiver down his back, and he can’t help but wonder if this is what Judas felt like when he betrayed Jesus, except he’s betraying no one but his own self-worth.

Well, he always did wonder how much his life was worth and three grand doesn’t seem like that big of a stretch. Oh well.

“Nice,” you chuckle, seemingly vibrating from excitement. You slip behind him, grabbing his phone from the back pocket of his jeans (which were still, by the way, pooled around his thighs because his dick was still out. Just to remind you guys in case you forgot. OP doesn’t want you to ever forget about it.) You flick open his phone, cackling maniacally when you realize he doesn’t even have a password on.

Jungkook squawks. “Hey, what are you––”

“I’m saving my number on your phone,” you explain. He can barely see what you were typing into his phone contacts, but he doesn’t miss the way you attach a heart emoji beside your name. You open his texts, sending yourself an octopus emoji that just so happened to be Jungkook’s most frequently used emoji. You snort. “Octopus emoji, huh? Seems appropriate… Can’t help but think it was a sign that this might have been destiny.”

“I just like takoyaki…” Jungkook defends himself sulkily.

“Yea? Well I like cock,” you say. You pause, furrowing your brows. “Oh, I meant to say chicken. Same thing.”

You hand back his phone, grabbing your small purse that you had thrown aside onto the washroom floor. You straighten your dress, looking to all the world as if you hadn’t just offered a stranger three grand to show his dick. “Well, it was nice meeting you, Jungkook. I expect to see you soon, maybe this weekend if you’re free. I’ll text you the details of when we’ll meet next. Toodles!” you wave, sending him a flying kiss for extra measure. Jungkook’s eye twitches, and he wonders not for the first time tonight if he was trapped in a coma and was slowly passing away.

Just as you are about to head out the door, you stop in your tracks, turning back to face him. You give him a curious expression, gaze dragging downwards until you were staring down the barrel of his dick once more. “Hey, sorry about leaving you hanging like that, by the way. I would love to help you finish, but I have a ride to catch. Raincheck?”

Not waiting for an answer, you saunter away with a spring in your step. The door swings back closed, leaving Jungkook alone for the first time in what feels like forever: just him, his dick, and the promise of three thousand dollars on the horizon.

“I’m so fucking stupid,” Jungkook groans, sliding down to the floor. He fists his cock in his hand, groaning loudly when he feels the pleasure jolt up his spine like electricity. As he listens to the sounds of his heavy breathing and the slick mess in his hands, he can’t help but wonder if Jimin was right… Maybe he did have a thing for insane hot girls who were out to kill him.

x x x x x

After Jungkook cleans himself up, he marches out of the washroom with as much dignity as he can muster. Which is to say that he walked out of there with his head bowed in shame, meekly navigating the crowded club in search of his friends.

It isn’t hard, considering that Jimin was currently hanging on the fucking ceiling from a disco ball. A group of men stand at the bottom, all of them eagerly eyeing his fat ass as Jimin dangerously humped the shiny ball of metal like his life depended on it.

“Okaaaay guys! The moment this disco ball drops, whoever catches me first gets to fuck me tonight so try your best to grab me~!” Jimin singsongs from his perch, howling madly as all the horny motherfuckers scramble all over each other, desperate to catch him lest he meets his maker.

“I. Hate. My. Life.” Jungkook sighs, striding past the group of men easily with his superior upper body strength. “Move, incels. This twink isn’t letting any of you simps touch his ass. He just likes the attention.”

“Aww, Jungkookie! Don’t ruin my fun~! Unless you wanna catch me and we can finally fu––” Jimin screams mid-sentence, just as the cord holding him and the disco ball snaps. All the guys step over themselves to catch him, but Jungkook is stronger and faster. He catches Jimin mid-air, snatching him in an instant and hoisting him over his shoulder. Everyone cheers and hollers, clapping for him as Jimin continues to giggle hysterically into his back.

“Yay! Jungkookie is gonna fuck meeeee,” Jimin pats him on the ass, but Jungkook ignores him. He goes around the club, searching for the rest of his friends until he has five dangling bodies hanging off his body like some six-headed freak.

Well, it’s soon going to be five-headed after he beheads Seokjin, whom Jungkook is certain just vomited all over the back of his jeans.

“I can’t fucking find Yoongi-hyung.” Jungkook grits his teeth, his nose assaulted by the stench of Namjoon’s armpit as the elder contorts himself into a more comfortable position. “Stop fucking moving, you long-legged bastard. Why’d you have to be born with such good body proportions?”

“And why are you so hot, Jungkook?” Taehyung swoons from somewhere underneath Hoseok, who seems to be either passed out or dead; Jungkook didn’t pause to check for a pulse.

“Pretty sure Yoongi went home,” Seokjin slurs, a second wave of nausea hitting him as he struggles to keep the alcohol inside of him a bit longer. “Ugh… Said he saw his roommate and they went home together.”

“God, it better be his fucking roommate and not another person trying to sell his organs again.” Jungkook sighs. “Either way, we’re all going home. We’ve done enough damage for tonight.”

“Jungkookie, did you have any fun at all tonight? Didn’t see you around,” Namjoon quips, managing to wriggle out of Jungkook’s grip and fall face flat on the curb. He whines pathetically, not making a move to stand up again. “Ugh. I didn’t even drink a lot tonight so why...?”

“It’s because you’re Namjoon,” Jungkook supplies helpfully. He lets the rest of his friends down, making sure they are leaning against the wall for support (or sitting against the wall in Hoseok’s case). “Alright, I’m calling cabs. Seokjin-hyung, I’m staying over at your place tonight.”

Jimin, who was already slowly falling asleep where he stands, perks up in attention at that. “Wait, you’re coming home with me and Seokjin? Are we reaaaally gonna fuck?” Jimin tries to wiggle his eyebrows suggestively, but to Jungkook, it just looks like he’s having a stroke.

“I’m done nutting for tonight. We are sleeping once we get home and that’s it,” Jungkook snorts, crossing his arms.

“OOOOOOOH? JUNGKOOK GOT FUCKED AT THE CLUB!”

“GET IT BOY!”

“OH SHIT HE FINALLY USED HIS PURPLE-HEADED YOGURT FINGER!”

“DAMN DUDE? DAMN? DAMN?”

“AW, YOU FUCKED SOMEONE WITHOUT ME?”

Jungkook swears he had heard Hoseok speak amidst the yelling from his friends, but his hyung still remains mysteriously hunched over and dead to the world. “None of your businesses. Anyway, a cab is coming soon and I swear to God, if any of you piss or vomit in that poor man’s vehicle, I will make sure none of you live to see the light of day, okay?”

Jimin turns to Taehyung, who just happened to be beside him. “Not gonna lie, but I kinda jizzed in my pants just now. That was kinda hot.” Taehyung only nods in agreement.

An hour and thirty minutes later, Jungkook manages to get the last of his idiot friends home, leaving only him, Seokjin, and Jimin as they tiredly trudge up the steps to the apartment. It takes an additional twenty minutes for Seokjin to figure out where he’d left his keys, only for Jimin to raise his finger for them to wait as he hid behind some bushes while unbuckling his jeans. When he comes out of the bushes, pantless, he has a key raised with a victorious smirk on his face.

“Don’t ask where I keep this,” is all he says and Jungkook is glad that he had rejected Seokjin’s offer to permanently move in as their roommate.

They all stumble into the apartment, with Seokjin falling immediately onto the couch. He curls up into a little ball, snoring the moment his eyes shut. Jungkook wants to shake him awake, eager to interrogate him about what happened between you and him just a few hours ago at the club. Even if he wanted to wake him up, Jungkook is sure nothing can rouse the elder; this fact is confirmed when Jungkook dumps water on him, only for Seokjin to keep sleeping soundly like a baby.

“Well, hyung is dead. Guess it’s time for me to die too,” Jimin says sleepily, the horniness and insanity from the club already wearing off. He pats Jungkook gently on the head, pointing towards Seokjin’s room. “Sleep there. I’ll hand you an extra blanket because I wouldn’t trust that hyung’s sheets. Let’s sleep, yeah?”

Left with no other choice, Jungkook heads to Seokjin’s bedroom, jumping onto the unmade sheets and pretending not to notice the crusty unknown substance on the corner of the bed. He can’t fall asleep, not when he’s left haunted by the weight on his chest (and dick). Jungkook fiddles with his phone, staring wide-eyed at the name displayed tauntingly on his screen.

Y/N L/N.

He was gonna have a nightmare tonight, that’s for sure.

x x x x x

Jungkook wakes up early, much to his chagrin. He’d really like to stay dead to the world for much longer, but the smell of coffee brewing and bacon cooking is kind of a hard deal to pass up. Jungkook shifts in bed, cringing when he realizes he went to sleep in his jeans, and more importantly, that his pants felt a lot stickier than he remembered.

He lifts the blanket up, confirming his suspicions. “Fuck!”

Well, guess he didn’t have much of a nightmare last night after all.

He shucks off his clothes, disgusted by the mess he finds in his underwear. He hobbles over to Seokjin’s closet, cringing when he finds only one (1) clean pair of shorts left, which just so happened to have “PEE IS STORED IN THE BALLS” stamped on the back in cursive font. Beggars can’t be choosers, he supposes.

Jungkook tiptoes out of the bedroom, confronted with the sight of Jimin pouring three mugs of coffee and Seokjin still slumped over the couch, a substantial amount of drool dripping down from the side of his mouth and forming a puddle on the floor. Jungkook takes a photo, saving it for later.

“Morning,” Jimin smiles from the kitchen, offering Jungkook one of the cups. Jungkook is certain that Jimin has no recollection of the events from last night, though such is Park Jimin’s way of life. He drinks to get fucked up, then he forgets, and then the cycle repeats itself anew. Jungkook wonders how Jimin always manages to wake up without a hangover, though God might have just given him a super liver in compensation for his lack of height.

“Hyung is still dead,” Jungkook states plainly, walking over to Seokjin and peering at him closely. Jungkook sticks a finger into his agape mouth, collects some of his spit, and then proceeds to give him the wettest willy of his life. Still no response.

“Let me try,” Jimin says, sauntering over to Seokjin with one of the cups of coffee. Jimin leans down, hums gently into his ear. “Hyung, wake up. We have coffee for you!”

Seokjin mumbles incomprehensibly in his sleep, snuggling deeper into the couch stuffing. Jimin tilts his head, still smiling. Then, he dumps the scalding cup of coffee all over Seokjin’s crotch.

In an instant, Seokjin screams with the pitch of a banshee, swinging his arms wildly about and nearly knocking himself out with his own fist. Jungkook and Jimin watch passively from the sidelines, waiting for the elder to finish fanning his nutsack before greeting him a pleasant morning.

“WHY ARE YOU BOTH LITERAL DEMONS?” Seokjin hollers, jumping to his feet with his scorched balls and all. Taking pity on him, Jungkook walks over to the fridge, tossing his hyung a bag of ice. And by toss, it’s more like he pitches the bag straight into his dick with the ease and speed of a seasoned baseball player, eliciting another round of pained howls.

“YOU––ASS––” Seokjin seethes, clutching the bag of ice to his nether regions. He sits down on the adjacent loveseat, expression contorting as he cups his balls gingerly. “God, it’s almost like you guys don’t think I deserve basic human decency.”

“That was just a small part of my revenge for you, after you gave my contact details to an insane woman,” Jungkook sneers, miming a punch onto Seokjin’s handsome face. Seokjin doesn’t even flinch, too busy staring at Jungkook’s legs.

“Hey, are you wearing my thot shorts?”

Jungkook looks down at the neon pink monstrosity around his hips. “You call these your thot shorts?”

Seokjin shrugs. “I got dicked down in them once. You should try.”

“Oh, did I hear something about revenge? I smell tea in here,” Jimin says, coming back from the kitchen with his own cup. “Well, I have coffee but same shit. What happened?”

“This––” Jungkook points an accusatory finger at Seokjin, “––asshole sent my location information to an insane stalker lady last night after he told her that I had a huge dick!”

Seokjin squints at him, confused. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about Y/N! She said you told her about how big my dick was and when she asked you where I was, you told her I was going to the club with you last night!”

“Oh.” Realization dawns on Seokjin’s face, which was quickly replaced by incredulity as he stares at Jungkook. “I assumed she asked for your contact details because she had a crush on you. I was just trying to get you some pussy, bro.”

“Yeah, Kook. Not gonna lie, but I’d be dicking down girls left and right if I had a dick as big as yours,” Jimin says, eyeing the bulge in his teeny tiny shorts with interest. “In fact, I’d probably be a top if I had a dick as big as yours.”

Seokjin laughs, nearly shooting out phlegm from the strength of it. “Oh god, don’t tell me. You couldn’t get your dick hard again? Don’t worry bro, if I had a dick as big as yours, it’d take ages for it to fill up too.”

Jungkook flushes, stomping his foot in embarrassment. “That! Wasn’t the problem! The problem is––”

“––that Jungkook nuts too quickly because he doesn’t have any practice,” Jimin tuts sadly, patting the younger with a pitiful expression. “Don’t worry, Kook. Hyung is open to giving you some pointers.”

“That’s not it either!” Jungkook screams, groaning in annoyance. “She came up to me because she offered to pay me $3000 to enter a dick-measuring contest!”

Jimin and Seokjin tilt their heads in tandem, still not getting it. “So?” they both chorus, giving him a blank-eyed stare.

“Are you guys out of your mind? I got bribed into showing my dick to some strangers like some kind of weird prostitute!”

��It’s not prostitution if you’re not engaging in sexual activity,” Jimin muses, taking a long sip from his coffee. He shrugs his shoulders. “Honestly, I don’t see how this is a problem. You show some girls your dick, and you get money. Dudes would kill to be in your position.”

“Oh my God, don’t tell me,” Seokjin leers at Jungkook, and the younger almost can’t stop himself from landing another blow against the elder’s abused crotch. “You got roped into some bukkake orgy and now you’re asking your hyungs to help you? Don’t worry, Jungoo… You came to the right people. You see, Jimin and I have some experience with––”

“LALALA I CAN’T HEAR YOU!” Jungkook jams his fingers into his own ears, screaming hysterically to drown out the sounds of Seokjin and Jimin’s combined laughter. Jungkook pouts at them, glowering pathetically. “Seriously, hyungs! Do you not see how fucked up this is? Who follows a stranger to a club, pretends they’re going to give you a blowjob, only to offer 3K for you to show some strangers your dick?”

“A regular Friday night if you ask me,” Jimin says, shrugging once more. Jungkook stares at him, realizing that maybe it was the wrong idea being friends with these two lunatics in the first place. Knowing Jimin, he’d probably been in much more lewd and compromising situations than Jungkook will ever have. Rumor has it that Jimin had once done a keg stand while having his dick sucked while on vacation in Japan.  

“Well, if you were really against it, then you could have just said no?” Seokjin points out, wagging a finger at him. “I know Y/N, and yeah she’s kind of demented, but she still knows that no means no. Surely, you haven’t considered the fact that you are 1) a pushover and 2) horny for her?”

“Well, yea––No, what––No!” Jungkook splutters, stammering wildly. His two hyungs grin salaciously, gazing at him knowingly. Jungkook can only groan, as he knows that they kind of have a point. He’s always been too weak for girls and money, so when you put those two things together…

“I might be addicted to the BBC tag on Pornhub, but you my friend… You’re in it for the BBCC,” Jimin snickers, patting Jungkook comfortingly on the back. Jungkook groans into his hands, slumping onto the loveseat beside Seokjin, whose icepack had long since melted and caused the seat to be uncomfortably damp.

“BBCC? I’m almost too afraid to ask.”

“Big black credit card,” Seokjin pipes up, wrapping his own arm around Jungkook’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, bud. We all have been there.”

