#love my idiot man he does nothing but enable me

[ectochoir]

Get you a freak who’s just as abnormal as you are. 💖

[pinyeti]

Episode 2: Attack of the Clones

Loving how i can see the budget increase GOOD GOD THE CGI IS CRAAZY

Ohno padme's clone is gone

HELLO??? ANAKIN??? HES PRETTY NOW ofc he has the rat tail 

Obi wan flop era uggo

Why does he give me young president snow vibes

OHMYGOD IVE SEEN THIS SCENE BEFORE ON THE INTERNET WHERE PADMES LIKE FIND WHOS TRYING TO KILL ME AND OBIWANS LIKE NO AND ANIKINS LIKE YES OFC ANYTHING FOR YOU SENATOR

Ok beginning of rebel anakin

Please tell me he doesnt go to the dark side for love

THE WORLD BUILDING IS CRAAAZZYYY THE SCReENS AARE SO CRISP IM SO IN AWE OHMYGOD

SNAKES IN HER BED SNAKES IN HER BED

OBIWAN JUST ZIPLINED WITH NO ZIPLINE ATTABOIY

How does the past look so much better than the future

I cant believe this is 2002 IT LOOKS SO MODERN

tHE HUMOUR THE CLARITY THE ACTION EVERYTHING IS SO FRESH 

Ok anakin is crazy

DID HE JUST DRIVE INTO ELECTRICITY?? ANAKIN OBIWAN IS OLD FUCK YOU DISRESPECTFUL RAT TAIL HAVER

do you think you’re shelock holmes anakiN??? STOP JUMPING OUT OF MOVING VEHICLES ONTO ONCOMING SKY TRAFFIC ANAKIN

Idiot lost his lightsaber

“You’re the closest thing i have to a father” FUCKIN BITCH

Okay sorry about gay allegationing obiwan and vader when I DIDNT KNOW HE BASICALLY RAISED HIM 

Bro anakins hair is something else

IS THE CHANCELLOR OLD GUY EVIL IS HE??? IS HE THE EMPEROR TO BE

Padme IS THEIR MOMMM

Bro yoda hates all the jedis hes so sassy for what “too sure of themselves they are, even the older ones” *pointedly stares at obiwan*

NOWAY PADME LEFT IT TO JARJAR IS SHE CRAZY

Ok anakin your job is to protect her not use her as a vent journal

ANAKIN CAT NOIR

I just know hes kicking his feet at the assignment

IS R2 THE CHAPERONE CDJBDEK

Bro anakin is cheeeeesssiiiinnggg HES SUCHHHA SIMPP IM GETTING SECOND HAND EMBARASSMENT ;))) one might even say ‘)))) we jedis are encouroegd to love eheh ;)))

IS obiwan walking into a huge ARMY trade deal KNOWING NOTHING and IMPROVING HIS WAS THROUGH

Oh STORM TROOPERS ARE CLONESSS

OH MY GOD THIS MEME

“SOUNDS AWFUL LOT LIKE A DICTATORSHIP TO ME”

“WELL IF IT WORKS” THIS IS WHERE ITS FROM

anakin : ugh i am so angry i serial killed ugh

padme: dw to serial kill is to human

(????ok enabler)

Ohmygodddd NOOO WHY WOULD SHE DO THIS IM SO SICK OF JARJAR

WAIT YODA USED STORM TROOPERS FIRST???? WHA HOW DID THEY END UP WITH THE EMPEROR THEN was it anakin

Ok not the biggest yoda fan

Wowww how convenient obiwan discovers an army ready for use right when theyre being threatened

Everytime they say dooku i laugh

Anakin is a stupid man child - RUNNING INTO PROBLEMS WITH GLOWSTICKS AND HOPING IT DIES PT39382992 - guess it runs in the family

OHMYGOD ANAKIN DOUBLE HAND LIGHTSABERING LIGHTBASAVERING

HAHA HE GOT HIS HAND CUT OFF LIKE HE CUT OFF LUKES he just wanted him and luke to share something :( he just wanted to teach luke :( its okay i forgive you for cutting lukes hand darthy

YODA IS SOSOSO COOOL

WHO IS THE EMPEROR HELLO?

(5/9)

(ALSO DW GUYS IM NOT FOLLOWING ANY STARWARS MUTUALS TILL IM DONE WITH PREQUELS SO ILL DO A SERIES OF HELOOOOS SOON)

[asgardian--angels]

Have you heard the news about Till yet? Does it ruin the band for you anyhow? I've only found out about it 2 hours ago and I'm pretty stunned :/

Hey sorry for the delay in replying to this! Yes I've been following the various goings-on. I've stayed out of the discussion on it mostly because I really don't care that much - I'm way past the point in my life where I get so attached to bands that any news of 'gasp! Male rock star is shitty to women!' would have me sobbing on the floor. I mean, my favorite band was Korn for many years, enough said lmao.

Having taken in the various perspectives, news sources, and other insights from fans, it's looking very likely that Till did not actually engage in this behavior for the particular circumstance he is being accused of. I'd be surprised if he'd really go so far as to do all of that. There appear to be multiple witnesses that deny the accuser's claims. I don't inherently take sides on this stuff, I just try to judge whatever facts are available. Rammstein is a well-oiled machine with a huge crew that try to regulate their events and make it safe for everyone. That doesn't mean things can't happen, esp when Till has separate afterparties than the rest of the band, but they've been at this for almost 30 years with very few issues.

Is Till shitty to women? Often, and I'd call him a sex addict, and from what I understand in the past several years he hasn't been surrounded with great people outside the band (i.e. his solo stuff) and they've enabled or fed the worse parts of him. He has seemingly cultured an environment around himself - largely separate from the rest of the band, at least at present - where he can engage in his preferred activities. I don't agree morally with a lot of the things he does (hell, I can't stomach most of his solo project music videos), but that's nothing new, because while he may honestly be worse on this front than in the past, he's always been like this.

But in this particular circumstance, I'm inclined to say the media is spiraling this way out of control. I hate the entire culture surrounding rock band afterparties, older men seeking out young groupies, and Rammstein's 'Row 0' antics. I'd like an outcome of this whole thing to be that they stop doing that once and for all, given that the band is in their 50s and for Till, 60s. But even with whatever headspace Till has been in recently, he has a great love and respect for his fellow band members who are like family to him - and I need not expound upon just how monumentally stupid and detrimental it would be for the whole band for him to have done something illegal here. The last time he was arrested (along with Flake) was in 1998 for one of their stage acts - he's been clean otherwise (and that whole thing was idiotic anyway on the part of the MA police), and that is a testament to his carefulness and desire to not impact the band and the lives of the band members. He got pyro certified to design their stage acts and ensure the safety of everyone during their shows after an accident in 1996 - he's a man that shows commitment and perseverance, and he is very intelligent.

This entire thing has had a massive impact on the rest of the band, with some people relating it to the Mutter era where the band was having major disagreements and almost broke up - but there, they got through it stronger with a better understanding of each other and how to work together. I do feel Till is not in a great place mental health-wise, and needs to surround himself with better people re: his entourage and personal&professional friends outside of the band, and his antics in general sometimes cast a poor light on Rammstein. I hope this whole thing forces some re-examination by Till of his lifestyle, because he himself often doesn't seem very happy (without me reading any further into things I know nothing about). I think he's treated women poorly in these environments from a ~just being shitty~ point of view, undoubtedly. But ultimately, I don't think he committed the illegal activities he's been accused of in this instance.

I hate how much of this has become about taking sides, like hashtag 'I stand with Rammstein' or whatever. I don't stand with or against anyone - I think this sucks for the rest of the band being put through this no matter the outcome, I think it will have a lasting impact on the dynamics of the band and their interpersonal relationships, and I'm glad it sheds light on Row 0 and various shitty practices that Rammstein and many bands have engaged in.