That’s the problem: somehow, Jungkook finds himself much too ready to accept his fate, eagerly awaiting when you’ll text him next.

x x x x x

After a much-needed shower at Jimin and Seokjin’s place, Jungkook tiredly makes his way to the nearby bus stop, ready to go home and sleep the entire weekend away. Screw his Biochemistry midterm on Monday––if he really is going to whore himself out to you, then he’s going to need all the self-care and therapy that he can get. His phone itches in the pocket of his shorts (yes, he’s still wearing the thot shorts), and he wonders if he should text his therapist and ask for an extra appointment later in the day.

Just as he’s about to pull out his phone, he senses it vibrate once, twice. He freezes in his steps, walking out of the way of busy pedestrians on the sidewalk and into a random clothing store. He sees the lone cashier staring at him from the corner of his eye, but he does not check if her gaze is filled with disgust or disgust. Probably disgust, he surmises.

Flicking his phone on, he sees two new messages from you and his heart immediately starts to hammer in his chest. No one has ever made Jungkook equal parts scared and excited, though he imagines you might have that effect on most people, what with how you look like the type to tie up unsuspecting victims to harvest their organs in your summer cottage up in the mountains or something. Or maybe that’s just Jungkook projecting.

from: y/n l/n ❣️ hey! sorry for taking so long to text you. my roommate tried to make cheesecake at 3am last night and i had to supervise in case he burned down the apartment.

from: y/n l/n ❣️ anyway, i was wondering if you were free later? some time after 5 maybe? let me know!

You already want to meet so soon. Jungkook exhales heavily through his nostrils, pinching the bridge of his nose in an attempt to calm himself. Alright, this is fine. Jungkook is a big boy: he can handle going to a girl’s home without losing his mind. You didn’t say anything about this being the actual dick-measuring contest yet, so he can only assume this is just you asking for something else. Maybe to talk more? Maybe he’ll get a down payment for the prize money? Maybe you’ll follow through on your raincheck? God, is it wrong for him to have his dick plumping up in his shorts when you haven’t even done anything to him yet?

(On the contrary, you could say that you have done a lot for him over the past twenty four hours, though maybe not in the way most people would expect.)

from: jjk yeah i can meet you at 5. what’s this for?

from: y/n l/n ❣️ oh, nothing! i just wanted to talk to you about the actual competition and stuff. plus, i want to actually measure your dick, just so i can see how much you’re actually packing down there ;)

from: jjk ….yeah, fine. whatever.

(This really isn’t a “whatever” type of situation, but honestly, Jungkook doesn’t really know what to say anymore. He’s officially lost his singular brain wrinkle. He’s smooth brain McGee over here.)

You follow up by sharing your location with him, and he’s surprised to find that you aren’t that far away from where Jungkook was right now. He really did mean to go back to his apartment first and get changed into something more… morally acceptable, but since he hasn’t been arrested yet for public decency, he should be okay with going to your place in Seokjin’s thot shorts.

There’s something invigorating about going to your place, dressed the way he is… Maybe the shorts are somehow giving him brain hemorrhage by indirect association with Seokjin. Either that or Jungkook simply loves torturing himself by embarrassing himself constantly. Well, at least he showered and combed his hair before leaving his hyungs’ place.

He inputs your address into his phone map, taking his sweet time as he walks the short distance to your apartment. As he passes by the buildings and street corners, he can’t help but think that he might have been around this area before. He tries to rack his brain, forcing himself to remember why this route seems so familiar.

“Oh right. Yoongi-hyung’s new apartment should be around here,” he muses to himself. He wonders if his hyung had gotten home safely last night. He should probably text him to make sure, but he’s got a literal dick appointment to attend to first, so he’ll remember to check up on Yoongi once he finishes up with you.

Does that make him a shitty friend? Probably. But would Yoongi do the same if Jungkook was in his shoes? Probably.

Yeah, Jungkook and his group of friends aren’t exactly role models for a sensitive and loving relationship, though that’s not much of a surprise to anyone.

He arrives at a decent looking apartment complex, complete with its own little water fountain at the entrance. He walks through the automatic sliding doors, peers at the shiny caution tape barring him from using the elevator. He stares at your address on his phone, groaning loudly when he sees “1603” much to his annoyance.

“No wonder she had such great thighs,” Jungkook mutters angrily to himself, preparing himself for the long and arduous journey his glutes are going to endure.

Years later, Jungkook finds himself at your door, his lungs jumping out of his throat as he struggles to catch his breath. He hunches over, elbows digging into his thighs as he wipes the sweat trailing down his neck. He can see your door just near the end of the hall, but just as he’s about to crawl his way over––

“Oh. Oh my,” a familiar voice says from behind him, and Jungkook looks over his shoulder to see…

“Yoongi-hyung?” Jungkook exclaims incredulously, mouth gaping at the sight of his thought-to-be-dead hyung coming out of the elevator. He splutters for a few more moments before pointing an accusing finger at Yoongi. “You used the elevator?”

Yoongi raises an eyebrow, turning to look at the elevator with a thoughtful look. “Oh right. The elevator works. The maintenance people just forgot to remove the safety tape from last week.” Yoongi looks back at Jungkook, gaze lowering to his legs. “I see that Seokjin has provided you with his thot shorts.”

Jungkook doesn’t even try to cover himself, used to his friends seeing him in varying degrees of undress. Like, what was Yoongi going to do? Take a photo of him and post it to his Twitter for his thousands of followers to see? He wasn’t that cruel...

Snap! Yoongi pockets his phone quickly, clearing his throat. “So,” Yoongi walks up closer to him, peering at Jungkook curiously. “What brings you to my apartment? Not that I’m happy to see you, but I assumed you and the rest of our idiotic gang would have died of alcohol poisoning the night before.”

“...It’s a long story,” Jungkook says, rubbing the back of his neck. “Say... Where did you go last night, by the way? I tried to look for you, but Seokjin said your roommate brought you home?”

“Yeah. She went to the club with a bunch of her friends. She offered me a ride with her because she knew how much I hated it there,” Yoongi says, frowning. “Fuck you, by the way.”

“What the fuck? What the hell did I do?”

“I don’t know. You’re wearing Seokjin’s shorts and my ape brain told me to retaliate out of instinct,” he explains. He takes another long, good glance at his shorts. “Color me surprised that they fit you, by the way. I’d assume your huge ass would be making it rip the seams, or perhaps your dick would be saying hello.”

Jungkook pats his junk proudly. “I know, right? Big guy decided to cooperate, for some reason.”

“Will you guys stop yapping it up out in the hall? I’m pretty sure Mrs. Sy can hear you two idiots from the first floor,” a voice from behind Jungkook hisses, causing the two boys to jump up in surprise. Lo and behold, your head is peeking out from behind your door, a perfectly stenciled eyebrow arched in annoyance. “Well? Are you two coming in or what?” You return back to your apartment, assuming that they’d soon follow.

Yoongi looks at Jungkook. “Wait. You know Y/N?”

Jungkook looks at Yoongi. “Wait. You know Y/N?”

Yoongi squints his eyes. “She’s my roommate. She’s a mutual friend of––”

“––Seokjin,” Jungkook finishes. The two of them pause, a metaphorical light bulb glowing above their heads.

“Ah.”

“Ah.”

“I see. The demoness has roped you into some hare-brained scheme, hasn’t she?” Yoongi nods sagely, rubbing his beardless chin. “Can’t say I feel sorry for you since I have to live with the wench.”

Jungkook grimaces. “Man. She’s insane around you too?”

Yoongi shrugs, walking over to your shared apartment. “I’m dating Seokjin, remember? Everyday, I suffer. Everyday, I feel my arm.”

When Jungkook steps into your apartment, he can’t help but be a little surprised. Of course, he shouldn’t have expected to see a medieval torture chamber in the middle of a metropolitan city, but he wouldn’t put it past you to somehow make it happen. Instead, he finds a fairly cozy-looking home, with comfy couches and filled bookshelves, complete with a small balcony that had a few fresh herbs growing in little pots. It looks…

“Yoongi-hyung. You definitely decorated, didn’t you?” Jungkook snorts, fingering the little kitty-patterned throw blanket draped on your couch. It’s soft and expensive, and definitely something only Yoongi would buy. The elder doesn’t even bother looking embarrassed; he just throws Jungkook the middle finger as he walks towards the kitchen.

You come out once more from one of the connecting rooms at the other end of the apartment, presumably your bedroom. You motion for Jungkook to come in. “Yoongi, you’re gonna bake all day, right? Mind if you let Jungkook and I speak alone in my room?”

Yoongi waves his hand disinterestedly. “Whatever. If you guys are gonna be freaky in there, I’m gonna start playing clown music to drown you guys out, alright? And I mean the remix versions with the extra clown honks.”

You roll your eyes. “Yea, yea. We get it. Grandpa needs his special time alone too.”

Jungkook’s heart jumps when you don’t even bother correcting him. Does that mean you guys really were going to do something freaky? Hopefully, Yoongi has learned to differentiate screams of terror from screams of pleasure, though it’s hard to tell if he’d care otherwise.

He follows you into your room and immediately notices the perfectly made bed and the neatly organized desk. Your curtains are drawn close, but the sheerness of it allows the mid-afternoon sun to brighten the room regardless. Your bedroom smells faintly of vanilla and cinnamon, and he notices the small scented candle still smoking from when you’d put it out.

Nothing in the room indicates that he was inside the room of a psychopath, though maybe Namjoon or Taehyung would argue that anyone who makes their bed every day might be a little out of it. Jungkook continues to stand awkwardly by the door, unsure of what to do next except to stare.

You plop onto your bed, giving him an expectant look. “Well? Are you just gonna stand there by the door and have Yoongi see us measure your dick or what?” That gets Jungkook to move. He closes the door, pausing for a second before locking it for good measure. Then, he takes the short two steps that he needs to stand right in front of you.

You crane your neck, appraising him silently as he fidgets from the weirdness of it all. Your gaze trails down and Jungkook is not surprised when you stop to stare at his neon pink shorts. You snort, thumbing the edge of his shorts lightly. Jungkook shivers even though you’re barely touching him and he knows that you notice.

“Trying to get back at me for leaving you with blue balls yesterday?” you muse, letting go of the thin material. Jungkook wants to bring your hand back to his thigh, but he forces himself to keep still.

He looks down. “Not really? But I mean… Is it working?” He can’t help the hopeful lilt in his voice.

You laugh, patting him lightly on the thigh. “No worries, Jungkook. I did promise you a little something last night, right? I admit it was shitty of me to leave you like that, despite what you already might think of me. You probably think I’m just some insane bitch, right?”

Jungkook stares at you. “Do you want me to be honest or...?”

You roll your eyes, but you seem more amused than anything. “Save it. I know I’m weird. But, a promise is a promise…” You trail off, winking at him. “Besides, this works out for the both of us, right? I wanted to measure your dick before we meet up with Taeyong and Doyoung tomorrow, and I can help you blow your rocks right after. Seems like a deal?”

“Is it bad that I’m so ready to have you suck me off that I’m honest to God accepting your offer without any sense of dignity?”

You consider him for a moment. Then, “Nah. I know dudes who would do worse things for three grand and to have their dick sucked. I’d say you’re just doing you.” You place your hands back on his hips, thumbing around the garter of his shorts.

Jungkook groans, not even flinching when you rip his shorts and boxers off in one rough flourish. His soft dick dangles heavily between his thighs. “See, I’m not entirely comforted knowing that you agree with my moral dilemma.”

You clap your hands together, excitement glittering in your expression. “Who cares! Let’s get you all hard and ready, shall we?”

Jungkook squirms under your gaze, getting dick stage fright. “H-hey… This isn’t like porn… I can’t just get hard when I want to, you know? I need… stimulation or some shit.”

You nod, humming thoughtfully. “You’re right… And I remember you said something about taking a long time to get fully hard, right? That’s gonna be a problem indeed.” You lean forward, “So. Tell me, Jungkook. What are your kinks?”

If Jungkook was drinking water, he’s sure he’d be doing a spit take right now. Instead, he just chokes on his own saliva, coughing out his lungs at your sudden inquiry. “M-my kinks? What for?”

“To get you hard, duh.” You leave featherlight grazes around his thigh, leaving goosebumps in their wake. It stirs something inside Jungkook, but not enough to do anything yet. You tsk, your brow crumpling as you decide what to do next. “What if I…”

You dig your nails into the meat of his thighs and inadvertently pull him closer. He stumbles forward, his breath knocked out of him despite how little you’d done so far. “W-wait,” he wheezes, shock running down his spine. “I––”

You smirk at him, digging harder until you’re sure to leave white little crescents littered around his thigh. “Aha. I guessed you’d be into that. You liked it when I bit you yesterday, didn’t you?”

Jungkook can’t even answer. He’s trying to keep his breathing steady, squeezing his eyelids shut. He hears you shuffling in front of him, and he soon senses your body press closer to him, alerting him that you have stood up. You wrap your arms around his neck, bending his head down until he can feel your breath fan across his lips.

Are you going to kiss him? But the contact doesn’t come; instead, your hands snake up to his hair, massaging his scalp for a moment before tugging on his roots harshly. It pulls a whine from his lips, the response surprising even himself. “S-shit,” he grits his teeth, urging you to do it again. He opens his eyes slightly, sees you watching him with rapt attention.

You lick your lips, looking at him like a meal ready to be eaten. The heat in his stomach builds, but Jungkook doesn’t have it in him to be embarrassed anymore. He doesn’t really have any more room in his brain anymore other than his unabashedly horny thoughts.

“Pain slut, huh? Somehow, it suits you.” You sound breathy, as if you were the one being pleasured instead. It makes Jungkook’s cock twitch a little, coming to life in front of you as you continue to assault his nerves.

“Do you like pain everywhere?” Your hands leave his head, coming down to the edge of his shirt. It’s a silent request, and Jungkook allows you to lift up his sweater, leaving him completely bare before you. You throw it somewhere to your right, eyes raking him up and down. Something about you still being fully clothed makes Jungkook’s inside light on fire, and it rushes blood down south before he can even understand why.

You chuckle, looking at his hardened nipples with interest. “Pierced? What a naughty boy you are.” You flick him there experimentally, and when Jungkook’s breath hitches, that gives you a go sign to do more. You fiddle around with the rosy bud some more, circling it with the pads of your fingers until Jungkook was a whining mess before you. “Sensitive… What a prize you are, Jungkook.”

Jungkook keens at the praise, even though he knows you didn’t really mean it in a good way. He finds himself wanting to please you: to get himself hard for you, to make you want him like how he wants you. He honestly can’t tell if you’re enjoying this as much as him, other than the way you’re watching him closely like a hawk.

He’s nearly half-hard, his cock jutting against your stomach. You peer down, figuring out your next move as he holds his breath, afraid he might do something wrong. Your fingers move once more, tracing shapes across his stomach and causing the muscles there to contract. He anticipates your next movements, his dick steadily throbbing.

“I suppose the easiest way to get you hard is to touch you here, right?” you murmur lowly. You grip him by the hips all of a sudden, your thumbs placed firmly into his Adonis’ belt. You inch closer and closer to where he wants you the most, and you watch him amusedly as he clamps down on his bottom lip, unwilling to sound desperate so early in the game.

(Was it early though? He’s been thinking about this exact scenario since last night, even plaguing his dreams. Still, it wouldn’t look cool if he just… busted a nut just from having his dick out. Even he knew that was kinda sad.)

Despite his best efforts, perhaps the desperation is apparent on his face because you eventually do take pity on him. You wrap your fingers around his length, not moving just yet. You smile secretly to yourself when you hear Jungkook exhale and swallow audibly, but you’re waiting for something. You look up at him, batting your eyelashes innocently as if you didn’t have his dick in your hands.

“What do good boys say when they want something?” You’re fishing, but your teasing tone breaks Jungkook down enough to release a ragged moan. He places his hands on your shoulder, using you for support as you slowly inch your hand down to the base of his cock.

He can’t keep the whine out of his voice when he says, “P...Please. Move?”