Groupies will always exist, and so aging male rockstars will probably always do this sort of stuff - plenty of female fans welcome it, seeing as no one is forced to accept an invitation to an afterparty, and any Rammstein fan who finds themselves in Row 0 knows what it's about. In general, I hear overwhelmingly positive experiences about fans meeting Till and if he was consistently poor-mannered I doubt people would hold good opinions of him. The band's made it clear (via Scheider's recent statement) that any guest is welcome to leave these environments if they're uncomfortable and will be chaperoned by security. They have a huge crew of 100+ people making sure everything runs smoothly. There are changes that I think should be made to separate and/or regulate Till's private parties (or better yet, don't have them), and I personally will never understand going to these parties, but that's just me. Less than great experiences can and do happen at those parties, but that's a far cry from criminal acts. I think Till goes way overboard much of the time esp when left to his own devices, but being a lewd ass is again, not the same as forced coercion.

Personally, I honestly just think this is a shitty way to go out, seeing as the band is taking a hiatus after this tour and I get that nagging feeling we may not see them again for a long time, or ever, at least in terms of new albums or concerts (they do have a dvd coming out in a year or two). Rammstein has always tried to shock people with controversy, but not in ways like this. Various media outlets love to jump on this band, waiting for them to slip up on anything. Even if all charges are cleared, which it's shaping up that they will, much of the damage was done to Till's reputation, with multiple collaborations dropped/promos cancelled. I hope this gives him pause and a chance to re-examine where he's at in life, and that his fellow band members can help him find support where he needs it. Again, I don't defend Till, and I don't deny shitty things may happen at afterparties. But I'm weathered when it comes to rock scandals and I try hard to stay out of the personal lives of band members. So to me whatever happens happens and I just want some lessons to be learned for all involved.

[aliceindaisychains999]

✍️, ❤️, 🛌, 💌 for postal

FINALLY A BLOOMING BULLETS MOMENT!!

✍️: Overall, how does the fandom trait you? Are you a beloved character, or hated? Are you popular, or a minor side character? Anything in between?

Hopefully I am well loved. I’d like to think I’m balancing everyone out as the most mellow Postal character. I have no other way to say this but my more sweet, lighthearted nature is a huge contrast from the usual game. I am later revealed as a reincarnated angel during a fight against Mad Cow Mike J, which will definitely get me slandered as a mary sue. But nevertheless, I still am capable of having witty humor and a dark streak that’ll keep me comfortably fitting into the universe. And I hope fans will welcome me

❤️: How popular is you x your f/o? Are you a rarepair?

I’m honestly not sure! I exist only in Postal 2 and Brain Damaged and nothing should stop the fans from making their own fun ships with other Postal Dudes or maybe their own OCs. But we’d be the only canon (and hopefully healthiest) couple in the game. Postal 4 is very cool but with me in the picture, the story’s change is completely different from the Edensin storyline.

Most fan tributes of us is from Postal 2. Especially the ending scene from the Mad Mike J fight where I help Dude and Champ escape

🛌: What kind of tropes exist within your ship dynamic?

Some include but are not limited to:

Star-Crossed Lovers

Shy Girl x Protective Guy

Feral Idiot x Tired Idiot in Progress

Chaotic with soft spot x Softie chaos enabler

Sweetheart x Hotheaded

HEAVY BANTER OMG

Angel x Demon (this has more depth than you think)

💌: How do people perceive your dynamic? What might people focus on most? Any misconceptions?

Well, the Dude and long story short go like this: Frenemies -> Best Friends -> Power Couple

We are polar opposites but there’s still some aligned morals that keep us working together. I think it’d finally give him the much needed softness he was secretly looking for his whole life. If it isn’t sweet shipping stuff, it’s probably really batshit comedic art because this is Postal after all. Somewhere out in the multiverse is art of me chasing down the Postal Dude to stop him from killing civilians streaking the town naked.

However, I would not be surprised if fans dare uwu-fied me. I don’t mind being cutesy, but to be uwu-fied is a whole ‘nother kind of cursed. I can be pretty nutty myself, even if it’s only one heavy streak in my personality.

Oh, and did I mention I’m usually the one cleaning up after his messes (both literal and figuratively)? I feel like a lot of fan works will portray me to be the one who has to deal with a gremlin of a man

[infinitelymint]

I agree with everything you say, I think - until holivia. I can’t speak for the first year of it because I was fandom hibernating for most of it, but I’ve been pretty consistently here since December and what I’ve seen of the stunt has just made Harry look consistently like more and more of an arse. If I was just looking without knowing what I do about ‘the real Harry’, I would think he was a grade A d-bag (and I would think she was one as well in the way she treats him- I guess in that regard they deserve each other). For Harry I think it’s gross to see him enable her being a shitty mother, I think it’s gross that he for all intents and purposes is her children’s stepfather but he doesn’t seem to take any responsibility for their well-being - they’ve publically been together for two years, if this was a proper relationship, he’d be a parent figure for those children, and yet he’s cool with her and her children moving around the world to accommodate him even though that means leaving their father on the other side of the world. That’s not prioritising the children and as an adult in their life, that’s his responsibility too. He even says ‘if I someday have children’ in that interview like… if you’re serious about your current public relationship, then for all intents and purposes, you do have step children already. That’s just a part of the package when you choose to date as you did (especially if, as we are supposed to believe, she and the children have been living in with him). Then to add on to that, what he did in Venice and to some extent the New York premiere too, that’s not professionalism. That’s just poor behaviour and really terribly hurtful if they were involved - he didn’t keep a professional distance, he flat out ignored her. If he was her actual boyfriend through all of that - yikes! Also, if they’re properly together, he must want her and the project to succeed - he was definitely not helping that, and he could have if he’d handled promo differently. Then there’s the whole way they started and the reports of unprofessional conduct on set. To me, if I were to see it from the outside, he got involved with his boss at work to an extent where that made his costar uncomfortable, to an extent where reports (which to someone who’s not invested may as well be the truth) from people on set say that he and his director were always hard to find (which to me insinuates that it’s because they were off boning) while she publicly had a long term partner and two children. And then if that was how my relationship to my partner who I really love started, then I would want to do everything in my power to keep it private for a long fucking time and to control the narrative once we did go public - not wander around hand in hand at a wedding at the height of covid, while shooting the joint movie was still happening and cruising around in cars without masking. Everything about debuting a relationship publically in that way - the timing, the manner, is just insane and makes both of them look unprofessional and like proper idiots. Man, I could rant about this forever but I’m gonna stop now

Regardless of whether you think the relationship between Hilary and Olivia is real he continues to prove that he is not a good significant other. This woman is berated and abused and hated on on a daily basis by A group of members in his Fanbase and he does nothing to defend her. This man will kiss her in public and hold her hand but when it comes time to claiming her he won’t actually ever do it and says shit like,”I’ve never been in a public relationship”. She and her children have been sent death threats and hated on and had some of the meanest shit said to them and this man does nothing to defend her. She has been accused of being a racist, trans phobic, a bad Director, not someone who is not professional, playing favourites on sad, cheating on her fiancé, being a bad parent, being a neglectful mother and this man has said nothing. And the outside it does look bad. There is a lot of proof that Olivia and Jason were still together as of October 2020 and if people were correct and that’s around the time working Olivia had started and it doesn’t look good for her. Him either. She is constantly travelling and taking a break in her own career to support him and he never does the same for her. This movie is a huge thing for her. It’s her second movie and everything has gone to shit. This man won’t even do a press for it and while this woman is drowning and having people release receipts about her and exposing her he just stays quiet and continues on with his life. I personally don’t think that this relationship is real but either way hairy doesn’t look good.

I agree that Harry doesn’t look good in all of this, definitely. That’s been my entire point - if this relationship is real, he’s been a terrible boyfriend to her, absolutely, and not someone I would want to be a fan of. However, I don’t agree with you that that says something about how he is as a significant other, because I don’t believe that she’s his significant other. I don’t believe that he treats Louis, who I do believe is his significant other, in any way the same. I don’t believe that the way he navigates a stunt and how he is portrayed within that stunt says anything about how he is with his private relationship - if I believed that, I would have unstanned.

[sondepoch]

Dress and Undress

PAIRING: Solomon x OC: Kana

SUMMARY: Solomon lets out his jealousy after seeing Kana dolled up for another man—but is that really his fault? (It 100% is, but Kana's nice enough to forgive him for it.)

TAGS: Vanilla sex, jealousy, possessive!Solomon, established relationship

This was a commission for the lovely @firecatvariant on Tumblr! Thank them for the wonderful concept, character, and for enabling me to write this :) 

MASTERLIST

“You’re wearing eyeliner” is the first thing Solomon says when he sees her walk into the room. His lips quirk downward into that cute little frown—the one that always feels more like a pout, in Kana’s opinion—and then his already-dark eyes flash with something darker than usual.

Jealousy, Kana instantly realizes, and she sighs, immediately realizing what she’s walked into.

“And now you’re sighing. Is being apart from Satan so awful?” Solomon says. 

“Sol,” Kana says slowly. “I told you this a million times. We’re friends. We had that dinner just now as friends. And—and he took me to a fancy place! I couldn’t just show up in my uniform—I had to wear—”

“Makeup? And that dress?” Solomon snaps. “You hardly dress up Kana, and now, for the first time in a month, I see you looking like this for another man? A demon, of all things? What kind of—”

Solomon stops himself before he can say anything too awful, but Kana’s sharp. She already knows what he was going to say: What kind of girlfriend does something like that? And after listening to Solomon complain about this innocent dinner for a week, having him refuse to help her get ready earlier, and now hearing him whine over the fact that Kana dared to wear eyeliner and a dress to one of the most upscale restaurants in the Devildom—she’s had enough.

“Solomon,” she snaps, crossing her arms. “I have the right to dress up whenever and for whoever I want. You being my boyfriend gives you no right to dictate—”

“I’m not dictating anything! I’m just saying that—”

“Saying that you want to control what I wear? You need to calm down, Solomon, and take a step back because—”

“And how am I supposed to do that when you look like this?” Solomon shouts.

And suddenly, Kana realizes that he’s not just jealous because she went out with Satan—he’s jealous he wasn’t invited to see her look like this.

“You—you’re always wearing jeans and T-shirts and casual stuff and—” Solomon is getting flustered now, embarrassed that the truth has come out. “And that’s fine. I love you because of it. But I don’t want other men seeing you look so…”

So enticing.

So beautiful.

So perfect.

Kana already knows what he’s going to say, so before Solomon can even pick a word (and knowing him, he’d pick many), she steps forward and kisses him. 

Solomon doesn’t kiss back at first. He seems to be surprised or upset or maybe even flustered…but after a second, the rigidity of his shoulders fades. His hands settle around the curve of Kana’s waist. His eyes shut, and Solomon kisses Kana back, long and deep, intense and passionate.

“You look divine,” he whispers against Kana’s lips. “And I know you say there’s nothing going on between you and Satan. But he’s an idiot if he can see you dressed like this and not…and not want to fuck you senseless in it.”

Kana giggles against Solomon’s lips, pulling back.

“It doesn’t matter what he thinks,” Kana says, staring sweetly into Solomon’s eyes. “Because the only one who gets to do any of that to me is you.”

Something hitches in Solomon’s breathing when she says that. 

“Kana,” he says, and the word falls from his lips intimately, like her name is something to be cherished and protected and uttered with the highest reverence. “You can’t say something like that to a man and not expect him to act on it.”

An airy laughter falls from Kana’s lips.

“Maybe I want you to act on it, Sol.” She bites her lip shyly, not used to being so forthright with him. “I had my dinner with Satan, but I always knew I’d be coming back to your room tonight. The real person I dressed up for was…”

Was you.

She doesn’t even need to say it; Solomon understands automatically. 

And when he does, the look in his eye completely changes.

“Oh,” he says, embarrassed over how much he overreacted. “Oh,” he repeats, suddenly realizing what Kana is insinuating. “Oh,” he says, abruptly realizing that this is an open invitation—and that he’d be a fool not to take it.

Immediately, his lips crash against Kana’s. His hand works its way up into her hair, styled into an elegant bun, and he tugs, undoing the folds of her black tresses to let Kana’s long hair cascade down her shoulders.

“Jump,” he orders, palms now gripping the backs of her thighs. “Jump,” he repeats, and Kana does so blindly, trusting him to the fullest as she wraps her legs around his waist while he maneuvers her into his bedroom, onto his bed, into his arms where he traps her and stares down at her with hungry, lust-filled eyes.

“You look beautiful,” Solomon says, chest rising and falling rapidly. He brushes a strand of hair behind Kana’s ear, cupping her cheek.

“Just like you,” Kana whispers back, her eyes fluttering shut as the gap between her and Solomon disappears.

Everything after that is a blur.

When Solomon said he wanted to fuck her in her dress, he meant it; Kana wore a black gown to the party today, one with a slit from her thigh to her foot, and Solomon uses that slit to give himself full access to everything that lies between her legs.

“Oh,” Kana gasps when she feels Solomon’s tongue working its way inside her. “Oh, Sol, right—right there—please don’t stop—”

But why would Solomon stop? Solomon never stops, and his mouth is working against Kana’s skin until she’s writhing and gasping and quivering under his every touch.

“Ready?” Solomon asks later with half-lidded eyes. His shirt has been stripped off and he’s unbuckling his belt, but Kana’s eyes are glued to the ornate markings that are etched into his skin, lining all the dips and curves to his muscles. Kana stares shamelessly, mind too clouded with pleasure to be shy, and her fingers trace the pact marks delicately, fingertips ghosting over the edges.

It makes Solomon shiver.

(In a good way, based on how his length pressed harder against her thigh.)

“Always, for you,” Kana says, smiling.

When Solomon starts to press inside of her, it turns out that she wasn’t, in fact, ready—but her boyfriend eases her into it, rocking his hips against her gently and lovingly, slowly and passionately. Her nails, which were previously only tracing his skin, start to dig in, leaving long scratches that make Solomon hiss, but pain gives way to pleasure the more he moves, the deeper he thrusts, the longer he’s inside.

“Fuck,” he’s still whispering an hour later when they’re both sweaty and exhausted. Kana’s dress is bunched up around her waist, the straps pushed down to expose her soft breasts, and Solomon rests his head on them, listening to the fast beating of her heart. “You’re amazing, Kana, do you know that?” Solomon presses a chaste kiss against Kana’s skin, arms wrapped around her waist. “Amazing and beautiful and perfect.”

Kana giggles sweetly, threading her fingers through Solomon’s hair.

“I’m sorry for ever doubting you.”

Kana smiles.

“But you have to wear this dress on a date with me.”

At that, Kana laughs, slapping the back of Solomon’s head.

“You’ve ruined this dress, Sol. I don’t think I can ever wear this in public.” And, frankly, even if she could wear it again, Kana’s not sure she’d be able to so much as fit the fabric over her shoulders without getting horribly wet from the memories of everything Solomon just did.

Of course, her wizard of a boyfriend seems to already know this.

“Don’t worry. I have more than enough spells to return this dress to its original condition,” he says, kissing Kana’s lips. 

“But there’s no point—”

“There’s always a point, Kana. Because after I take you out in this dress, I’m going to fuck you in it all over again.” 