Your grin is wicked. “Of course, baby.”

Yeah, if you keep this up, Jungkook is going to come embarrassingly fast and he doesn’t think you’ll be quite pleased with that.

There is pre-cum leaking at the tip of his cock, dangerously close to pooling over and dripping all over your carpet. You are quick to swipe it off with your thumb, dragging it down his shaft for an easier slide. Jungkook’s abs tense, his teeth clamping on his bottom lip so aggressively that he almost splits it open. His grip on your shoulders tighten, but you don’t mind. You keep stroking him languidly, not going fast enough for Jungkook’s liking, but the concentration on your face is enough to make Jungkook release a stilted moan. It doesn’t take long until the wet squelch of your hand jerking him fills the room, coupled with the sound of Jungkook’s labored breathing.

“You’re really wet,” you chuckle, watching with fascination as your words urge another drop of pre-cum to collect at his tip. “Are you always like this?”

“N-not… Really?” It takes a while for Jungkook’s brain to connect, caught between wanting to keep his eyes shut and wanting to stare at your cute hands trying to wrap around his dick. Your fingers can’t even circle the girth of his cock, the realization almost making Jungkook come there and then.

He’d never been one to be overly confident about his penis size, to be honest. He doesn’t really go around proclaiming it to the world, and his meager body count doesn’t help the fact that most people are unaware of the extent of his package. He isn’t itching to tell people either, but he’s starting to see why people would be envious of having a large dick. The sight of you struggling to pump his cock really makes for a pretty picture.

“Ugh, my arm is getting tired,” you complain after a while, getting frustrated when you realize that Jungkook is almost fully hard, but not quite. “Jeez. Your dick is so huge that it really takes a minute for the fuel tank to fill up, huh?”

“I-I’m sorry?” Jungkook wheezes, nearly crying out when you flick your wrist in just the right manner. Your hand pauses by the head of his dick, squeezing tightly enough not to be painful, much to his disappointment. Jungkook is still too shy to ask for more.

You let go of him all of a sudden, causing a guttural whine to escape Jungkook’s lips. Ignoring him, you nudge him back a few steps, Jungkook complying wordlessly. He’s still confused until you reach over to your bed, grabbing one of your pillows before dropping to your knees. Jungkook’s jaw drops, spluttering incomprehensibly as you cushion your knees with the pillow.

You look up, giggling amusedly. “Reminds you of last night, huh? Not gonna lie, I’ve been itching to have your cock in my mouth, though I’m not even sure if any of it can fit. That’s not gonna stop me from trying.”

Oh God. Oh Geez. Jungkook is going to die, isn’t he? He vaguely remembers his dream from the night before, how your pretty pink lips had stretched over his dick, barely going past his head. He whines pathetically, another string of pre-cum finally dripping down and landing on your thighs.

You hold him by his hips, preventing him from moving as your hot breath fans across his wet head. You lick your lips, taking one glance up at him before giving his tip a quick peck. It’s nothing to write home about, but the way Jungkook’s breath catches is enough to encourage you to do more. You suckle his head a little, suctioning your lips and moaning slightly at the bitter tang. Your eyes flutter shut, tongue swirling nondescript patterns as you greedily engrave his taste into your mind.

The image of you enjoying yourself is enough to get Jungkook fully hard. He feels like he’s on fire, from his flushed cheeks all the way to his groin. He doesn’t know where to put his hands, unsure if you’d allow him to pull on your hair.

You must have noticed his plight, because one of your hands leaves his hips to grasp his own, bringing it to your hair. You pop off his dick for a second, lips already redder than before. Jungkook wishes he could kiss you, but he’s still so unsure. “You can pull my hair, but if you push me down further than I’m willing to go, I’m stopping immediately, okay?” Your voice is authoritative and your gaze is steely, but it only prompts Jungkook to moan in reply.

He nods, nearly getting whiplash from how quickly his head bobs. You smirk, appeased by his obedience. You return to your ministrations, rewarding him by going further down and bobbing your head at a snail’s pace.

Jungkook’s sanity is barely hanging onto a thread. He wants to thrust into your wet mouth, never having felt this sort of pleasure in his life. He’s beginning to understand why Jimin is such a slut, and he wonders why on earth he’s been denying himself things like this. His eyes are half-lidded, but he’s determined to watch you as your masterful tongue brings him to the edge of hysteria.

When Jungkook doesn’t think your mouth can go further down, you surprise him once again. You go lower, and Jungkook feels your throat swallow around him until he nearly screams. Drool pools in the inside of his mouth, as if Jungkook’s body doesn’t know what to do with the pleasure. His legs nearly give out, but your hands keep him mounted.

His toes are curling, thighs trembling. “Fuck,” he whines, unable to stop himself when he thrusts a little into your mouth. “Shit, I didn’t mean to–”

You glance up at him. Your eyes are tearing up, but otherwise you look unperturbed. You flatten your tongue on the underside of his dick, tracing the vein there as you slowly come up for air. You swallow the mix of saliva and pre-cum in your mouth, licking your lips like you’ve just had a 5-star meal. You look absolutely debauched, though Jungkook knows he’s probably not doing much better.

“No gag reflex. It’s fine,” you shrug, as if you’d just told him about the weather. Your voice sounds hoarse, roughened by the assault of his dick on your throat. “Are you close?”

Jungkook doesn’t want to admit it, but– “Yes,” he says. He’s breathing like he’s just run a marathon, sweat dripping down his neck. You observe it drip down his body, as it curves down his neck and to his chest.

“You aren’t coming until I say so, got it?” You warn. He nods, cock twitching in desperation for your mouth to continue what it was doing.

But instead, you reach back to your bed, and Jungkook finally notices the tape measure that you’d left there. Oh right. Jungkook is brought back to reality, suddenly remembering why he’d gone here in the first place.

“This will only take a second, baby,” you whisper lowly, and Jungkook’s conscience is shot out of his head once more. Call him baby one more time, and Jungkook is sure to bust his load. He’s worried he might gain a Pavlovian response to the word; getting hard every time someone so much as utters “baby” for whatever reason.

You unravel the measuring tape, placing the end of it near the base of his member. You drag it over his length, whistling in awe as the number keeps growing and growing. “Shit, you really are huge,” you gasp in amazement, peering closely at the measurement to make sure you aren’t reading it wrong. “Nearly nine inches. Are you insane?”

Jungkook chuckles in embarrassment, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s… nothing?”

You snort, shaking your head at the pure audacity of this boy in front of you. “No need to humblebrag, baby. Unless you want me to degrade you, then stop being coy with me.”

At the word “degrade,” Jungkook’s erection twitches with interest. Of course, you notice. “Oh? You want me to degrade you?”

Jungkook’s face heats up, forever astonished by your brazenness. “N-no! That’s not what I–”

“You want me to call your cock pathetic, huh? Is that what you want?”

Jungkook whines, shifting from foot to foot as he tries to avoid your lustful gaze. “I…”

“Want me to call you names, huh? Took your cock so long to get hard, struggled so much to get it up. What a useless dick that you have…” you trail off, covering your mouth behind your hand to hide your grin.

Jungkook feels like he’s about to fall over. The pressure in between his legs is reaching his breaking point, and Jungkook really doesn’t want to embarrass himself by coming untouched. He has a sinking suspicion you’d enjoy it if he did, however.

Your hand slides back to his crotch, cupping his erection once more. You run your palm along him once, enjoying the way his breath hitches. He’s undeniably close and it fills you with pride knowing that you did this to him. “You’re close.” You say it like a fact.

Jungkook squirms. “Please… Faster… I’m so close, Y/N. Just a lil bit more, please…”

“I love it when you beg,” you laugh, sounding a little mean. “But since you’ve been nice all this time, I’ll let you.”

Your hands speed up, twisting and pulling him in ways that Jungkook isn’t sure are possible. He’s full-on panting like a fucking dog right now, humping shallowly into your hand like he’s lost his mind. He’s so unbelievably close, the heat in his stomach climbing higher and higher until––

“SHIT! Y/N!”

You stop, confused. That shout didn’t sound like Jungkook. You turn to your closed door, ears straining for the sound again. “Yoongi?” you call out. “Did you say something?”

Muffled footsteps come rushing closer. Your doorknob jiggles, but Jungkook had thankfully locked it when he’d come into the room earlier. Yoongi huffs from behind the door, banging loudly on the frame. “Y/N! Help! I fucking dropped the cheesecake!”

“He dropped the cheesecake,” you repeat dully to yourself. You share a look with Jungkook. The banging doesn’t stop.

“Y/N PLEASEEE THE KITCHEN IS A MESS!” Yoongi screams, uncaring of whatever he was interrupting. “YOU OWE ME! I PAID FOR YOUR RENT LAST MONTH SO YOU GOTTA HELP!”

“I hate that bastard,” you sigh, defeated. You let go of Jungkook reluctantly, giving him an apologetic look. Jungkook wants to cry. “I’m… really sorry for leaving you again like this. I…” you hesitate, looking at the door then back to him. “I do kind of owe him, so…”

Jungkook exhales shakily, bending down to the floor to pick his shirt up. He dresses quietly, cheeks burning. Why must you keep torturing him like this? He thinks his balls might explode at this point. “It’s no problem… I’ll just take care of myself at home.”

You peer at him, feeling incredibly guilty. “I have a connecting bathroom. You could use it if you want?”

“That’d be great, thanks.” Jungkook says before hurriedly rushing out of there. He refuses to look at you as he slams the bathroom door shut, breathing slowly through his nostrils in an attempt to calm himself. He waits as he listens for you to leave before his hands scramble back onto his dick, loudly crying out as he tugs himself to completion.

His legs give out from under him as he slides down to the floor, spurts of hot cum flying past his fist. Wave after wave of pleasure tingles down his spine as he slides up and down his cock. After his dick shoots its last droplet of cum, Jungkook slams his head against your bathroom wall. He’s exhausted.

He closes his eyes, thinks about how his life has led him up to this moment. Jizzing in some near stranger’s home while one of his best friends cleans up his fallen cheesecake.

“Jesus fucking Christ I hate it here,” he says. He gets up unsteadily, washing his hands of his mess.

x x x x x

Fully dressed and unsatisfyingly sated, Jungkook exits your bathroom with a flush down his neck. He keeps his eyes averted from you, but not before glaring heatedly at Yoongi as he turns to leave. Yoongi cocks his head to the side, annoyingly unaware of what he had done.

“You okay, dude? You look like a bull ready to pummel me,” Yoongi snickers, bemused by Jungkook’s flared nostrils. “Seriously. You okay?”

You slap Yoongi on the thigh, huffing angrily as you stay squatted on the floor, your other hand busy wiping off the cheesecake from the floor with a paper towel. “Shut up. You’ve done enough shitheadery today.”

Yoongi looks at the mounted clock on your fridge. “It’s only 7PM. My shitheadery doesn’t clock out until 10PM today.”

Rolling his eyes, Jungkook waves his goodbye. “Well. I guess I’ll see you guys,” he murmurs, inching closer to the door. He walks out in silence, no longer bothering to hide his pouting. He takes the elevator down, ruminating on his existence. When he reaches the ground floor, his phone immediately dings with a notification.

from: y/n l/n ❣️ hey. please don’t hate me. i’m really sorry. raincheck?

Jungkook snorts, stopping in his tracks. It’s always just rainchecks with you. He types up a quick response.

from: jjk it’s not your fault. it’s fine.

from: y/n l/n ❣️ you sure? you got off well by yourself at least, right?

from: jjk yeah. don’t worry about it.

from: y/n l/n ❣️ if you’re down… i could help you through the phone? when you get home? :( i just feel really bad. like, genuinely. yoongi is an asshole.

The offer sounds interesting, but sadly, Jungkook is out of juice for the day. He’s got a lot of stamina for many things, but it turns out he’s out of practice when it comes to his own dick.

from: jjk nah it’s fine. thanks though.

from: y/n l/n ❣️ i hope you’re still down for the contest? doyoung texted me while we were busy a while ago and said that they were free tomorrow after 12?

from: jjk no worries. i’ll be there.

from: y/n l/n ❣️ <3 ty you’re the best!! <3

He groans, slapping himself in the face. God, he is so fucking whipped.

x x x x x

The next day, Jungkook wakes up with a burning headache. He feels hungover even though he didn’t drink at all the night before, and Jungkook wonders if his brain had somehow deflated overnight with how hollow he feels. He grabs his phone from his bed stand, sees a new text from you reminding him of what he’d promised.

You had sent him an address to another apartment complex just a few bus stops away from where he lives and he assumes this must be either Doyoung’s or Taeyong’s place. He shuts his eyes for another few moments, trying his best to remember how to live.

It’s already nearing noon, so he needs to get going if he doesn’t want to be late. He shudders to think what you might do if he ghosts you. Despite how guilty you were yesterday for leaving him mid-nut, he doesn’t think that debt will cover him if he chooses not to show up to the dick-measuring contest.

On the bus, he fidgets in his seat, picking at the rips in his jeans and doing anything to keep his mind busy. He keeps thinking that someone knows what he’s up to, paranoia eating him from the inside out as he darts his eyes left and right, hoping no one can actually read minds. The bus is relatively empty, with only him and an elderly couple sitting near the front. They seem none the wiser, though Jungkook fears what they would think if they knew what he was up to.

He almost wishes he was wearing Seokjin’s thot shorts, as the skimpy excuse of clothing had somehow given him some sort of confidence the day before. Gone is that false sense of (misplaced) bravado; instead, Jungkook is filled with anxiety at the prospect of showing a couple of strangers his dick.

(A fairly human response, but that doesn’t help Jungkook’s current case.)

He arrives at the apartment complex in record time, and he sees you standing by the entrance. You look well-rested, your hands fiddling with your phone. Jungkook has only ever seen you when you were wearing that revealing dress from the club and your pajamas from your home, so he’s kind of shocked to see you look cute in your simple white dress and jean jacket. Not that you didn’t look good those other times, but seeing you look like a normal university student is astonishing, for lack of better word.

You almost look like a regular girl just waiting for her date to pick her up.

“Hey!” You greet him cheerily when you see him approach, waving at him. He waves back, the apples of his cheeks dusted pink from his previous thoughts. She’s not your date, you weirdo. Wait, she’s the weirdo. Get it together man! This shit is fucked up.

“This is their place, I assume?” Jungkook asks, looking at the building. It appears almost identical to your own apartment complex, minus the mini water fountain at the front. Ah, the wonders of living in a concrete jungle.

“Yep,” you nod. You start walking towards the entrance, with Jungkook following closely. “You ready? God, I can’t wait to see Doyoung’s stupid face. He’s gonna be so pissed!”

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Jungkook mutters, vibrating with nerves.

You both make your way to the apartment, with you humming quietly while he sweats profusely beside you. At least one of you is having fun, he thinks grimly to himself. You reach apartment 322, knocking three times before a boy with neat black hair opens the door.

“Y/N! Good to see you,” the boy says, reaching for a hug. You hug him back enthusiastically, ignoring Jungkook’s bemused stares. If this boy is either Doyoung or Taeyong, aren’t you supposed to… hate both of their guts? Or at least, not be friends? What even is going on?

When you step back, you point at Jungkook offhandedly. “Oh yeah, this is Jungkook. The guy I’m dating.”

Jungkook nearly chokes on his own spit, but luckily the boy doesn’t notice. Right… You guys are supposed to be dating. It’s not real, though. Get a grip! “Hi, I’m Jungkook,” he wheezes, shaking the other guy’s hand. “It’s nice to meet you…”

“I’m Doyoung,” he introduces himself, a small smile on his lips. “Nice to meet you too. I’ve heard… a lot about you, so to speak.”

Jungkook squeaks, earning a chuckle from Doyoung. “No need to be embarrassed. I think we’re way past that point now. Sorry for roping you into this, by the way. But when Y/N wants to fight, well… Let’s just say I’m not going to be the first one who backs down.”

“Says the dude who couldn’t even beat me at arm wrestling,” you snort, pushing past Doyoung and walking into his home. Doyoung rolls his eyes, gesturing for Jungkook to come in.

“Props to you for dating her, by the way. I’ve been friends with that demon since elementary school, so I know what she’s like. You must be a guy with strong willpower,” Doyoung says.

“I’m… Sorry for saying this, but I’m kind of confused? I didn’t know you guys were friends,” Jungkook says, examining Doyoung’s apartment. It’s a lot bigger than yours, though he does recall you saying that Doyoung was filthy rich. It’s a lot more modern looking for sure, as Jungkook can see that Doyoung has two industrial-sized refrigerators in his kitchen. What kind of university student needs two industrial-sized refrigerators?

“Yeah, we are. She actually only dated Taeyong because she knew we both liked each other but I was too stubborn to make a move, so she did the only thing she knew how to do: be an asshole,” he explains simply. Jungkook nods, needing no further clarification.

“Jungkook! Come with me,” you pop out from one of the doorways deeper in the apartment, beckoning him closer. You point at Doyoung, “And you. Get Taeyong ready. I’m gonna need a few minutes to get Jungkook in tip-top shape!”

Doyoung chuckles, shoving Jungkook towards you. “Well, that’s my cue. I’ll introduce you to Taeyong later, I guess. He’s in my bedroom, so we’ll come out in about 20 minutes? That should be enough time, right?”

Yeah. Right. Jungkook walks numbly towards you, arms rigged by his sides as you pull him into Doyoung’s spare bathroom. You lock the door close, whirling around to face him with your hands on your hips. You’ve rolled your sleeves up, appearing like a demented surgeon preparing to dissect him. “Well! Strip!”

Jungkook is clumsy when he unbuttons his jeans, his entire body feeling like it’s being weighed down by pounds of lead. He shucks them off, leaving him in his boxers (thankfully, with no holes in them. He made sure to double-check before he left this morning.) You appraise him silently, thinking of what to do next.

Before Jungkook can say anything, your hands are already on his chest, pointer fingers placed near his nipples. His piercings are visible through his thin shirt, much to your appreciation. You circle them lazily, much like how you did yesterday.

Jungkook can’t relax long enough to enjoy it, however. His shoulders are tense, fists clenched behind his back. He’s trying to stop thinking about what’s going to happen, trying to enjoy your touch. He grits his teeth, swallowing thickly.

“I… I can’t do this, Y/N.” he mumbles. “I don’t think I can get hard. I’m too nervous.”

You pause in your movements. “You’re nervous?” you purr, voice lowering. Jungkook stops fidgeting to stare at you, sensing the shift in your demeanor. “How can I alleviate that, hmm?”

“What?”

You pinch his nipples, hard. He gasps, whimpering right after from the jolt of pain. “I think I know how to calm you down,” you murmur, staring him down like he’s nothing more than a delicious snack.

“You want me to hurt you, huh? Is that it? Answer me, slut.” You say those words, but there’s a small bit of hesitation in your expression, like you’re worried if he truly likes it. When he nods enthusiastically, urging you to go on, you smile softly at him. His heart hammers in his chest, a small case of butterflies beginning to erupt there. You look kinda cute, even if you have his nipples in a twist.

“If it’s too much, just say ‘dumbo’ and I’ll stop, okay?” Jungkook nods once more, eager to get going.

You smirk, letting go of his nipples and gripping his hips instead. Your thumbs stay innocently above his boxers. “Do you like it when I call you names too, huh? You like being pinched and prodded?”

Jungkook whines, already turning needy. The anxiety from a while ago slowly drains away, leaving only lust to cloud his mind. “N-no, I just…”

“No?” You laugh, your thumbs catching on the garter of his boxers and pulling them down until the tip of his cock peeks out, already in the midst of getting hard. “Then what’s this?”

“Nggh…” Jungkook can’t say anything, can only stare helplessly at you.

“Pathetic. You have a nine-inch cock but it’s good for nothing except earning me a bit of money. Shame, isn’t it? Would be nice if you knew how to use it, then maybe I’d let you fuck me,” you say, edging closer to him until your lips find his exposed collarbones. You suck harshly, giddy when color immediately blooms at the spot. You thread your fingers into his dark, fluffy hair – and tug.

It’s too much all at once – Jungkook isn’t ready for any of it at all. He’s panting, whining, drooling a little. He shimmies his hips a little, his boxers sliding down his thighs and onto the marble floor. His cock springs free, already dripping pre-cum but still only half-hard.

“Ah, there it is. Your big useless cock. My, my… Already dirtying Doyoungie’s floor with your slick, huh? You gonna make the floor wet, baby?”

Jungkook garbles something; did he say something? Who knows. All he knows right now is that 1) you’re making him lose his marbles and 2) he’s embarrassingly close. He’s never gotten this hard so fast in his entire life, and he might be suffering from blood loss or something. His head feels light, like he’s floating. His entire body is thrumming, senses filled with nothing but you.

You gently lead him closer to the bathtub where you sit, still paying no attention to his weeping arousal. Your mouth is dangerously close to it though, but you make no move to hold him in your mouth. Instead, you hike your skirt up until it reaches your waist, revealing your white panties. Jungkook zeroes in on the darkening patch, a shuddering breath leaving his lungs. He’s screwed.

“Show me how you pleasured yourself yesterday, when you were in my bathroom,” you say, caressing the front of your panties. You grind against your palm, eyelashes fluttering as your jaw drops into an ‘o’. You exhale through your nose, laughing breathily. “If you do well, then maybe I’ll show you what I did when you left, hmm?”

Jungkook has never moved faster in his life than he did then. He takes his erection into his hands, sighing with relief when he begins to pump. He moves slower than he usually would, unwilling to finish so soon after getting this far. He’s already wound up from your teasing (and if you count the past few days, then let’s say he’s been edged long enough.)

You study him with sharp eyes, focusing on the movement of his hands. “That’s it. It must be easy jerking off with how wet you are, huh?”

“Y-yeah.” Jungkook speeds up, flicking his wrist and focusing on the sensitive tip of his cock. His attention is pulled when he sees you shift from the corner of his eye. His grip stutters when you push your panties to the side, giving him a full view of your glistening core. He licks his lips, aching to put his mouth there but only if you’d allow him.

“Why’d you stop?” You stretch your leg out, using your foot to urge his wrist to keep moving. “Come on. I want to see you.”

You circle your clit leisurely before dipping your fingers into your pussy two fingers at a time, wet enough for the slide to be smooth. Jungkook quickens his pace, wanting to match your speed. He watches, mesmerized, at the sight of your fingers pushing in and out.

The obscene sounds coming from the both of you is loud enough to mask Jungkook’s desperate mewls. He’s going faster now, wanting nothing more than to cum all over you and your pussy. You’d look good in his cum, the pearly droplets would look good in contrast with your perfect skin.

Your thighs are shaking, your own breathing shallow as you quickly approach your end. You’re moaning in tandem with him, your arousal coating your fingers generously as it begins to run down the back of your hand. You’re scissoring yourself, but it’s barely enough when you compare it to Jungkook’s cock. No, nothing would be enough to prepare you to take him. He’d ruin you, and the thought of him breaking you is enough to help you tip over the edge.

“Fuuuuuuck,” you moan, eyes screwing shut as you are wrought with the strongest orgasm of your life. More wetness drips out of you as you rub frantically at your clit, riding your high. You look at Jungkook through your eyelashes, lips parted. “Fuck,” you repeat.

Jungkook can’t hold back anymore. He knows he shouldn’t cum but the pleasure is skyrocketing at an unparalleled speed. His balls tighten, the heat in his abdomen building until he can’t hold back even if he tried. He shudders once, twice, before jets of his cum spills from over his fist, some of the droplets making their way onto your thighs. He moans at the sight, doesn’t try to change his trajectory as his mind is completely hazed with lust. “Shit, I’m–” Jungkook grinds one last time into his hand, before promptly slumping down onto the floor.

“Jesus, that was a lot of cum,” he hears you say, but he can’t bring himself to look at you. He’s ashamed, having cummed without your permission. He can feel his dick softening underneath him, and he dimly remembers that hadn’t been the plan at all. He was supposed to get hard, have his dick measured, and then finish if he was allowed. And now, he ruined everything because he couldn’t hold himself back.

“I’m… I’m sorry,” he mutters quietly, hiding behind his cum-stained hands. He cringes when the mess enters his eyes, wiping his palm somewhere on his leg. “Fuck. I messed everything up. You were just… It was too much… You…”

“Should’ve used your safety word, Jungkook.”

“It wasn’t because it was bad,” Jungkook’s cheeks flush, “It was… too good.”

You kneel beside him, cradling his chin and forcing him to look at you. He had been afraid to see disappointment in your eyes, so he’s absolutely surprised to see you look… amused. You’re even giggling a little.

“Sorry. I went a bit overboard. Even I get horny sometimes,” you shrug, wiping a bit of cum away from his forehead. Your own fingers are slick with your own cum, so really, you were just making a bigger mess of his face. Jungkook can’t say he’s opposed to a little mess. “You just looked so good that I couldn’t help myself.”

“You… enjoyed yourself, too? I’m not insane for thinking there’s something between us?”

“Honestly, you’re at least a little bit insane,” you laugh at his dumbfounded expression. “What? I’m cuckoo, and you know it. The fact that you got turned on by me even after all I’d done to you… Really puts you into perspective, huh?”

Jungkook grumbles, but he’s no longer frowning. “I guess. My friends tell me I have a type, and I guess you fit the bill.”

You laugh wholeheartedly at that, and it brings a smile to Jungkook’s face. He likes it when you laugh, he decides. “Same here. I guess you’re my type, too.”

You peer down at his flaccid dick. “Too bad about your meat flute, though. Unless you can get it back up in the next 2 minutes, then I don’t think you’re getting that three grand.”

“Please don’t call my dick that,” Jungkook says before shrugging his shoulders. “And it’s no worries. I had the biggest nut of my life and that’s good enough to me. Plus, you said you’d give me one thousand dollars if I agreed to help you out, so you better not back out on that.”

You snigger, patting him gently on the shoulder. “Yeah, whatever. But not before we get out of here and you fuck my brains out, got it? You need to work for it, baby.”

Is it bad that his cock was already beginning to stir once more? Unprecedented, as it usually took Jungkook ages to get back up. Maybe you really were the one for him.

“Deal. Let’s get out of here?”

When the two of you finish getting cleaned up and leave the bathroom with no evidence that you had even been there, Doyoung doesn’t even bat an eye as you walk past him, eager to get out of the door. Taeyong is lounging on the couch with his dick… mysteriously still in his pants, as if he had no intention of taking them off in the first place.

“Sorry, we need to leave. There’s an emergency we have to attend to. See you, Doyoungie!” You tug Jungkook along, who waves his own hasty goodbye.

The door clicks shut, leaving the couple alone once more. Taeyong grins up at Doyoung, “You really are amazing, Doyoung. How’d you know she’d end up with him?”

Doyoung flicks open his phone, showing Taeyong his text messages with none other than Kim Seokjin himself. “All according to keikaku, my love. Kim Seokjin always wins.”

[bucky-at-bedtime]

Stucky Fic Recs

So basically I went through all of my ao3 bookmarks and collated a list of some of my favourites (I couldn't fit all of them on this list, so if anyone shows interest there might be a part two).

Please read tags and descriptions of the works before reading, some of them are pretty dark or extremely horny so just make sure you check that the fic is for you!!

Please please please send me your favourite fics in return! I am always happy to hear fic recs, headcanons and any other ideas/comments you all have!

Without any further ado, here are a few of my favourite Stucky fics:

‘Not Easily Conquered’ series by dropdeaddream, WhatAreFear

Rating: M, Words: 117,692

https://archiveofourown.org/series/115516

“I told you, you heard me: I told you never to follow me into Hell. Now I’m not vain enough to think that’s why you’re out here now — if there’s any person in what’s left of this God forsaken planet who’s part of a bigger picture, it’d be you. But I’ll keep saying it until it sticks. You got nothing to prove. I’m not worth much, I damn well know that, but I’ll ask you anyway: Stay for me. If you leave me alone in this world I’ll turn into something terrible. I’ll turn into the nasty creature that’s growing inside me. This war, it’ll swallow me whole”

[To me, this fic is like the classic Stucky 101 fanfic – if you're a Stucky fan and you haven't read this, I highly recommend it. The authors explore the Steve/Bucky relationship in such an interesting, tragic, emotive way and I cry every time I read it. I couldn't praise this work enough.]

‘Ain’t No Grave’ series by spitandvinegar

Rating: M-E, Words: 131,789

https://archiveofourown.org/series/426577

"Yeah, he never calls me by my name," Steve says. "It's always champ, ace, hotshot, that kinda thing."

"Man, that is flirting," Sam says. "That nicknames thing, he is flirting with you. He's just working his way up to calling you baby or something."

Steve goes redder than a damn coke can. Sam pumps his fist. "Yes, I am so right, I am wise as hell. He did, didn't he?"

"He called me sweetheart," Steve says grimly, "because he's a drug addict with brain damage."

"Or because he looooooves you," Sam says. Captain America throws a cookie at his head. Sam eats it, because he deserves a treat for being so damn wise.”

[I'm currently re-reading this fic and absolutely loving it. The way spitandvinegar writes Bucky's road towards recovery and Steve's entire characterisation – it's all just so good. It's another one that covers some pretty dark themes, so make sure you're checkin those tags!]

'Einherjar' by thecommodore_squid

Rating: M, Words: 71297

https://archiveofourown.org/works/7157024/chapters/16249814

But Steve was fine.

Sure, he hadn’t seen Bucky in months, and sometimes he was at the punching bag so long that his skin started to peel off to expose the bones of his fingers, and sometimes he couldn’t find the energy to drag himself out of bed, and sometimes he went weeks without sleeping, and sometimes he thought about throwing himself head-first off the nearest tall structure, but he was fine.

He was absolutely, perfectly, one-hundred percent, fucking fine.

AKA In which Steve learns how to deal with his shit, and Bucky learns how to stop leaving.

[basically the definition of a recovery fic, I absolutely adore it. This is tragic and amazing and makes me cry and smile. It’s got a bunch of fantastic cameos and It really just ticks so many of my boxes.]

‘Like real People do’ by 2bestfriends

Rating: E, Words: 67,775

https://archiveofourown.org/works/19887376/chapters/47103217

“"Ask me what?" demands Bucky. "I didn't hear a question."

Steve licks his lips. "Will you stay with me? Will you come back home, Buck?"

"Home," repeats Bucky in a small voice, and then he's crying for real.”

[Basically soft lumberjack!steve and lonely twink!bucky being horny and in love. This is a comfort fic for that’s really just about my favourite boys falling in love.]

‘This City Bleeds it’s Aching Heart’ by anonymous

Rating: E, Words: 34,537

https://archiveofourown.org/works/835829/chapters/1591736

“The one where Steve and Bucky pose as a happily married couple while on a mission for SHIELD, to catch an international arms dealer hiding in a suburban neighbourhood.”

[The plot in this one is just a good time and i think it’s just a really fun take on the fake relationship trope. Also some really great characterisation.]

‘Home is Wherever I’m With You’ by cydonic

Rating: E, Words: 88,570

https://archiveofourown.org/works/18868081/chapters/44783077

“Bucky kisses Steve and Emma goodbye before they leave for school, which is why – partway down the road – Amelia turns to him and asks, “why are you and Daddy kissing?”

Which is definitely a conversation Bucky’s been expecting since Steve just did it, but it still takes him by surprise. Again, he thinks he should wait for Steve, but Amelia’s not the sort of kid to let anything rest. Plus, Bucky’s taking her to school where she will undoubtedly share the story with anyone who’ll listen.

He also stops to think that Steve’s asked him to stay, which means Bucky must be trusted with their happiness and well-being, at least in some small capacity.