(And he does.)

MASTERLIST

Word Count: 1.3k

Notes: This was my first time writing with an OC rather than just a reader - hope you enjoyed it! 

Check here to see my commission prices and details!

Comment & Like

Thank you for reading!

[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.”

[bitchassbucky]

Ｂａｃｋ Ｔｏ Ｙｏｕ (Ｓａｍ Ｗｉｌｓｏｎ ｘ Ｆ!Ｒｅａｄｅｒ)

📎Word Count: 1.5k

📎Warning/s: some heckin’ words. Bucky’s in this, he’s a bit annoying (affectionately) <3 MINORS DNI.

📎A/N: omg my first Sam fic! i wanna thank my boo @babyboibucky for enabling me hsakjdhak ily! this is for you, bee!

📎Masterlist || Ask || AFTERDARK

📎 Follow the story: Back To You, Dimples, Inked

“Are you even listening to me?” Bucky says, annoyed that Sam has been looking down on his phone, remotely giving attention to their conversation.

Sam grins, fingers dancing over the keyboard on the screen, “Yeah, yeah. Something about motel rooms—or beds.”

“I said that they gave us two beds in one room,” the former spots their door number, quickly walking to it. The tactical bag swinging over his cybernetic arm freely.

The night was warm, the air blew the ocean mist towards the town. The parking lot is empty save for a black sedan that’s already been through a lot. They chose to stay low instead of getting a room at a decent hotel close by–something about them not likening the crowd.

Once inside, both men cleared the room in 30 seconds flat. The window opens out, the door stays closed and locked. The TV has to be on but kept on low volume. The beds are made, it’s clean; beats the flat beds on the plane.

Sam throws his bag over to the bed closest to the window, calling dibs. “Hey, you got headphones?” He asks.

“No,” Bucky answers, settling his things below the foot of the bed, “why?” He catches Sam again smiling giddily over something, “what you got a girl there or something?” 

“It’s none of your business,” Sam retorts, quirking his eyebrow upwards, “well? Do you have headphones?”

“If you listened to me, you would’ve heard me say ‘no.’”

Bucky should’ve had brought headphones. Sam has been droning on and on with a ‘friend’ over on a video call.

Not that he’s eavesdropping and nosy but he saw how Sam lit up when a voice came in from his phone.

“Hey, Sammy! I finally get to see your face.” You say, your voice crackling over Sam’s speakers, “am I on speaker right now?”

Sam smiles, focusing on your background and seeing pictures and posters plastered on the wall, “oh, yeah. Sorry, I forgot my earphones somewhere.”

“What? Old man Barnes rubbing off on you?” You laugh, your glasses reflecting your laptop’s screen. Your joke sending Sam into a laughing fit.

“You know he’s in the room, right?” Sam clarifies as he turns the camera to Bucky, much to the former’s dismay. But despite himself, Bucky waves to the camera.

“Heard a lot about you, Barnes! Hope you’re ready for frequent bathroom trips from this one.”

Sam faces you again, a mischievous glint shining in his eyes, “Shut up or I’m gonna drop the call.”

You quickly send him an emoji via text, Sam rolling his eyes as you giggle. “Anyway, since you can’t join in on the fun, you’ll be my audience tonight.”

Sam gives you a confused look, a hint of crease appearing between his brows. “Tonight? What’s tonight?”

A fake gasp and an overdramatic show of hurt had him chuckling, “You already forgot the karaoke night you promised me, didn’t you?”

He grins apologetically and looks at the camera, as if looking into your eyes, “I’m sorry. Been busy these past few weeks.”

You smile softly, the imagery giving Sam a burst of butterflies in his tummy, “it’s okay. I was just being dramatic. I got that from you, you know.”

You are not a good singer. But you confidently belt out the highest of notes like one. Complete with hand gestures, you hold out the last note of the song.

“Thank you,” you bow down to your imaginary crowd off-camera, “I’ll be here all night.”

“On god, please don’t,” Sam interjects with a tender smile and soft eyes.

“Sammy!” Your eyes glazing over your screen, a deep pang of homesickness hitting you, “I missed this. I missed you.”

He nods, his lips pressed tightly as he tries to find the words to respond, “I missed you too, bub.” 

A soft note of a love song sounds over your speaker, traveling to his, “you love this song.”

Sam nods, reminiscing the moments he had with you during college. The one time you almost kissed—where are these memories and feelings coming from?! “Yeah, and---”

The doorbell rings on your end. Your eyes glinting as you stand up. Food delivery!

“Hold that thought, Sammy. My food’s here,” you say, your voice faint as you’re practically halfway through the door.

“She is a god-awful singer,” Bucky expresses, “but you love her, don’t you?”

“What?” Sam quickly taps a button on his screen—stupid Bucky and his stupid mouth. He covers his phone’s mouthpiece as if that could help, “shut the hell up.”

Sam’s changed demeanor confirms Bucky’s growing suspicion, “so you do love her!”

The latter glances at the empty screen, hoping you didn’t hear anything. Or maybe, he does?

The only sign of life from your end is the sound of various utensils cluttering and a metal bowl falling to the floor, making both men wince at the sudden noise.

Sam lowers the volume of his phone, facing Bucky from their respective beds.

“Shit,” Sam exclaims, running a hand over his handsome face, “maybe I do.”

This time, he finally lets himself go through the memories you made together before he left for the military.

The coffee dates, the late-night calls, the breakfast hangouts, the study sessions. You light up even the most boring of things. The texture of your skin, the sound of your laugh, the twinkle in your eyes bring Sam into a warm place.

You make him feel enough. You see him through and through.

Oh shit, he is in love with you.

Bucky just looks at him, boring holes in his face, as if this was the most obvious thing in the world. “You really just realized, just now?” Sam’s not sure if it’s a rhetorical question.

“The way you talk about her. The way you talk to her. You see her and the things she like everywhere we go and you realize it just now?” So, it is a rhetorical question.

The revelation leaves Sam amused but unable to form words, “I… Do–I do love her. I’m in love with my best friend.”

A silent beat drops in the room—save for the faint hello? coming from Sam’s phone.

Ah, fuck.

Bucky put on his jacket planning to head out (to the motel’s ice machine) to give you two privacy. He bids Sam good luck and you a good night before walking towards the door.

As soon as the door shuts, Sam increases the volume on his phone again.

“Sam?” You call out, “I can’t see you, your cam’s off.”

In panic, he realizes that he tapped the wrong button—maybe Old Man Barnes had rubbed off on him.

You smile and sat up a little bit straighter when his face lights up your screen again.

“So… how much did you hear about the whole thing?” Sam wants to tread carefully around the subject, the first time he feels uncomfortable opening up to you.

He fully expects you to dismiss the topic, turn in for the night, and leave him lamenting about his feelings. And he’s somehow okay with it.

“Kinda, everything.” You confess, there’s nothing holding you back now, “I, you know-- I’m glad you got ‘round it. Even if it took you years.”

Another pin drops inside Sam’s head, “what do you mean?”

“Look, I confessed to you before we graduated but you never acknowledged it. So, I never brought it up again.” Even miles apart, Sam’s presence was around you. The bracelet he gave you during junior year, his favorite mug you borrowed from him, a ton of his shirts and hoodies that he gave to you before moving out after graduation. 

“You confessed to me? When?” Sam racks his brain for the smallest of details, for the quietest of whispers.

“I wrote you a letter. Remember? I slipped it under your door after finals week.”

After all these years, Sam never quite found out who wrote him that letter, “you never signed it.”

Sam didn’t expect you to laugh, to double over such a serious conversation, “dude, I did, I signed it. Why would I send you a deep proclamation of love without signing it?”

“It was written on pink paper, right? I still have it. You wanna bet that you don’t have your name on it?”