Bucky clears his throat and searches for some explanation that will help Amelia make sense of this sudden turn of events. “Because we love each other,” is all he comes up with.”

[Bear with me, this is a House Flipper!Bucky Au. And dad!Steve. I just love a found family trope I’m not gonna lie to you. Another comfort fic that warms my lil heart.]

‘Lucky Seven’ by BetteNoire (WeAreWolves)

Rating: E, Words: 94,364

https://archiveofourown.org/works/7033105/chapters/16002481

“Back from where--?” James says, the sentence ending in a distinctly undignified squawk as Steve sweeps him up in his arms, bridal-style, and starts carrying him upstairs.

James tenses momentarily then relaxes into Steve's arms and throws back his head and starts laughing. The laughter peals out of him, his body shaking, his amusement occasionally broken by little gasps of pain.

“What's so funny?” Steve frowns.

“You are,” James says, still giggling. “You're ridiculous, Steve Rogers.”

“Behave. Or I will drop you,” Steve growls.

[The shrunkyclunks modern AU of my dreams featuring Mechanic!Bucky and cap!Steve and some really beautiful writing.]

'Dishonor On Your Cow' by mandarou

Rating: E, Words: 111695

https://archiveofourown.org/works/10659162/chapters/23589582

“Sergeant Barnes?”

“Oh, hell no, don’t call him that, man,” Sam warned.

“Captain Fuck Off!” Barnes shouted over him. “Fight me!”

Steve didn’t know whether to laugh or just slink away. He managed to combine the two by pacing two steps and snorting instead. Like a bull.

“I’m gonna need you to calm your ass, Barnes,” Sam said as he went limp again, obstructing Barnes’s struggling under him. “This is so undignified. That is Captain goddamn America.”

“Captain goddamn America!” Barnes repeated, louder. And angrier.

Steve cleared his throat again. “I’ve been looking for you,” he told Barnes.

“I hope you brought lube this time!” Barnes shouted.

[I’m not gonna lie it took me a minute to get into this one but by the end I was crying with them, laughing with them, and just really in my feels. Some very insane things happen so here’s a few of my favourite tags: ‘Seargent Barnes is done with your Shit Steve’, ‘blatant disrespect of a man’s motorcycle’, ‘Steve you ding dong’ and ‘PR nightmares in the form of Supersoldiers’.]

Propietary Information by Notlucy

Rating: E, Words: 85141

https://archiveofourown.org/works/11964402/chapters/27054777

“Okay, so Bucky Barnes has a crush on Steve Rogers. The guy's gorgeous, talented and, oh yeah, the Chief Design Officer of the biggest tech company in the world. In other words: he's so far out of Bucky's league that he might as well be in a different stratosphere.”

[We were never gonna get through this list without a Sugar Daddy!AU (I have a weakness). This one is… saucy and sexy and sweet and uh pretty kinky so read the tags and all. I’ve read it a few times, and I love the way the author has written Steve in this one, he just makes my heart go '!!!']

‘Roots Have Grown’ by AustinB

Rating: M, Words: 17280

https://archiveofourown.org/works/6912451/chapters/15767941

“Bucky is a mildly agoraphobic veteran with funds to spare, who becomes enamored with the cute blonde guy in his building.

So when Steve mentions needing a roommate to cut down on rent costs, Bucky decides it would be a good idea to volunteer.”

[Another weakness of mine is Roommate AUs, and this one is phenomenal. I tend to go for post serum!Steve stories more often, but this is a pre-serum Steve that I just adore.]

‘The Cold Never Bothered me Anyway’ by icoulddothisallday

Rating: E, Words:75562

https://archiveofourown.org/works/11728869/chapters/26425530

“Bucky Barnes has spent his whole life in a state of mild hypothermia. Steve Rogers has spent the last 70 years in the ice. The two things aren’t related until, suddenly, they are. Shrunkyclunks soulmate AU (AKA the awkward bb au).”

[I think this is the only soulmate AU in my bookmarks? I would totally be down to read more though! This one is really fun and really enjoy Bucky’s characterisation here!]

'War, Children' by Nonymos

Rating: E, Words: 106615

https://archiveofourown.org/works/5373050/chapters/12409394

“After Bucky was released from the hospital, it only took him a couple of weeks to give up on himself. Difficult to believe in any kind of future when the simple act of staying alive was almost too big an effort.

Out the frosted window, across the street, there was a tiny homeless guy burrowing under an awning.”

[An interesting exploration of Bucky’s PTSD with a trans!Steve which was a cool take on his character too!]

'The Company You Keep' by orbingarrow

Rating: G, Words: 51191

https://archiveofourown.org/works/3468605/chapters/7613072

“Hurt, hungry, and on the run, the Winter Soldier doesn’t have a lot of safe options to go to for help. Figuring that any friend of Captain Steve Rogers is unlikely to be HYDRA, Bucky takes a chance and reaches out to the first Avenger he can find.

It works out better than anyone could have expected. Eventually.”

[hurt/comfort, recovering Bucky, protective Steve, found family and domestic avengers, need I say more? I absolutely loved this one]

[komoryriku]

Queering KH Part 3: A JoshNeku Aside

An Example In Practice

If you already feel like you understand queer coding then you can skip this but I wanna play here for a minute x). KH as a series is rather subliminal in its queer coding, which makes sense since it was originally released in 2002, which meant its gay story would need to be highly censored. As such, I don’t wanna just jump in without giving you a clear sense of how to decode a queer text and what you’ll wanna look for when queering a text. So let’s do something super fun and easy as fuck. Let’s Queer Joshua! As if he doesn't do that himself already lmao

Joshua Kiryuu is one of my favorite characters- ever lol he is so shameless in how gay he is. But I’m getting ahead of myself here, let’s go back to how we’re gonna decode Joshua as gay. 

So Joshua Kiryuu is a- character in The World Ends With You (TWEWY), a game developed by the same team as Kingdom Hearts, and creatively produced by KH’s Nomura Tetsuya himself. Spoilers ahead btw.

Just from looking at him, he isn’t necessarily gay coded. He looks like your stereotypical angelic bishonen but as I said before, that doesn’t mean anything in Japan. Only an American like me would look at this guy and say “This asshole is one dangerous twink” lol. What you should know about TWEWY however is it is a very contemporary fantasy story about dead kids in Shibuya receiving game instructions from (gay) reapers in the form of memes on their cell phones. This may be a stretch, but Nomura’s KH team already has to keep in mind how things come off to American audiences, especially with a game like this so targeted to teens. As such, I suppose it could be worth considering that Joshua was designed to be so feminine looking, on top of everything else I’m about to drop, which would make him seem gay coded to American players. Him displaying feminine behavior in the form of constant wrist flicks sure wouldn’t go unnoticed in America either… intentional or not that’s top tier gay coding in ‘merica right there. But like I said, probably meaningless by Japanese standards.

Here is what clear coding IS given to us though: Joshua’s text.

Joshua spends a whole scene demanding he be given Pink for his code-color during this cute little kid adventure he’s a part of. A menial, fun little task for Kami-Sama in his off time lol.

Pink is also typically a feminine color. This is true in Japan as well, that’s why Eri and Kairi are covered in Pink, as they are femme and it is standard for a girly girl. In America, its also a gay code, though I can’t say for sure if that counts as one Japan. The fact that a male here is actively embracing Pink for his code color still signals a non-normative personality though. And they certainly recognized its place in romantic coded symbolism:

“Blue and Pink go together.” Blue being Neku. See below.

I love reappropriating heteronormative tropes for our own gay agenda~

Joshua insists on going into the tunnel with Neku, and flirts with him in doing so. Yes you heard me, he flirts. Serious or unserious, Joshua flirts with Neku. He says he could never live with himself if he let Neku go it alone, and proposes they “spend some quality time” together.

Shiki and Beat then make the flustered comment that they didn’t realize Joshua and Neku were a couple, embarrassing Neku but amusing Joshua who leans right into it by calling him “dear.” This coding might actually be too easy lol that’s almost just gay text in itself, really. The characters insinuate that Joshua and Neku are a couple, due to Joshua’s unabashed flirting with Neku, and Joshua never once shies away from it. 

Neku’s response might leave us rather unsure of his own sexuality or feelings about Joshua, but he hardly fights the assumption they’re a couple beyond angrily shaking his fist at how Joshua just embarrassed him. But even so, either way, Joshua never once gives us a reason to think he himself is not gay, even if he isn’t interested in Neku as a partner. (Play TWEWY so you can learn about how likely it is that Neku actually likes Joshua back though 8)). Joshua should be well aware of how gay he is coming off to these people so if he cared to follow heteronormative rules, he would’ve stopped by now if he wanted to. He clearly doesn’t want to lol. Near-explicit as this may be, it is still text that depended on the Blue x Pink coding of romantic archetypes to be discussed by the characters. The only thing working against the fact that Joshua is gay is that you could argue that Joshua is just flirting with Neku to make him uncomfortable… But even as Yoshiya-, a Lamb of a Boy, a Joshua with no godliness or memories of TWEWY, the meek version of himself, -Joshua is still trying to read Neku poetry as soon as they meet. Reading poetry to someone is typically a signal or code that this character likes that person.

If these two were a boy and a girl, there would be no doubt at this point that Joshua is highly attracted to Neku. Always remember that standard in coding. If it makes sense for a boy and a girl to be romantic based on the coding, then it should and surely will make as much sense for 2 boys to be romantic with the same coding. If Shiki were to read Neku a poem, heteronormativity would assume she likes him romantically. Now, remove that heteronormative lens. If Joshua were to read Neku a poem, queer coding should tell you that Joshua likes Neku romantically.

It’s simple math. Straight: a+b=c Gay: a+b=c Straight: Shiki + poetry = Crush on Neku Gay: Joshua + poetry = Crush on Neku

The only difference being that the gay equations go unrecognized most of the time lol. Shiki is also coded as a lesbian so I hope you can forgive me for just using her as a hetero example.;;

Just as blue and pink go together with male and female, so do they go together with male and male. Blue and Pink are still kinda heterosexual-based symbols though..

But you know what IS definitely a gay symbol? 

Rainbow.

As if there were any doubts left about where Joshua’s sexuality lies, he gave us the most damning symbol possible besides explicitly kissing Neku or screaming “I’m Gay”, censors be damned. After all Joshua’s fuss about demanding to be Pink in their group’s color coding, he sees a Rainbow pin and IMMEDIATELY demands to be the Rainbow Pin. MVP Chef Doi making the rainbow pin just for Joshua specifically is so sweet too<3

And that’s not even covering the subtext about Joshua in the rest of TWEWY, (I didn’t even mention the Ramen Date he took Neku on), or even in Dream Drop Distance (didn’t comment on the longing he expresses to be with his friends, to be with Neku again). These are just some of the most explicit codings I know of for him. Hopefully you can agree with me when I say in the end, despite how much straight players might try to dismiss Joshua as gay, it is honestly just easier to believe he is gay, loves being gay, and actively wants to be with Neku. 

So now we’ve gotten through the preliminary, back to KH. The reasonI had us do that is that Kingdom Hearts, while still very gay, relies a lot harder on subtext than Joshua gives enough of a fuck to bother with. So I wanted to exercise us in some easy coding that is much harder to get past a straight pair of eyes before going into KH in which trained eyes are a greater requirement for finding and analyzing the subtext in various places. Fret not though, because this is Kingdom Heart’s secret weapon: the overt gay is so well hidden that the straight people who would cancel the gay agenda simply Cannot see it. Cannot touch it. Cannot stop it. Thankfully, WE will have the tools and power to uncover the gay subtext within. Now let’s deep dive into Kingdom Hearts.~

See you in Part 4 for Dream Drop Distance fun~

[a-wolf-and-his-boy]

End Of June: Sterek Fanfic Recs’

Hello all! I am incredibly sorry that this rec list is late, Tumblr recently went through an update that I didn’t know about and was left staring angrily at a white screen where my dashboard was supposed to be. Anyways as an official apology I’ve added extra reading material to keep you entertained ;) x. 

(Fuck you they said) As they threw their threads from their wedding bed by dearericbittle (dutchmoxie) [9/9 - 96,199 - Mature]

First Son Stiles Stilinski just accidentally caused an international incident. And apparently the only way to save human-werewolf relations is to marry him off to Prince Derek of Triskele. Stiles is going to need all of his acting skills to make the marriage look real, because the Prince is kind of a fucking asshole.

The paint’s supposed to go where? by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella) [1/1 - 1,781 - Teen+]

“Okay,” Derek said, coming up beside him and holding out the can of blue paint. “Dip your palms in this.”

“Why?” Stiles asked, even as he stuck his right hand into the can and coated it in the blue substance. “Also, why are you making me move when it means you’re going to have to reposition me just right all over again?”

“Because I was only doing that to drive you crazy,” Derek insisted with a sassy smirk. Damn that sassy bastard! “We’re both going to be moving for this.”

“Okay,” Stiles said uncertainly, his left hand now coated in paint. “Why?”

Murder, He Wrote by mklutz [1/1 - 31,682 - Explicit]

And that was how Stiles accidentally became a New York Times bestselling author.

Both your hands in the holes of my sweater by dearericbittle (dutchmoxie) [1/1 - 2,223 - Teen+]

Laura Hale is trying to murder him. How dare she give Derek the softest, most adorable sweater! When she knows that Stiles' weak bisexual heart can't handle that level of cute from the man he's most definitely in love with. "It has thumbholes." Yeah, well thanks for that, Derek.

On my Way by Gia279 [1/1 - 17,955 - Not Rated]

Huge black paws smacked the window, followed by a fuzzy face smooshing up against it.

He scrambled over the gear shift, tipping into the passenger seat. Bear, he thought hysterically. It had to be a bear, a freaking bear.

A big pink tongue rolled out, lips pulling back as the creature panted.

And the Cold Pulls You Down by blacktofade [1/1 - 12,967 - Explicit]

“Do you believe in ghosts?” Stiles asks Derek one night after he’s settled into bed, listening to the sound of Derek brushing his teeth in the bathroom.

“Ghosts?” Derek asks, voice muffled by toothbrush and paste as he stands in the doorway to stare at Stiles.

Or, the one where Stiles is 99.9% sure their house is haunted and no one believes him.

Hot Dad Derek by Anzieizna [1/1 - 3,380 - General]

After a few more minutes of Michael’s story, Stiles was once again distracted by the sound of excited squealing. He looked over his date’s shoulder to see the kid slapping his spoon onto his meal, sending chunks of food flying into the air with laughter.

The dad - wow, what a jawline - hurried to stop him, reprimanding him as he held his hand gently. The kid looked about a second away from crying, his lip already quivering and his eyes misting over, and like a flip had been switched Hot Dad went from ‘angry parent’ to ‘caring father’ real quick.

Right now, watching this gorgeous guy wipe away at some food at the corner of his son’s mouth, Stiles imagined being part of that little family.

Then Michael clicked his fingers in front of his face.

-- OR: --

Stiles is on a bad date - like, a really, really bad date - but the cute baby being adorable behind the guy kind of makes up for it. Oh yeah, and the dad is hot as hell. That helps.

fly high by starcanopus [1/1 - 2,438 - General]

"And there goes Hale with the Quaffle - you know, he looks pretty good in uniform, the green really brings out his eyes - and oof, it's stolen by Mahealani. Good job, Danny-boy! Mahealani passes to Argent, who manages to dodge Little Hale’s Bludger - dodges Reyes - SCORES!” Stiles pumps his fist and hollers, “Take that, you slimy, scheming little s-”

He dodges Finstock’s lunge and holds the megaphone out of reach.

“Sorry Professor, got caught up in the moment.”

Kiss the Cook by idyll [1/1 - 5,004 - Teen+]

Derek's a professional chef, and Stiles is a blogger who butchers his recipes.

Hemingway Can Suck It by orphan_account [1/1 - 10,054 - Teen+]

“For those of you who just transferred into this class or simply decided that day one wasn’t important enough to attend, I’m Professor Hale. Welcome to English 346, The American Novel.”

Stiles is pretty sure his mouth is hanging open right now and that his eyes are wide with shock, because holy fuck, he thinks he knows why his students transferred. Hell, if he was still an undergrad, he probably would have transferred, too.

(Or: In which Stiles is a Biology professor and Derek thinks he's a student.)

The Importance of History and Math by WolfMadeFromAsh [1/1 - 7,615 - Not Rated]

Derek and Stiles are both seniors, a misunderstanding freshman year has Stiles' best friend hating Derek. Derek's being crushing on Stiles since freshman year, problem is he has issues getting himself to talk to him.

I want you (no, I mean your art) by ElisAttack [3/3 - 8,983 - Mature]

"Scott, remember that new encaustic painting I sold last week?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Derek Hale's fucking a twink beside it."

Or the one where Stiles is an artist whose artworks keep appearing in his favourite porn star's videos.

Sleeping Dogs by starsystems [6/6 - 42,370 - Mature]

Let sleeping dogs lie.

Prov. Do not instigate trouble. Leave something alone if it might cause trouble.

Derek Hale is asleep in Stiles's bed. And it just escalates from there.

Because of course it does.

[youllfloattoomotherfucker]

starker twincest? like bad boy tony gets jealous when some of his friends flirt with little shy baby peter and just ruins his “baby” brother

Hey, I loved writing this so thank you so much for requesting it! 

Find it on ao3: "Brother Starkercest" by LisaFQueen

Taglist:

@softly-starker @peterparkerismybaby @spn-samifer @annahenderswagg @thirstystarker @gracieopalxx @winter-starker @ironspiidey @starkerbingo @silkystark @book-reviews-by-titch @tony-is-my-daddy

@scared2death2live @cherrysugar3247

“Hey, fuckface!” 

Tony yelled, flipping a cigarette between his fingers and putting it in his mouth. 

Both his 'friend' and his little brother turned around, a surprised look on the first face and a nervous one on the other. 

“Well, look at that, how cozy.” 

Tony smirked while stepping closer with broad and confident steps. Once in front of the teen, he lit his cig without looking up. 

Aaron's lips widened too, swinging an arm around Peter Parker. 

“Yo, this cutie here was telling me how good he can suck dick. I asked to demonstrate it, but he said his big brother would get angry. You won't, right Tony?” 

The idiot was still under the impression Tony was amused, didn't mind him touching Peter. 

Stupid mistake, Tony thought. 

He smiled darkly at Aaron, whose face dropped immediately. The fire in Tony's eyes was obvious, and the other let go of Peter immediately. 

Innocent as Peter was, he put three steps over to Tony and nuzzled his neck, crawling under his arm. 

Tony let his eyes drop from Aaron's and by the time they had reached Peter's, they were soft and reminded the boy of chocolate. 

“You alright, baby?” 

Peter nodded nervously and melted at Tony's touch of his hair. 

Tony didn't buy it and shot a furious look at the idiot. 

“What'd he do to you? Talk dirty or did he touch you?” 

Peter's voice was quiet so Tony had to strain to hear it and dipped his head to his brother's ear. 

“He - He touched my thigh, over my jeans. And he told me to suck him and his other friends. One of them also kissed my head but he's already gone.”

Peter pointed his finger to the place the other friends had gone off to. 

Tony shook his head, gave Peter a reassuring smile and stepped away from the boy. 

Aaron was already backing away, knowing full well what was coming. 

“You think you can touch my little brother? Hm? You think he's your little sex toy?” 

Tony kept walking, not losing eye contact for even a second. He was raging and Aaron saw. 

“Tones, I swear I thought you'd be cool with it. Jack and I were just fooling around, besides he really looks like a twink! Of course we're gonna make fu - Mmpfh!” 

With one blow from Tony's fist the guy was knock-out. Peter gasped loudly, staring at the fallen body with wide eyes. 

“C'mon, let's go home.” 

The teen said as he grabbed Peter's wrist and guided him to his motorcycle. 

The drive home was good. Peter clung to Tony and smelled him all the way, not even ashamed anymore as he nuzzled the older's neck. 

He was way passed the phase of admitting he had a crush on Tony. In fact, it seemed that Tony took advantage of that. Touching Peter, spending time with him, knocking on his door in the middle of the night. 

It felt good. And Tony was so damn good-looking, too. Black jacket, army boots, motorcycle, not to mention his hot rebellious attitude and smoking. 

Once home, Peter followed Tony into the living room, where he quickly looked right and left to check if their parents were home. 

“Come with me.” Tony ordered without throwing a glance at his younger twin. 

They went up the stairs, Peter definitely not staring at the rip in Tony's jeans right under his ass. 

Once upstairs, Tony threw open his bedroom door and pulled Peter in it. The boy lost his balance and Tony guided his fall, so he landed on his bed. 

“Listen, we need to talk.” 

Tony's voice was stern and his eyes were full of… Something. It made Peter shudder. 

“What about?” 

“You know what about, Pete.” 

Peter shifter uncomfortably, feeling the stare hot in his face. Tony was kneeling in front of him, yet Peter felt smaller. 

They both held their breaths and stared at one another. 

With a jolt Peter's dick came to life, at the exact moment he realised Tony was tracing his thigh lightly with one finger. 

“Did he do this?” 

It took the boy a while before he shook his head, eyes never leaving Tony's. 

“No, he pushed harder.” 

Tony hesitated, then let go. He sighed and broke his stare, making Peter more nervous. 

“So. Talk.”

Tony said. 

Peter shrugged, mumbling his answer. 

“Dunno, they obviously wanted something…” 

“Yes, your pretty mouth!” 

Tony snapped, patience fading quickly. 

Peter's eyes widened at him, not sure what to do. He could feel his face go red and watched Tony curse at himself. 

“Sorry, it's just - look, these guys aren't real friends and you're so…”

Tony lifted his finger and stroked Peter's bottom lip with his thumb. 

“What?” Peter choked out, voice breaking. His heart was pounding and he felt like exploding. Tony had to be doing this on purpose! Especially the way he kept glancing at Peter's lips and eyes. 

“I'm what, Tony?” 

“Innocent.” Came the delayed reply. Tony could feel the soft flesh and warmth of Peter's breath, savoring the touch. 

Their intense stare came to a halt when Peter's breath hitched audibly. 

He sprung up and almost knocked Tony over in his way to the other side of the room. 

“Fuck, Tony, I can't - I can't do this anymore, alright? You're driving me crazy! And, and, those guys - maybe I wanted to suck their dick, okay? Maybe -” 

Tony followed Peter, getting up and pacing in front of him. 

“You what now?” 

Shit! 

Peter was scared, remembering all the times Tony had used this dangerous voice to threaten other people. He nervously fidgeted with his shirt. 

“I don't know, maybe I just want to suck something and imagine it's…”

He broke off his sentence, the meaning obvious in the way he was eyeing Tony. The latter snapped, both angry and aroused at the thought. 

“Listen here kid, you're not going to touch someone else, because I won't let you. Other people will just ruin you.”

“Maybe you should be ruining me.”

Peter didn't miss a beat, eyes full of lust and his self-restraint broken. 

Tony blinked once before taking Peter's wrist and slamming them against the wall behind the boy. 

Peter didn't expect it and felt his heart beat loudly in his chest. 

“Watch that pretty mouth, before I fuck it!”

Peter moaned into Tony’s mouth, the older’s tongue aggressively claiming Peter’s.

Everything was too much; Tony’s hands on his hips, their mingled breaths, the fact that he was making out with his twin brother!

“To - Tony!”

Peter wanted to warn Tony but he just kept kissing Peter, sucking on his lip and bruising his hips with his fingers.

“What, baby boy?” Tony growled, thrusting his hips into Peter’s, causing them both to moan.

“We shouldn’t be doing this.” 

Peter breathed out harshly, internally not agreeing to his words.

Luckily for him, Tony could see it in his eyes. The guilt he’s supposed to feel but is not quite there.

“I know, but who cares what we should be doing? Just tell me if I’m outta line and I’ll stop.”

Then he stepped back a little to give Peter some space, waited for the answer but all he saw was the boy’s eyes hungrily taking him in.

“No, please.”

Peter’s voice came out softly and broken. This is what he wants, what he’s been wanting for a long time, Tony thinks.

“Didn’t think so.” Tony stated, taking Peter’s hand to guide him to the bed.

When Peter reached the bed, Tony shoved him on it, immediately following after. He grinded on Peter’s ass and the boy moaned into the pillow, helpless.

“Listen baby, I’m gonna fuck your ass raw, and you’re gonna moan my name, understand?”

Peter tried to turn his head sideways but Tony grabbed it and gently tugged, making Peter bite his lip.

“Oh - okay, Tony.”

Tony grinned, enjoying this. 

“And that’s daddy to you, princess!”

“Aah!”

Peter moaned as Tony had undone his pants and was already pushing a finger against his hole.

“Fuck, Tony!” Peter hissed, leaning on his arms so Tony could remove his pants. He took his time to undo his own belt, and then came forward, showing it to Peter.

“Are you comfortable being tied up, pretty boy?”

Tony mocked lightly, but still waited for Peter’s permission. The boy nodded heavily and let Tony tie his hands together.

Then Tony was quiet while undoing his own clothes, leaving Peter in agony of what’s to come.

“No peeking!” he warned.

When he was hard and ready, Tony set himself between Peter’s legs, gently tugging at them to place them right.

“Tony, hurry up, please!” Peter moaned obscenely, impatient.

Tony tsk-ed and grinned before teasing the hole with the head of his cock.

“Didn’t I tell you to call me daddy? Huh?”

The boy pushed back on his knees, wanting the friction.

“Stop!” Tony warned as he smacked Peter’s ass.

“Aah! ‘M sorry, daddy.”

The older brunet smiled wickedly, satisfied with Peter’s obedience.

“Good boy, that’s better. Now tell me, what dirty thoughts of your older brother do you have?”

Peter squeaked and his face turned bright red, already ashamed and shy as it was. He really didn’t wanna say it out loud, it would just sound more horrible.

“Hm?” Tony urged, pushing the head in slowly.

“Oh God Tony!” Peter bit his lip at the pressure. He had to grab the blanket and squeezed as hard as he could.

“Fuck, uhm, okay, I - I think you’re ridiculously h - hot when you’re smoking and that - fucking hell - pants makes your ass look good!” 

“Good boy!” Tony muttered in his ear, now fully pushing in until the base of his cock. Fuck, this felt good! He never imagined fucking Peter would feel so right.

And then Peter moaned again, long and hard, and Tony’s self-restraint broke. He roughly grabbed Peter’s sides and started to fucking into him with a fast pace.

Peter on his part was trying to muffle all his moans by biting the pillow. He could swear he’d come right there and then, if Tony wasn’t distracting him with the dirty talk in his ear.

“Dirty boy, you like getting fucked by me, don’t you?” Tony grunted. 

He was pushing in fast and hard, wanting to go as deep as he could.

“Aah, daddy please!”

“Please what, kid?”

Tony grabbed Peter’s brown mop of hair and tugged at it, making it easier to bite on the boy’s neck. Sharp teeth claimed the soft flesh and Tony bit down, sucking a hickey on the skin.

“Fuck! Please please wanna cum! Fuck, Tony!”

Tony grinned, pleased with himself. With the same roughness as his pace he took Peter’s cock in his hand and started stroking without mercy.

“If you make me cum before you I’ll suck your cock dry.” Tony muttered, convinced that the image of him sucking Pete off should do it. And he was right. Within seconds Peter was shivering and whimpering through his orgasm, sticking his ass higher against Tony, as if he wanted to completely swallow him.

Tony petted the boy’s hair, stroking it much gentler now. 

Peter smiled brightly, content and just as he was about to turn his head around, Tony pushed it into the pillow and started fucking him with a vigorous pace again.

“I’m not finished with you yet, baby boy!”

Tony grunted and thrusted for his life. He moaned and his whole body shook. When his orgasm reached him he was biting down on Peter’s neck, who let out a painful whine.

“Fuck, Petey, fuck, good boy!”

Both of them were sitting on the bed afterwards, Peter snuggling into Tony’s chest happily. Tony was reading a science article on his phone while Peter joined him.

“You happy now, kid?”

Tony’s voice was lazy and he felt satisfied, relaxed in his whole body.

Peter nodded heavily and then looked up for another cute peck on the lips.

“You better! And this,” Tony rubbed over the red spot on Peter’s neck, “is to show you’re mine and mine alone, got it?”

Peter giggled and rubbed the spot himself. 

“I wouldn’t want it any other way, daddy.”

[ask-the-crimson-king]

What’s your honest opinion on Darius? What do you like about him? Dislike about him? And do you have any tips for me?

[I’m going to be honest. I am going to give the criticisms and things I personally have problems with, and you’re free to write all of them off as simply my opinion and change nothing. Darius is your OC, and you can do what you want with him. I also have nothing against you, the mun, and if any of this comes across as snappy or mean-spirited, know that is not the intent. 

Now. That being said. 

Darius is an interesting character for several reasons. I think his base concept is pretty cool. Having a character survive a virus bombing and still living among the Imperium and even founding his own Chapter in order to serve it is a neat concept.

However. I do have several qualms with him. I’ll get through those so this can end on a much more positive note.

One of them is how he feels written like a Creepypasta OC from 2014. He feels like, if he HAD been built for that fandom, he’d be the stereotypical ‘everyone bullied me and I killed all my bullies and I killed my abusive parents too’ Jeff the Killer clone who was always broody and nigh-invincible.

Don’t get me wrong, I don’t have anything against powerful characters. I’m playing one myself. But it feels less natural with Darius. If that makes any sense? I don’t know how to really describe it. It just doesn’t feel right to me. 

I think one of the reasons why it kinda rubs me the wrong way is compounded by how the Revenants feel like they were made only to hype up Darius and were given personalities as an afterthought. I think there’s a bit too much of ‘oh Darius is such a badass that he does this and this and has survived this’ and also ‘oh but he’s also so broken, so so broken, and we’ve all tried so hard to fix him but he refuses to let himself be fixed’ coming from them. I think those vibes are the biggest reasons why I equate him to the 2014-era creepypasta OCs. “I’m so broken, but I can also kill you so easily heh heh.” 

Also I have a bit of a problem with the ‘you call me lord and you get my fist in your skull’ thing he has going on. It just feels like a bit much. You can have a laid back leader without them going ‘address me casually or else I’ll maim you’. I wouldn’t mind if it was jokingly, but it just doesn’t feel that way.

With my criticisms out of the way, let’s get onto the good stuff.

Darius definitely still feels like a son of Mortarion who was still loyal to the Imperium. I don’t know too too much about the Death Guard, but they still seem like stubborn stalwart bastards (I don’t mean that insultingly mind you) and Darius would definitely fit in with them. 

He also has that Chapter Master vibe about him. He feels like a leader. Even if you never introduced the rest of the Revenants and had them as cardboard cutouts instead, I could still see him commanding and bringing together an inner circle and maintaining a chain of command. He has that sort of veteran vibe, like a ‘alright, y’all are fucking kids in comparison to me, but I’m gonna lead you and teach you the good shit anyway because we need to help protect people. You signed up for this bullshit, and now we’re gonna wade through it together’ sort of thing. 

Another thing, the twink “bell”. I think that’s a nice way to bring a bit of humor to Darius’ character. Hide yer twinks, kiddos, else Darius is going to come screaming out of the Immaterium looking for them. Nice little touch. 

Also also he seems to be very loving with his boyfriends off the few things I’ve read, which is also nice. A good way to balance out the humors. 