Your eyes widen in embarrassment, heat creeping up your cheeks, “oh my god, are you serious? I didn’t sign it?”

Sam laughs softly, his eyes crinkling the same way. There are lines decorating his eyes but he was still your Sam.

“No, ma’am.” He declares, the air somehow lighter now, “if you did, I would’ve said something.”

A hum escapes your lips, curling into a gentle smile, “good to know.”

The comfortable silence envelops the room, years of yearning and pining finally coming to end.

“Hey, after this mission - I was thinking if you want to go out. Catch up and you know, finally, talk in person.” Sam asks, there’s still a tiny voice inside his head not believing the talk that had transpired.

“I’d love that, Sam.”

The sentiment crashes and closes in on itself as Bucky barges into the room, holding a bucket of ice in one hand and a pack of beer in the other, “congratulations, idiots.”

[qqueenofhades]

Fake dating AU for the idiot Heartrender Husbands! I beg of you!

As ever, I am preposterously easy to enable, and since they will eventually make an appearance in A Phantom in Enchanting Light, I decided to write their backstory for that verse. Also, “fake dating but it’s only fake because they’re both idiots” is an Aesthetic. I love them.

Moscow, 2010

The guy is most definitely late. Fedyor got here early – probably too early, since they’re supposed to meet at eleven and he arrived by quarter past ten – but it’s now 11:08 and still no sign of him. Fedyor has claimed a corner table in the coffee shop just off Red Square with its splendid old tsarist-era décor, surrounded by the murmur of conversation and clicking laptop keys as his fellow Muscovites get on with their daily lives. The rule is fifteen minutes, yes? If Ivan Sakharov doesn’t show up in another seven, Fedyor is free to bail. But it’s been so long, and Nadia, the mutual friend responsible for this set-up, has begged Fedyor to give him a chance. And since it is understandably difficult to date as a gay man in Russia, Fedyor’s patience must be tested longer than usual. He sips his flat white and glances at the door again. Still no Ivan.

Fedyor opens his phone and checks the photo that Nadia sent him, trying to decide if this man is attractive enough to compensate for his tardiness. It’s hard to tell. It is 11:14, and he is absolutely about to pack up and leave by no later than 11:25, when a tall, grim-faced man in a red windbreaker strides in. He stops short, glances around, spots Fedyor, and powers over with such single-minded determination that Fedyor fears he’s about to be arrested. “Hello,” he says curtly. “I am Ivan Ivanovich Sakharov. I believe you are waiting for me?”

“Ah – ? I am Fedyor Mikhailovich Kaminsky, yes,” he manages, offering a hand, which Ivan crushes in a Terminator grip. “It’s – nice to meet you?”

Ivan snorts, pulls out the other chair, and drapes his jacket over it, then orders a small plain coffee (black like his soul, evidently). Then he returns, sits down, and claps his hands as if he is calling a misbehaving class to attention. “Where are you from?” he barks. “How long have you lived in Moscow?!”

Fedyor continues to gape. He’s genuinely not sure if this is Ivan attempting to get to know him on speed-run, or if he’s being interrogated by a FSB agent who can’t even act for two seconds like he’s not. It’s ominously possible. Dmitry Medvedev is the president and there are hopes that there might be a social liberalization, but the Orthodox patriarchs and the far right have been increasingly agitating against Russia’s embattled LGBTQ community, and things could just as easily get worse. Is this a setup or a setup? Nadia would never knowingly put him in a dangerous situation, of course, but maybe she was likewise fooled. You’d think that if this was a sting, they could have found a guy who was actually capable of pretending to be on a date, but maybe that’s the point? What the hell is going on here?

Fedyor opens his mouth, then shuts it. As a matter of fact, he is originally from Nizhny Novgorod, but moved to Moscow for university and has lived here for seven years, but if Ivan is with the FSB, he probably already knows that. Is this a trick? Is Ivan trying to match him to some police intelligence file or see if he’s a liar? Fedyor is seriously about to get up and walk out (or maybe sprint out) when Ivan, perhaps realizing that he’s blowing this to a heretofore unprecedented degree, says, “Sorry. I am from Krasnoyarsk. I enjoy rugby.”

Of course he likes rugby if he’s from Krasnoyarsk. This is a disaster. “Uh, what side?”

“Krasny Yar,” says Ivan, in the tone of a man about to stand up and belt out the fight song. “I also enjoy football. Yenisey Krasnoyarsk. Though I have begun supporting Lokomotiv since I came to Moscow. That was five years ago.”

So, he’s definitely a hooligan. Fedyor does his best to keep smiling. In the flesh, Ivan is definitely not unattractive. His hair is crisp and brown, there are glints of hazel in his eyes, and he has that hard, chiseled handsomeness that Fedyor always ends up getting suckered into. Except for the fact that he is lively, extroverted, and outgoing, likes clubbing and mingling and making friends, and this man does not appear to have ever heard of a single one of those things. What was Nadia thinking? It’s not like her to whiff this badly. Or did she have to be so circumspect in asking Ivan if he would like to meet Fedyor that, even if he’s not an undercover cop, he is in fact clueless about the true nature of this social engagement? Thinks it’s guys being pals?

“Did you have somewhere you were coming from earlier?” Fedyor asks, after another excruciating silence. “Is that why you were – ?”

“My apologies. The bus was late. I am normally very punctual.” Ivan scowls ferociously, as if the bus ever dares to do such a thing again, he will personally murder it. “What hobbies do you enjoy, Fedyor Mikhailovich?”

“I think you can call me Fedyor, yes?” They are clearly nowhere near “Fedya” and “Vanya” just yet, but “Fedyor Mikhailovich” always makes Fedyor look around warily for his grumpiest professor at MSU. He tries to think of subtle conversational gambits to find out what Ivan knows, without being obvious. Oh God, he really should just cut his losses, but something – perhaps the pathetic conviction that even a terrible date is better than no date at all – keeps him in his seat. Presuming that he does get out of here alive, he will call up Nadia straightaway and ask her many, many questions, mostly consisting of Why??! “Well,” Fedyor says at last. “I like having fun?”

“I also enjoy fun,” Ivan says, stone-faced. “I am very funny.”

Russian humor is normally extremely deadpan, to the point that Fedyor does wonder if Ivan is in fact a diabolical troll genius, but somehow he doesn’t think so. The rest of the conversation proceeds in this fashion, but by the end of an hour, Fedyor still has no idea if he has just been on a date or a trip to the gulag. Ivan gets up, administers another bone-crushing handshake, thanks him for his time, and marches out. Fedyor can practically hear the Red Army Choir thundering some patriotic anthem in his wake.

When he gets home that afternoon, Fedyor is resolved to write off the whole thing, except it was weirdly kind of not as bad as he first thought, maybe, somehow. If nothing else, he’s fascinated by this, like watching a slow-motion train crash. He takes out his phone with the intention of calling Nadia, only to see a text message from an unfamiliar number. When he opens it, it reads, Hello. Your company was agreeable today. Thank you. Perhaps we could meet again next week. Please reply yes or no. The message uses the formal styles of address, and some of the spellings are slightly old-fashioned. He has also signed it – Иван Сахаров – in case there might be some confusion with another Ivan the Terrible at Dating of Fedyor’s recent acquaintance. It is a bit like getting a text from the undertaker.

Fedyor stares at it, insanely tempted to burst out laughing, and finally, just because now he’s too curious to refuse, texts back his gracious acceptance. Still chuckling, he makes dinner, and then, as his phone pings with Ivan’s response, wonders in horror what on earth he is getting himself into.