Now, advice & improvements:

I’ve seen you use ‘Darius’ mask shows no emotion’ several times. It feels moot and pointless. I get that you’re trying to juxtapose that with what he is saying, but it feels kinda... obvious? None of the Astartes helms show much emotion past that portrayed, like Kharn’s snarling helm or the “standard” emotionless design. I would probably advise either finding a different way to provide that juxtaposition or trying to find a way to describe that exact thing differently. Maybe something more like;

“Fucking bastard,” he spat, his anger apparent despite the unmoving expression on his helm.

Another thing that feels a bit repetitive; the size of the Revenants. I think there are better ways to say ‘my fleet will fucking crush you’ than to state ‘we break the Codex Astartes by having about 2,000 marines in our Chapter’. Hell you’d think, with Darius being as old as he is, him and his Chapter would have gained a bit of renown, wouldn’t they? For an alternative, maybe try:

“Do you really want to try and make threats? I could wipe you out with only a fraction of my fleet. I’ve conquered star systems with fewer ships and companies than you can count on your fingers. So would you like to say that again?”

Do you see how that feels like it’s a bit more weighty than simply ‘my fleet is huge and we have 2,000 Astartes’? 

Basically; diversify your language. Try to show, don’t tell. People can go to your profile to learn the precise size of the Revenants, Darius doesn’t need to tout it each time he’s threatened.

Another thing that’s just something I’ve carried over from other sites and rp’s; try to avoid the one line or three word replies. I am sometimes guilty of this myself, especially when I’m burnt out and stressed and I’m like ‘oh fuck I need to get a reply out NOW this person has been waiting for a fucking WEEK, D A M N I T’, but sometimes I’ve seen people send four+ lines and get two or so words back. Try describing how the character in question is speaking, or try to describe their body language, what they’re thinking at that moment in time. Add just a bit more flavor.

IN SUMMARIUM: Darius is a character who definitely has potential, but isn’t without his major flaws. He does have some good and interesting aspects about him, but they feel weighed down by the fact that I can’t shake the vibe of a JtK clone from him. Your writing is pretty good, but a few things feel repetitive and you need a bit more work with show don’t tell. 

I hope this is helpful, and I’m sorry if any of this seemed antagonistic or ‘I am holier than thou’. I’m simply a nerdy dumbass who likes to analyze writing and try and point out the flaws while giving a few ideas on how to fix said flaws and make other writers better. I usually ask for others to provide similar feedback, and this is the type of feedback I’d get from teachers grading my papers throughout my school life.]

[thefateofdesire]

Coachella - Day 2 - Continued

“Diana,” I said, taking a step back. “What… what are you doing here?”

I stared at her across the parking lot, inching closer to Carlos, afraid she might be there to potentially harm him.

“I,” Diana said, removing her cigarette from her lips, “am here to check up on you.” She flicked the butt of her cigarette on the ground, stomping it out with one of her heels as she strutted towards me.

“What for?” I said, softly clenching and relaxing my right fist.

“That’s a good one,” Diana said, chuckling to herself. “I mean, I am just the one witch that helped you get off with this probation period instead of having to completely revoke your magic. I’m still waiting for that thank you basket you promised, by the way.”

Diana wasn’t wrong. From the very beginning, she was on my side; even when I wasn’t aware of what was going on. When I was being whisked away in my dreams to the council for my pre-trial punishments and transformations, Diana was secretly compiling reasons and justifications to not sentence me to become a mortal. At the end of it all, I would’ve been trapped in the 18-year-old twink body I was eventually transformed into, and stripped off my magic; forced my live the rest of my life completely powerless.

“My bad,” I said, still tense. “My brain isn’t exactly the way it used to be. I swear, nowadays I find myself more drawn to lusting after my own reflection than remembering the promises I made to people.”

“That I can believe,” Diana said. “In any case, I see you’ve decided to go through with the arrangement: prove to the council that your methods of transforming mortals is for the better of this world and ours.”

“I have,” I said. “I’ve already directly improved four lives, and who’s to say how many more considering the first three was a gang of bullies.”

“I agree,” Diana said, pulling another cig from her purse. “Nevertheless, since I stuck my neck out for you, I’ve been assigned to monitor you for the remainder of your probation to make sure you don’t fall out of line and start transforming anyone, mortal or magical, for your own personal agenda.”

I squinted my eyes. Typical of the council – they never liked being challenged. And now after processing what Diana just told me, I should’ve expected this to happen. I vaguely remembered one of the warlocks scoffing that a “kid will do what a kid wants to do” during my trial and how “children need surveillance.” Pfft. It’s not my fault I was biologically 28 years old and the old fart was pushing five centuries.

“I don’t need a babysitter, Diana,” I said, crossing my arms. “I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, but I think I can handle this on my own.”

“Raul,” Diana said, exhaling smoke. “It’s not up to me. It’s up to them. I have to give at least weekly reports from now on, sometimes more when there’s repeated transformations occurring. And since you’ve already done, what, four, you said? I think I’m going to need to pop in a couple more times this weekend.”

Sometimes I wondered if Chad was a low-key clairvoyant; I swear he could feel when something bad was coming from a mile away.

If I couldn’t shake Diana off my back, I couldn’t shake the council off it either. I would have to be extra cautious from here on out. Adam’s transformation still would be considered safe under the arrangement, as would the bullies, but I would be liar if I wasn’t already thinking about tweaking Chad a little when I got back home. Guess that was out of the picture for the time being.

“Fair enough,” I said, not wanting to cause any more friction. “You do what you gotta do. But, next time, do you think you could give ya boy a little bit of a heads up?”

“That,” Diana said, the side of her mouth curling up, “is something I cannot promise.”

Well, it was worth a try.

“Oh, and Raul,” Diana said. “One more thing before I go.”

I raised my eyebrows, feigning interest.

“The council wanted me to lay out what would happen if you fail to provide enough justification throughout this process. If you fail to prove your transformations provide significant improvements to both the mortal and magical worlds…”

“I’ll have my powers stripped away,” I said.

“No,” Diana said, stamping out the rest of her cigarette, “I’m afraid I couldn’t manage to get them to agree on that for your potential sentencing.”

I furrowed my eyebrows and bit the side of my lip. Worse than becoming a mortal? What could be worse than that?

“If you fail, Raul,” Diana said. “You’ll be required to restart your magical studies, with a different specialization, as a first year student, of course, and be given an entirely different identity. Raul Flores will be no more.”

“What?” I said, my voice rising. “But in order to learn a new specialization I would have to be-“

“An adolescent, yes” Diana said, interrupting me. “You’ll be regressed back into young teenagerhood, and enrolled at the institution in the magic world, considering your first time ‘round learning in the mortal world would be deemed a failure. You won’t have your mind erased – you’ll be forced to remember your past life, your past powers, yet unable to ever cast any shape shifting spells ever again, and you’ll start completely over.”

“But,” I said, my eyes widening. “Chad…”

“Yes, I’m afraid he would continue to live out the remainder of his mortal life, not remembering you at all. Everyone here in the mortal world would live out the rest of their lives without you, actually.”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

This couldn’t be happening to me. How could I be so stupid? I should’ve just listened to Chad, months ago, and not used my powers until my probation was up. Now… now I was putting him and myself at risk… and this time, I could really lose everything.

“Well,” Diana said, turning around. “I guess I’ll leave you and your new friend to enjoy the rest of the festival. Handsome man, by the way. Surprised temptations to transform him haven’t occurred in your mind. And I know they haven’t; I am a mind reader, you know.”

I stood there, staring out past Diana, out into the crowds of frozen people dressed in their festival gear. Large hats, bandanas, flower crowns, shades, neon-matching fits.

Everyone could forget me. Everyone… but me.

“Raul.”

I turned to look at Diana, tears beginning to well in my eyes.

“I know you’re a good person,” Diana said, continuing. “I have faith in you. I want you to succeed, even if it doesn’t seem like it. I wouldn’t have gone out of my way to prove you didn’t do anything wrong last year if I didn’t think you had something… Don’t let me down.”

“Hey, you okay, buddy?”

I blinked, and Diana was gone. The world was back in motion, and for a moment, I thought maybe I imagined it all.

“Huh?” I said, wiping the stray tear off my cheek. “Yeah, Carlos, I’m good. I just- I don’t know…”

“You sure?” Carlos said, placing his hand on my shoulder. “If you’re not feeling good, we could head back to the room for a bit?”

“No, no,” I said, shaking my head laughing. “I’m fine. Really. I just thought of something randomly and it got me sad. You pour a heavy mimosa; you already got me in the crying stage of being tipsy.”

Carlos laughed as he squeezed my shoulder, taking the bait and allowing us to change the subject. We walked on the shuttle and sat about halfway down in order to not be those assholes who sit in the front of the bus when there’s plenty of space in the back, but also not in the very back so it wouldn’t take us too long to get off once we arrived at the festival.

As more festivalgoers boarded the shuttle, Carlos rambled on about how awesome Adam was and how he was glad they at least exchanged numbers since they wanted to see one of the DJ’s playing later that night. I nodded and smiled the more he talked, but found myself completely distracted by my encounter with Diana.

I could lose Chad.

That’s all that kept playing in my head. Fuck turning into a teen again, although relieving adolescence sounded like a nightmare in itself, but losing Chad… I didn’t know if I could deal with that.

Worst of all, there was no way to back out anymore. The ball was set in motion. I pushed it, and now it was tumbling down the mountain and there was nothing I could do to stop it. I would get crushed, and still have to suffer my fate.

I had to get this point across. I was going to prove to the council that I was really helping both our worlds and making them a better place. I knew I was.

Right?

--

The first half of our time at the festival was a blur for me.

Carlos and I had been running back and forth between stages and the bars. We even got ourselves a smoothie at some point.

But I couldn’t focus. Diana really threw a goddamn wrench in my mind. She was all I could think about; her, and the council, and Chad, and my fucked up life.

I was finishing up the last sip of my margarita when Carlos mentioned he brought molly in the festival grounds with him.

I hadn’t done any kind of drugs in years, since I was still in college, but at the moment, being high and wasted seemed better than being lost in my thoughts.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to you know,” Carlos said, popping the pill in his mouth and washing it down with his own marg.

“Yeah,” I said, nodding. “But I want to.” I stuck my hand out, waiting for Carlos to drop the E in my palm.

“Ayeee, that’s my little dude!” Carlos plopped the pill in my hand before smacking my ass lightly.

We were already pretty tipsy, so maybe taking the pill wasn’t the best idea, but, if anything, I could try to detox the poison from our bodies if we started getting too faded.

Placing the pill on my tongue, I chugged the rest of my drink. Tossing the plastic cup in the nearby recycling bin, I smacked Carlos’ ass to let him know I was ready to head out of the beer garden.

“Where to next?” I said, dusting off the bits of dust that had accumulated on my shorts over the last few hours.

“Well, I texted Adam,” Carlos said. “He said he can meet us at the Outdoor Stage an hour before the DJ goes on. So… we still have a good… 45 minutes before that. Perfect timing too; the pill should be in full swing by the time the DJ’s on.”

“Nice,” I said, crackling my knuckles.

I pulled my phone from my front pocket, remembering I needed to text Chad that I had been at the festival. I thought about also informing him about the council, but decided it was best to save that until tomorrow, the earliest - perhaps even when I got back home. I needed to have a good time and forget about all that drama.

Hitting SEND on my messaging app, I turned back to Carlos, who had started grooving as we passed by the restrooms, which was convenient considering we probably wouldn’t have time to go again once we were at the Outdoor Stage.

At least I had Carlos with me right now to distract me. He was a good time, and his friendship made things feel a little less hectic.

“You gotta piss?” I said, pointing to the line forming outside.

“Mmmm,” Carlos said, his dancing slowing down. “Yeah, we probably should.”

“Good call,” I said, walking to the back of the line.

“Watch it!” a man yelled, as he shoved his shoulder past mine.

“YOU watch it!” Carlos said, yelling after the man. “What a prick!”

“It’s fine, Carlos,” I said, rubbing my shoulder. “Just an asshole.”

I stared at the man who rammed into me as he walked only 15 steps behind me at the water refill station. He was a pretty average guy, probably in his early to mid 30s. Enough muscle mixed with a little fat, on the taller side. He was dressed like a tool, though. A backwards cap with a basketball jersey about 2 sizes too big, and cargo shorts that didn’t deserve to see the light of day.

“Watch it!” the man yelled, pushing past a younger guy about to fill up his water bottle.

I clenched my teeth.

“Dude, I was here first,” the younger guy said, pushing his way back into his spot at the water fountain.

“Fuck off, bitch,” the man said, pushing the other guy to the ground and putting his mouth directly underneath the faucet.

I glared at the older man as patrons in the area helped the younger man back to his feet and fetched his water bottle.

“What the fuck,” Carlos said, muttering under his breath.

Rubbing my fingers together and muttering under my breath, I turned around to face Carlos, moving forward in the bathroom line as people came and went.

“Carlos,” I said, trying to lighten the mood. “Who do you want to see after this?”

“I don’t know,” Carlos said, putting his hands on his hips. “All that commotion reminded me we should probably get water before we meet up with Adam though. And another drink. Or two.”

“Wh-what the fuck?” a voice said behind us.

A group of people turned to look at the older man from before, his chin and chest dripping with water. He had his arms completely extended out in front of him. He was staring at his hands, turning and twisting them, with his eyes bulging out of his head.

“Someone please help me,” the man said, choking on his words.

A small crowd soon began to form around the water refill station as he continued to panic. They whispered amongst themselves, confused about the commotion.

I smiled as Carlos and I joined in on the staring. Since that asshole cleared enjoyed drawing the attention of others, I figured he’d want an audience as he experienced his transformation, which was triggered by the amount of water he chugged greedily from the fountain.

What the man wasn’t aware of, however, was he and I were the only people noticing the changes to his body. To the crowd of festivalgoers around him, he just looked like someone experiencing a bad trip.

The man’s mouth dropped as the hairs on his arms began to recede, leaving them completely hairless. The rest of his body hair quickly followed suit before his clothes began to loosen up around him. He shrank closer and closer to the ground as his muscles softened, not with fat, but from the loss of tone. The trimmed goatee on his face faded into nothingness as his cheeks rounded a bit, looking more and more like the fresh-faced recent high school graduate he was steadily becoming.

“Someone please help!” the now 19-year-old boy repeated, his voice cracking slightly.

“Someone go get the medic,” a woman said, pointing to the medical tent a few yards away.

The teen grasped at his shorts, threatening to fall off his thinning hips. His jersey billowed like a tarp on his torso. His breathing increased as freckles lined his skin and metal brackets appeared on his crooked teeth. Where there once was a wannabee thuggish man now stood a wannabee punkish college-drop out.

“What seems to be the problem here?” the medic said, pushing his way into the crowd. “Everyone back up, give the kid some space.”

The crowd began to disperse, deciding it had enough watching punk of a teenager freak out.

“You gotta help me man,” the teen said, tightening the belt on his shorts. “I’m shrinking man, I don’t know what’s going on.”

“What’s your name kid?” the medic asked, putting his hand on the teen’s back.

“My name is Scott and I’m not a kid!” the former man said, with a slight lisp as his tongue tripped over the metal in his mouth. “I’m 34 years old and something is seriously wrong!”

“Are you here with anyone else?” the medic said, ignoring Scott’s pleas.

“Yes, my girlfriend Stacy and my best friend Hank, wait there they are! Stacy!”

Stacy, accompanied by Hank, turned to look at Scott, confusion written across her face.

“How do you know my name?” she asked, wrapping his arm around Hank’s.

“Stacy!” Scott said, tears forming in his eyes. “It’s me! Scott! I know I look like a kid right now, but it’s me. I don’t know what’s going on but-“

“Let’s get out of here, babe,” Hank said, pulling Stacy away.

As the couple walked away from the water fill station and towards the beer garden, Scott stared in disbelief before falling to his knees and losing consciousness.

“Fuck,” the medic said, pulling out a walkie-talkie. “I need a stretcher out by water 3; kid just passed out from an apparent trip.”

“Jesus,” Carlos said, shaking his head.