This is how things continue for the next six weeks. Ivan and Fedyor meet up for the second time, stroll sedately around one of Moscow’s many city parks together, then part ways, and this time it’s Fedyor’s turn to ask if he would like to do it again. He isn’t sure exactly why, except that Ivan is unexpectedly easy to spend time with, and he nods in stoic approval of whatever Fedyor says. Of course, they follow the usual rules of dating which are especially important in Russia: don’t talk about politics, don’t talk about religion, don’t talk about America, don’t talk about Ukraine, don’t talk about Chechnya. From what Fedyor can glean, Ivan’s views tend to the doctrinaire, but he is surprisingly undogmatic, and willing to at least act as if he has an open mind. If he was an FSB agent, it feels like he would have busted Fedyor by now, but maybe he is waiting for him to do something unmistakably gay. That’s not it. Right?

Nadia calls, wanting to know how it’s going, and Fedyor grills her for forty minutes over whether Ivan is a law enforcement plant, a lonely guy looking for a friend, the world’s most method practical joker, or just extremely stupid. Nadia insists that he is actually very nice once you get to know him (HA, thinks Fedyor) and has no particular affection for either the ruling classes or the oligarchs. He can certainly be an acquired taste, but he is not evil.

Forced to accept it, still chickening out of asking Ivan whether he knows they’re dating, wondering if they are dating, if Ivan knows that Fedyor knows they’re dating, if Fedyor only thinks he knows that they are dating while they are not actually dating, or if Ivan thinks he knows that they’re dating while they’re… whatever the fresh-fried fuck is truly happening here, Fedyor trudges off for what has become his almost-weekly rendezvous with Ivan the-Maybe-Not-Quite-So-Terrible. They manage to have a few conversations verging on meaningful, and Fedyor has found himself telling Ivan about his family and Nizhny Novgorod and other such things. Fedyor likes to talk and Ivan likes to listen, though he breaks in now and again with a bone-dry quip. He’s still never what you would call loquacious, or easily forthcoming, but Fedyor likes that. Ivan is tough, complex, enigmatic, guarded, occasionally willing to let down his walls but only if the other person is worth it, and Fedyor finds, to his surprise, that he wants to be worth it. If this is a long-con mind game, he almost doesn’t care. (Almost.)

The problem, however, is that they’ve been seeing each other regularly for a month and a half and they haven’t gotten any closer than walking through a park, outdoors, in full view of their fellow comrades. Even the first time Fedyor takes the plunge and invites Ivan to his apartment, they sit three feet apart on the couch, watching a badly-Russian-subtitled version of Die Hard and providing critical commentary. Fedyor’s English is a lot more fluent than Ivan’s, and his middle-class family, while not exactly wealthy, is definitely better off than Ivan’s hardscrabble clan of miners and loggers in Siberia. That upbringing certainly does explain, to some degree, why Ivan is the way he is, and Fedyor wonders anxiously if Ivan views him as an insufferably posh city boy. Ivan barely finished high school and went straight to working in a Krasnoyarsk aluminum factory. He definitely did not faff around Moscow State University and attend global development seminars in Paris.

Nonetheless, despite their obvious differences, they do get along, and Fedyor is unable to deny the fact that he would, if it’s all right with everyone, like it to be more than that. Of course, finding out if Ivan knows, etc. etc., has been the paramount challenge, and there is no way to find out other than to go for it. Fedyor is 75% sure that they’ve been going steady for two months, but if it’s actually the other 25%, this is going to get awkward in a hurry. Is this essentially a fake relationship, or is it only fake because they’re both idiots?

After having duly commended his soul to God, Fedyor invites Ivan over on Saturday night. He rents a tiny flat by himself since he’s been burned on rooming with strangers, but Ivan is used to it by now, and it doesn’t feel too small with the two of them. Fedyor strains his limited culinary skills to cook supper, probably making his babushka cluck her tongue and sigh in a judgmental fashion back in Nizhny Novgorod, and they sit down and eat in silence for five minutes. Then Fedyor says, “Vanya?”

The consistent use of the diminutive has started sometime in the last few weeks, neither of them remember quite when. Ivan doesn’t correct him. “Yes?”

Fedyor clears his throat. “Do you…” He winces. “Do you… like me?”

“Yes?” Ivan says again, looking confused. “I would not have spent so much time with you if I did not, don’t you think? We are friends.”

“Yes, I know that we’re friends, but…” Fedyor looks at the ceiling. It doesn’t help, so he looks back at Ivan. “Are we… special friends?”

Ivan continues to look blank. “Are we?”

Fedyor resists the urge to tug at his collar, thinking that it’s a damn good thing that he didn’t go with his other idea of just leaning across the table and passionately kissing him. With absolutely no change of tone or expression, Ivan says, “Please explain. Special friends how?”

“Friends who want to…” Fedyor takes a deep breath. “Be… more than friends?”

“How?” Ivan orders again, ruthlessly. “Be clear, Fedya.”

“Are we maybe… boyfriends?” Fedyor’s voice squeaks on the word. “As in… we have feelings for each other that aren’t just… friendly? Like… feelings which are… romantic?”

Ivan continues to stare at him like a statue for several more seconds, and Fedyor contemplates the feasibility of tunneling directly through the floor of his apartment and running all the way to Latvia. Then at last, Ivan throws his head back and – startling Fedyor deeply – breaks into real, genuine, belly laughter, the kind that he has never heard from Ivan before. “Oh my,” he chortles, slapping the table. “Your face. You were sweating bullets.”

“WAIT, WHAT!?!” Fedyor pushes his chair back and stands up with a clatter, incandescently outraged. “Are you – were you messing with me?!!”

“Maybe a little,” Ivan says, wiping his eyes. “You know, all this time, I have not been sure if you are shy or a terrible prude. Why haven’t you kissed me yet?”

“God’s Mother in Heaven – ” Fedyor feels another prick of disloyalty to his babushka for swearing on the Bogomater, but some people deserve it. All inhibitions forgotten, he charges at Ivan like a runaway train, as Ivan springs out of his own chair in readiness, and starts pounding on his chest in transports of fury. “You are the worst! You are the worst person ever! For two months, what have we been doing?! I have been afraid this whole time that maybe you don’t know what’s really going on, and now – ?! You are the worst!”

Ivan catches Fedyor’s flailing arms, holds them away from him, and picks him up bodily, swinging him around and pushing him against the wall. “Maybe I am just a dumb country boy from Siberia,” he remarks, “but even I am not that stupid, Fedyor Mikhailovich.”

“I hate you,” Fedyor pants, their faces and their mouths an inch away from each other. “Get out of my apartment.”

“Mmm?” Ivan cocks an eyebrow. Then he plants both hands on either side of Fedyor’s head, leans in, and deeply, savagely captures Fedyor’s mouth with his own.

Every remaining vestige of barely rational thought in Fedyor’s head evaporates in screaming shock. He still wants to shove Ivan away, knee him in the balls, or break a chair over his head, but if he did that, he would have to stop kissing him, and he can’t do that either. He moans, Ivan’s tongue takes the opportunity to slip into his mouth, their hands clutch and claw and their legs melt out from under them, they turn away or break contact only to gulp a breath before diving back in again, and the next time Fedyor is aware of anything, they have collapsed on his kitchen floor in a wrung-out, entangled, gasping heap. Ivan says in his ear, “Do you still want me to leave, Fedya?”

“No,” Fedyor manages. “Because now, I am really going to make you suffer.”

Ivan’s smile is dark and full of promise. He pulls back, gets to his feet, and holds out a hand. “Then I’ll meet you in the bedroom.”

(Ivan doesn’t leave Fedyor’s apartment that night. He doesn’t leave it the next night either. At the end of the week, Fedyor calls up Nadia and informs her that he hates her so much, and when they do next see each other, he’ll shake her by both shoulders and then thank her for introducing him to the no-good, truly awful, very bad love of his life.)

[the-darklings]

dunno if i'm late for otp ask thing but entire damn thing for jean/clara pls!! they seem really interesting and I want to know them better before your book is done. thank you kat love you!!

you were not late, anon. I, on other hand, am. thank you so much for enabling me tho oh my goddddd seeing this burst my heart open like a pomegranate. I know literally no one cares for this but i'm rustling up my comfort where I can get it.

1. What are things they both find funny?

other people, ignorance, and less sardonically, each other.

2. If they could each describe each other in one sentence, what would it be?

jean: "the most dangerous woman alive." clara: "the most insufferable man alive."

3. If they complimented each other, what would they say?

really depends. clara isn't the most beautiful woman he's been with or even known, but she gets under his skin in a way no one can, so the smallest, most mundane things grow incredibly attractive to him quickly when it comes to her. he's especially fond of her freckles and smiles though. in general, he showers her with compliments near-daily and without ulterior motive. he just likes how she glows under his praise and he wants her to know precisely how much he desires her. for her, it's a bit different. jean is incredibly attractive but to a point he's often objectified by others for it. so she compliments things closer to her heart. like his crooked, genuine smiles because they're so rare yet warm his entire face (one dimple, crinkles around his eyes) from his usual iciness.

4. What would be their ship name?

jean + clara = jeara. their ship tag is also 'almost love' (which they've changed a fair bit from what I had in mind for them originally, but I like the tag too much to alter it now, and it still applies in many ways). 5. What activities do they enjoy together?

I answered this when the otp ask thing was first dropped but pretty much anything. from visiting museums together, reading together, dinners, working, taking baths, or going for long drives with windows rolled down and music blasting and an insane amount of sex 6. What is/are their love language(s)?

they honestly hit all 5 between them, but physical touch/quality time/acts of service/words of affirmation are likely the big ones with their lifestyle. 7. Write a ~300-word love scene for them. 

Sometimes he wonders if he should have made better decisions in his life.

The answer is, undeniably, yes. Jean finds, however, that allowing Clara close is equivalent to laying in a bed of coals still hot with emotion. Right now she's languid, stretched out comfortably while still tucked close to his side, her nose nestled against the hollow of his throat. Having her this near is its own type of torture. Often Jean merely does this to test himself, to see how long he can resist her pull.

"I like that one," she decrees, a touch sleepy, and he resists the urge to tug on her messy french braid. "Read it to me again?"

"Taking comfort in the familiar?"

His words are cutting thanks to years spent being nothing but piercing icy edges, softened only by the innate fondness he has for her. With Clara, his words rumble out more teasing, his breath fanning over her temple when she presses even closer. Leaching his warmth. Such a greedy, needy thing, his viper.

Her cheek ticks upwards in a smile he doesn't see but feels even underneath his jumper.

"If the familiar is you," she drawls fondly. "Then maybe."

8. What were their first impressions of each other?

mutual distrust and dislike lmfao

9. Have they made each other cry?

not yet, but they will : ) 10. Write a ~300-word argument scene for them. 

"You insufferable, reckless idiot-"

"Yes, mon amour."

"Don't you mon amour me," she seethes. "What were you thinking?! You could have gotten yourself killed. You know, one day someone will just get sick of your snarky, asshole speeches and just blow your brains out-"

"Nonsense," Jean dismisses, unperturbed despite the blood caking his once-crisp shirt. "You were there. Besides..."

He pinches her chin between his fingers, tugging her closer for a quick kiss. Scant, nothing like their usual kisses consisting of teeth, nails, and buried in muffled moans. "I had you there," he continues as if that explains shit. "I pity any fool who dares to harm anyone you like."

"Like you?" she scoffs, forcing back her curdling terror and stilling her trembling fingers. "A bit presumptuous of you."

A blink, and his nonchalant mask shifts, leaving Jean straight-faced and cold. Focused and honed in on her alone. His larger fingers swallow up hers, tugging her closer, leaning their faces close.

"I'm not going anywhere," he whispers, every word severe despite the softness, answering a question, a worry, she hadn't voiced. "You're stuck with me for a very long time, vipère. It's just a scratch."

Her eyes slip shut at his comforting, dark murmur in her ear. "I'm kicking your ass when that heals."

A rumbling chuckle washes over her, so rare even now. "I do believe I hear a challenge. I can't possibly refuse my favourite opponent, now can I? We'll see who'll come out on top this time, hm?"

He takes her trembling, bloodied hand and encloses it securely in his.

11. What causes them to fight?

they bicker constantly, but big blowout fights are much rarer since they're pretty decent about communicating even on the off chance they do argue. the crux of their problems is often the fact that he's vvv ruthless. while clara can be just as ruthless, it's much rarer unless she, or someone she loves, is threatened. for her, it's a defense mechanism. for him, it's the natural state of being. so, arguments sometimes stem from that, but she respects him a lot and doesn't like undermining him, so it's more often behind closed doors. another big one is his emotional unavailability initially. she's trying to claw down those walls, and he makes it anything but easy for her. 12. Do they have differing political opinions?

nope, not really. 13. Name something they would never do for the other person. 

for her, it's a matter of never sacrificing her family. she would happily sacrifice herself for him but never them. for jean, uh, the best way I could describe it is being unwilling to give himself to her fully (initially). 14. What would be a dealbreaker?

him knowingly and willingly harming anyone at the pit (and not just ooh they're in danger, but they actually die-die type of deal) would probs come vvv close. for him.......... if she's inside him, then she's in there. 15. What are traits they dislike in one another?

kinda looping back to 11 but while jean (at least inwardly) acknowledges that traits he would criticize and shun in others - and especially himself - he admires in her, clara's willingness to trust people and stay open with them often puts her life in danger. and a danger to her life is an affront to him since he considers them extensions of one another, so his feelings on her reliance/trust in others can often be mixed. because while he admires the strength it takes to stick by your conviction even through betrays etc, if it harms her, it's anything but acceptable to him. as for her, well, jean is a Class A manipulator and plays people like his favourite game. while she strongly admires this trait as well, if it's directed at people she cares for, she can get pissed very quickly. 16. If they broke up, what would be their opinions of each other?

depends on circumstances and who does the breaking tbh. they can range from heartbroken/regretting-it-but-won't-show it to outright enemies. regardless, even if they do break up, they're too strongly bound and far too intertwined to ever be rid of one another. they're the classic no matter what we do, we always end up back together for better or for worse. their feelings for one another are too strong to simply move on, though both might attempt it.

17. What senses (sights, smells, feelings, etc). remind them of each other?

for jean: sunlight, jasmine, earth, the rustling of trees melding with bird song, sweet tangerines, poison, elderflower tea, nigh sky (her freckles), satin, serrated blades, the phantom heat of her laughter against his neck, dimples and creased freckles, her cheek on his shoulder, soft tendrils of her hair slipping and looping through his fingers.

for clara: glaciers, deep night, darkness, cold winter, tallness, tobacco, car leather, the rustling of a tailored suit, black coffee, chocolate, charcoal, classic rock, the scratch of pen/pencil in his notebook as he sketches, a heated murmur of her real name, arm secure around her waist, neck kisses, tucked safely in his lap while he reads to her (usually in french). 18. What would be their love motto?