“That can’t happen to us, right?” I asked, trying to play up the drug-trip narrative. I snapped my fingers, ensuring Scott would wake up thinking the entire ordeal truly was a bad trip.

“No, no way,” Carlos said, turning back around. “My shit is clean. Not laced with whatever the fuck that prick had. I’ve never seen anything like that. He was so young too.”

“Yeah,” I said, as we finally entered the restroom. “Kids nowadays…”

--

About an hour later, Carlos and I were on cloud 9. After we finished using the restroom and refilled our water bottles, we made our way to the beer garden and chugged a couple beers. Now, we were resting at the Outdoor stage, waiting for Adam and his girlfriend. My head was spinning from the alcohol and the E coursing through my veins. I opted to sit down against a fence as Carlos tried finding our newly acquainted friends.

I pulled out my phone to check if Chad had responded to my texts. Much to my dismay, I had no service.

“Raul!” Adam said, suddenly. “I want you to meet my girlfriend, Cristal. I was telling her all about you guys and how you took me out of the funk I was in this morning.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Raul,” Cristal said, extending her hand. “Thanks for helping with Adam; he’s so hard on himself. He beats himself up whenever he tries new things.”

I stood up, the biggest smile plastered on my face, partially from the compliment, but mostly from how insanely fucked up I was.

“Aw, it was no problem,” I said, shaking Cristal’s hand. “He’s a really cool guy – he made Carlos and I enjoy our walk to the shuttle a bit more. It’s nice to meet you!

Cristal smiled before moving back to Adam, resting her head against his chest. Carlos walked over to me before offering his hand so we could head into the crowd.

As we walked closer to the Outdoor Stage, the DJ began his set.

“Fuck I’m so pumped!” Carlos said, as we all weaved our way through the sea of people.

“Me too,” I said, giggling. I squeezed Carlos’ hand, enjoying the feeling of his fingers intertwined with mine. I moved my thumb over the back of his index finger repeatedly.

“Damn, you’re on a good one huh?” Carlos said, smiling down at me.

“Fuck. Yeah,” I said, laughing.

When we finally found a suitable spot, the four of us began dancing. I bumped my head to the beat, swayed my hips to the lasers, and pulsed my muscles to the bass flowing through my body.

My head twirled along to the music, my body moving in ways I had forgotten I could dance. I pressed myself repeatedly against Carlos as he danced with me, his arms holding me close at times.

I closed my eyes, picturing all the colors and shapes of the light show in front of me. I imagined my body changing back to it used to be, knowing I was banned from changing it until my probation was over. But with the way I was rolling, my imagination began to feel real.

I saw my thick chest and tight abs, and my strong biceps and shoulders that would make even Carlos jealous. I felt my thick rod and bulge between my legs, my powerful thighs grooving to the music. I shook my muscular ass, feeling the vibrations course up through my broad back.  

I imagined Carlos and I dancing there, feeling like we were floating above the ground.

I thought of Chad… wondering how he would feel if he knew I was here, cross-faded out of my mind, getting incredibly close with another man.

But I knew Carlos was just a friend. That’s all he ever would be. But in that moment, I also needed to have intimacy, because deep down, I was terrified. Terrified that I would fail. Terrified that I would lose. Terrified that I could wreck my life and have nothing left to show for it.

“Raul.”

I opened my eyes, my train of thought broken. I looked down at my body; slightly disappointed to see I was still the 21-year-old I had become.

I turned to look at Carlos, when my jaw dropped.

“Carlos?” I said, my voice wavering.

Carlos smiled at me, weaving his fingers around mine before squeezing them. He continued to dance and I stared at his body, not believing my eyes. I knew it was him; still 25 years old, but he was completely different. His muscles were practically gone; he stood a mere inch, if anything above me, and the light stubble he kept on his face had completely vanished.

“I’m having such a great time with you, Raul,” Carlos said, his voice a few octaves higher. “Please promise me we’ll hang out so much more when we get back to LA.”

I opened my mouth to say something, but I couldn’t. A tear fell down my face, when Carlos quickly wiped it away.

“Don’t cry, Raul,” Carlos said, his brows furrowing.

I closed my eyes, more tears falling down my cheeks. Did I do this? On accident? Diana? Someone else? I didn’t understand.

“Raul,” Carlos said, squeezing my hand tightly.

I took in a deep breath before I opened my eyes. I gasped when my eyes met Carlos’. He was fine. He wasn’t transformed at all. He was still the tall, muscular man I had been hanging out with the past couple days.

“Are you okay? Do you need water?”

I laughed, breathing a sigh of relief.

“Yeah, that would be great,” I said, squeezing Carlos’ hand. I think I’m just rolling a bit too hard.”

“I got you, man,” Carlos said, taking out the water bottle from his backpack. “I’ll always have you.”

I smiled, wondering how I had gotten so lucky to have two beautiful men in my life. I took the water bottle and pressed it against my lips. As I drank, I felt my anxiety dissipate and my tension balance out. I took deep breaths, in and out, and handed the bottle back to Carlos.

“Thank you,” I said, smiling. “I’ll always have you too. I promise.”

Carlos smiled back, before slowly pulling my back against his chest.

“We can dance relaxed like this until you feel better,” he said, whispering in my ear.

I nodded my head and swayed along to the rhythm. I went back to bumping my head to the music, and looked over to Adam and Cristal, who were too busy making out with each other to notice anything at all. I felt a vibration in my pocket and grinned.

Chad.

I closed my eyes, and sighed. I was going to do whatever it took to win over the council. I was going to win, no matter what.

[atlanxic]

ok so i actually have an extensive arc-v/zexal crossover university au that i’ve talked a lot about on my private twitter and on discord but i think it’s time to put it all on tumblr. i wanted to make this all one post but i actually feel like it’s too much for that? so here’s part one of..... five or so?

yuuto, shun, and ruri lived in the same apartment complex as children, theyve known each other literally forever.

in middle school, yuuto & shun both discover hardcore/punk music and spend a couple years being kind of awkward and terrible about it until high school hits and they kind of level out. ruri teases them a lot for liking that awful racket but eventually she gets into it too, mostly because her and shun are kind of inseparable for quite some time. the three of them go to the local shitty music venue just about every weekend. for the first year or so ruri insists shes going to keep them out of trouble but like i said, she gets more into the music after a while.

shun and yuuto both mosh, shun probably more frequently than yuuto. they show up to school with bruises pretty often and rumours are started that they get in fights a lot or that theyre involved in a gang. there are also rumours that theyre dating, which dont go over very well, and result in them getting in actual fist fights a couple times. they try dating for like... 3 months in grade 7, and then decide that its weird and they work better as friends.

yuuto wears his hair in a mohawk for about a year before switching to the spiky mess we know and love. towards the end of middle school, they meet kaito at a prog-rock concert, all four of them pressed against the front rails together kaito and yuuto hit it off immediately, and exchange phone numbers after the show. shun is immensely suspicious. they text a lot, and then they start hanging out, and then they start going out. shun threatens to beat kaito up, kaito is fine with it, yuuto is not. etc.

meanwhile, ruri and sayaka meet in class. it doesn't even occur to shun to be suspicious of her until he catches them making out. he yells about it, sayaka is understandably frightened. ruri tells him off for scaring her girlfriend. she stays angry at him for longer than she has before. he eventually gives in and apologizes to both of them, but in a kind of dickish way.

yuuto and kaito break up towards the beginning of 11th grade. neither of them are upset about it, they stay friends. it was mostly because kaito felt like he needed to focus more on school, now that he's getting into college prep-level courses. yuuto cries about it once, and it takes several hours to convince shun that violence would be neither appropriate nor helpful.

all four of them move to a different city for college. sayaka goes to school in the town they grew up in. her and ruri stay in touch, but after half a year they decide that the long distance thing isn't working out for them. they still hang out when ruri and shun go back for the holidays, and its fairly bittersweet.

yuuto shun & ruri dont realize that kaito is going to the same school as them until all four of them are present at a queer alliance meet & greet. shun glares at him across the room for a while before yuuto notices he's there and goes over to say hello like a decent person. yuuto and kaito immediately hit it off again. theyre both kind of "fuck you grew into yourself really well im Gay."

immm gonna say that in first year, yuuto & shun live in the dorms together. they eventually decide the res life is not for them but. apartment hunting when youre like 18 and moving out for the first time is a bit much, so dorms it is.

anyway, shun catches yuuto and kaito making out in their shared dormroom like 3 fucking days after the meet and greet. kaito's expression is one of fear and conveys that he knows full well that shun is 2 seconds from beating him up. yuuto is kinda pissed off about it. yuuto and shun have a long conversation that night about how protective shun is. they fall asleep in each other's arms.

kaito avoids them for a little while, but the next time they see him, shun makes a genuine apology. yuuto and kaito start dating again a few weeks later. ruri is surprised and delighted about it. ruri ends up dormed with rin in first year.

they get along reasonably well, but they dont get close until rin accidentally lets slip that she's gay, and then ruri is like "oh thank god, me too." the context is probably: that yuugo visits them like basically every other day, and is Really Obviously In Love with rin, and rin's affectionate with him, so ruri just kind of assumes theyre dating. and at one point is like, do you want me to go somewhere else so you guys can make out, i could hang out with my brother tonight its nbd. yuugo blushes bright red and is like aaaaa its not like that, like, exactly like he does in canon. and rin's like “lmao im gay. i mean. what.”

ruri probably ids as pan? but anyway, shes like "ohhhh cool me too.” they both kind of stare at each other while this new info sinks in, and then yuugo says something and the moment is broken.

this is still a bit before yuugo's gay crisis

[later, during yuugo's gay crisis about yuuya] [rin] yuugo you had a crush on a boy in /middle school/ [yuugo] no i didnt i had a crush on you [rin] you used to complain to me about how hot he was like every lunch break [yuugo] that doesn't mean anything? [rin] obviously it does? how are you only realizing this now

ruri discovers that rin's been wanting to go to queer alliance meetings but has been too shy about it, so she drags her along. and someone mistakes them for yuzu and selena. idk who it would be..... sawatari maybe?

sawatari is like, Flaming Gay, a legitimate twink despite iding as bi.

anyway theyre like, thats not us, youre mistaken, and sawatari, instead of fucking off, is like, "holy fuck you have to meet them, you look so much the same it's eery." sawatari drags them through the party for like 20 minutes before actually finding yuzu and selena, and he's like "look i told you."

and all four of them are kind of like "holy fuck???" they get a selfie together, its not very good because the lighting is terrible, and they spend the rest of the evening hanging out.

yuzu and selena had a class together and hit it off immediately, theyre already dating. theyre a bit surprised to learn that ruri and rin /aren't/ dating. rin blushes at the suggestion and gets raised eyebrows all around. the four of them become fast friends and start getting lunch together and studying together on a regular basis.

ruri and rin meet yuuya through them, and because yuuya is friends with Everyone, they become friends as well. which sets the stage for yuuya and yuugo meeting, and yuugo's consequent gay crisis.

shun, ruri, and yuuto as pakistani immigrants, they arrived when they were very very young but they get a lot of shit for it anyway, especially ruri, who wears a hijab.

i figure the commons would be mostly latinx/mixed. so like, yuugo, rin, and shinji are all latinx. i rlly like the concept of black crow with a bleached-orange hi-top fade and subtle freckles. yuuya, yuzu, and gongenzaka can pprrobably be white? dennis could be ethnically jewish & light-skinned. fusion dimension crew are mostly japanese, so sora, yuuri, and selena. i.. am not really sure about reiji? following the theme i guess white/japanese mixed. tsukikage is japenese & immigrated like within his memory rather than a few generations back, he's bilingual. jack is latino and white-passing.

i like the concept of shun as a veterinary student, partly because i think he'd follow his interest in birds if things hadn't gone horribly wrong and partly because i find the idea of this edgy asshole in scrubs really funny. yuuto takes social work and ends up with crow as a teacher. yuuya, dennis, sawatari, and sora are all drama majors. yuuri is in botany. reiji is a law major, as well as being on the debate team and the student council. he never fuckign sleeps. shun also joins the debate team, and they do Not get along, but since debate team is the yelling hobby anyway, thats fine. yuzu is in the music program. selena is in poli-sci. yuugo stays in engineering. i dont, know about the rest of everyone.

conceptually, this is a north-eastern reasonably liberal college town, featuring two colleges and a trade school. one college is for the arc v kids, the other one will eventually be populated with zexal kids when i get to know them. kaito starts in zexal school and transfers at the beginning of second year. everyone is in first year rn except reiji and tsukikage, who are in second year, and also are dorming together, and also are gay.

so now that thats all set up!! back to the plot!!

ruri and rin meeting yuzu and selena happens a couple weeks after ruri and sayaka break up. selena hears about it and is like, hey if you need a rebound i can hook you up with someone, and ruri is like. "i feel like itd be disrespectful to date someone else before im over sayaka, ill stay single for a while." she never actually completely gets over sayaka, but she does eventually get enough emotional distance to move on. every time she goes home for the holidays they have awkward not-quite-gay moments.

much like in sfu, sawatari is loaded and hosts house parties whenever his father is away on business trips.

once the 4 girls are hanging out on a regular basis, they all sort of get to know each other's orbital boys. like rin and ruri get introduced to yuuya and get to know sawatari better. yuuya's goal is to be friends with absolutely everyone, and they make good progress on it.

yuzu and selena get to meet yuugo. yuugo is starry-eyed at all four of them, but alas, they are all too gay for him. at one point selena slaps him in the face and he spends like the next two weeks thinking about it lmao

likewise, they all get to meet shun. shun immediately decides that he is going to protect all of them. rin finds it kind of cute, yuzu finds it kind of weird, selena is outright offended about it. they get along a lot better with yuuto, since yuuto is just, easier to get along with. he joins their lunch dates once in a while, as does yuuya.

selena and yuuri met in their high school gsa and relentlessly gossip about everyone they meet. selena introduces yuuri to the rest of the girls exactly once, it does not go well. probably kye gives them all backhanded compliments. shun hears about this from ruri later and decides that yuuri is his enemy.

the first time yuuya and yuugo meet, its because the girls have invited both of them to lunch. yuuya introduces themself with a firm handshake and a wink. yuuya flirts a bit throughout the meal, as they tend to do. yuzu tells yuugo after the fact like, "dont mind them, theyre always like that." yuugo tries not to think about it much.

the second time they meet is at one of sawatari's giant house parties. yuuya, being slightly inebriated, is even more flirtacious than usual. yuugo gets it into his head that this is some kind of challenge, and refuses to back down from yuuyas advances until theyre in a closet together and yuuyas hand is up his shirt.

the next gay he visits rin to have a gay crisis. ruri politely sees herself out so they can talk.

i want to say shun is having a similar crisis about having come very close to having a one night stand with reiji. not because it was gay but because he hates the guy.

rin is exasperated but understanding, she rubs yuugo's back and calls him a pathetic baby while he whines. by the end of their conversation, yuugo has accepted that he's bi, and additionally, that making out is Great and he should do more of it. rin is slightly worried and gives him a safe sex talk, he yells and covers his ears during the entire thing.

meanwhile, shun is like "i fucking hate that guy why was it so satisfying to bite him" and ruri is like "bro i love you but thats way tmi, please do not tell me about your sadistic hatesex kink or whatever the fuck it is youre trying to convey." yuuto, also present, is like "i cant believe you made out with that asshole, and you still have the nerve to get angry at basically anyone i kiss for no fucking reason." shun swears up and down that it will not happen again, and also says that he has already apologized several times for being possessive about both of them, please let him live it down.

(it absolutely does happen again.)

(the second time they actually do go all the way, it is the best sex of shun's life, and he's upset about it.)

[yuuto voice] you have a Problem, why cant you date someone decent and have vanilla sex like the rest of us

rin slowly develops a huge crush on ruri. when she tells yuugo about it, hes like "yeah she's really pretty i completely understand."