"no matter what." 19. If they could each write a single line in their marriage vows, what would they be?

this is a hard one because if they did get married I imagine a vvv private ceremony, likely just them and witnesses. if there are any vows they're spoken between them only. likely promising a lifetime of devotion and assurance that whatever broken pieces of them are still intact belong to each other. 20. What is a promise they have made to each other?

perhaps not verbally but patience & to believe in one another no matter what happens. 21. How have they changed each other for the better/for the worse?

they've mutually done both lmao. she reminds him what it means to be alive, how to remember and take joy in the smallest things and see the world that he's grown rather jaded about through different eyes. in general, she opened him up to new experiences and feelings he has sworn off years ago despite his reluctance. for her, he straight up just teaches her how to live (this might sound odd but it will make more sense when you find out more about what kind of life clara led up to the point these two meet, but let's just say its not really life at all, and she's incredibly deprived of most basic human experiences). they've also, undoubtedly, made each other worse. much, much worse. they're both dangerous individuals in their own right, but what they can unleash for each other is, uh, kinda terrifying. they def make each other more dangerous, especially jean (good old 'when someone who doesn't love anyone or anything, finally finds someone to care about...' though he shows this in very roundabout/merciless ways) 22. If their lives were what was originally intended at birth, would they have still fallen in love?

honestly? yes, I think so. even if they led very mundane lives (so no involvement in the shadow world & crime) they still have complementary personalities. it's true they would both be significantly less damaged/guarded (a big bonding element for them is being able to see/love each other's darkness) but they would still have their very sharp minds and ambition to bind them. if anything I think they would do really well in simply understanding and encouraging each other's hunger. 23. Write a ~300 scene between them with no dialogue, only body language.

It's creation.

The raw, stunning kind that bewitches Clara completely. There's nothing more addictive than watching herself being birthed into existence through his eyes. By his hands. Jean is meticulous - always has been. Details others overlook or don't care to see are the grey areas he exists in. It's what makes him so good at what he does, she thinks. Humans are details. Smallest, most mundane details.

How he sees the puzzle of her makes her tender with loving him.

Seated opposite to him, nursing her morning coffee, Clara watches Jean work silently. A black ball pen and a blank page, ink flowing like a river where he touches. It's all he needs. She's mesmerized by the act - its raw beauty, and its simplicity. His depiction of her face doesn't entirely feel like her own. Is this what he sees when he looks her way?

Strong, arresting stare, full mouth, heart-shaped face, freckles splattered across her nose, and chestnut hair that flows around her features like a dark ocean. A simple drawing; more of a loose sketch, really, no specific technique, but he has immortalized her with this single act. Created her like a faithful paying homage to his beloved deity, and Clara can't help but warm when his icy stare flicks her way. Tracing her lips, chin and brows, her mussed hair.

She loves it when he looks at her. Loves it, even more, when he can't quite look away. As if she contains the entire spectrum of colour and life for him. He makes her feel alive with nothing but his eyes.

Tucking her chin in her hand, Clara leans on her elbow, giving him a soft smile. His own mouth twitches in return, his bed hair tempting her closer. She wants to place another love bite right next to the one she spies on his tanned neck, strong tendons twitching under her keen observation.

Still smiling, she reaches for the notebook, unable to force her smile down when she takes in her features from a closer angle. Her face is now commonplace amongst sketches of architecture, birds, and animals.

It's love. The way he draws her. Even if he doesn't say it often verbally, Jean Laurent has a thousand other ways to tell her just how much he adores her.

24. What is something they have each had to forgive the other for?

the entirety of npfh canon post-ase lmfao

25. What moves do they know work on the other?

forcefully yanking his tie off always gets her eyes on him. loosening her hair so it rests around her face/shoulders/back, draws him nearer like a bee to honey. he craves to touch it, scent it and bury his nose in it, arms tight around her. also hearing him laughing genuinely. she thinks he doesn't know it drives her crazy and makes her want to kiss him every time she hears it but he totally knows. mutual, heated eye contact at an event, egging each other on too, and just in case anyone is wondering, yes, semi-public is def a thing with these two. 26. What are their favorite parts about physical affection/sex?

ooh, for her it's everything. all of it. from most chaste to the filthiest. jean is not the first man she's been with, she has experience, but what he does to her no one else can. he often doesn't need to do anything sexual, just look at her, drinking her in, appreciating her. every time he touches her it's as if he's dipping his hands in liquid gold - and that's what she feels like when with him: golden. every edge of her desired, wanted, needed, and above all else, cherished. for him, well, she lowkey destroys him. or, rather, his guards. his impenetrable armour is ashes when she's near. he never quite knows what he will get: a woman who kisses and touches him with such adoration, loving him so fiercely as if he's center of her universe or a woman whose all teeth, snarl, and bite, leaving him bloodied with her passion. either way, it's so perfect he gravitates towards her as if she's the sun with her own orbit. 27. Do they have any kinks/fetishes that they share?

pretty much all of them <3 they're both rather sexual and both are open to trying new things together as well. basically, they're the hot couple you encounter at a bar/club/event and end up having a hot threesome with all night long ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ 28. Write a ~300 fantasy one of them has about the other. 

is it still a fantasy if it's happened?

His wet, rough breath sears the shell of her ear. Panting, Clara presses closer, tucked away from sight in the shadowed alcove. Barely. In truth, anyone walking by could see them if they focused on the shadows for longer than a split second.

People have been cutting across the hallway back and forth all night.

"If Ramona finds us-"

"I don't care," Jean snaps back, his steady baritone frayed, heavier. His accent drips from his tongue far less controlled, splintering further, and she tightens around him, earning her a deep groan. "Let her see."

"But the guests-"

"Fuck the guests," he shoots back, even darker, driving deeper into her. Her satin dress is pulled upwards, pooling around her waist, the wall cold and hard, her body lurching into it with every merciless snap of Jean's hips from behind. "And everyone else."

His hot tongue swirls around the shell of her ear and she moans, arching her back. Jean slips a hand across her mouth, smothering the sound in its wake. A second later the dull thud of footsteps penetrates her ears, a thrill shooting down her spine and electrifying her skin. Rolling her hips deliberately, Clara smiles into his hand when a pained hiss slips past Jean's teeth. Good.

Footsteps near, and his hips jolt forward, pulsing inside her, deeper, deeper-

"Naughty, naughty," a low voice drawls, and Clara jerks in her spot, the cooling bath water sloshing around her as she blinks herself back into reality. "What were you daydreaming about, chérie?"

Jean leans in the bathroom doorway, tracing her bare, wet collarbone with heated intent.

Steadying her thudding heart, Clara tucks her chin back into the lapping water, the scent of flowers and bath oils permeating the air. "Remembering that time Ramona and Augustin held a function, and you decided it would be a good idea to fuck me out in the open."

Blue sparks with mischief, an additional layer of simmering heat blooming in him with her recollection. "Oh? I do believe that was one of my favourites. Care for a repeat, amour?"

A laugh slips free from her, her toes stretching to dull a mild throb now between her legs. "You're unbelievable."

Rolling his eyes, Jean enters the space, cutting through the steam. "I know," he whispers stagely with a sly, wide-eyed expression, pulling off his shirt smoothly, leaving the bare expense of his wide shoulders and muscled body for her to appreciate. "It's why you adorer me, non?"

She splashes water in his face in reply.

29. What are each of their signature foreplay moves?

for him: undressing her oh so slowly, or ripping her clothes clean off when she really works him up, gradual neck kisses, stroking every inch of her skin despite knowing every crevice and freckle already. for her: biting his lip, pulling on his hair, heavy/sly eye contact. also oral. 69 is one of their fave things. 30. Write a short exchange of dirty talk between them. 

"Mhm, missed you."

Hot, wet kisses trail up his throat, followed by a hard bite and a suck. Jean forces back a groan. Heat surges through his veins, leaving him cursing how well-versed she's become at working him up. Clara grinds on him; deliberate, wanton. Her back arched, and entirely untamed in her need. She peppers tiny, greedy kisses up his jaw, unfazed by his stubble. She's no doubt savouring the burn, the friction. She gets ever so sweet when he's between her legs instead.

"I can tell," he murmurs hotly, guiding her hips, working her on the rapidly growing hardness between his legs, still amused by how shamelessly she has seated herself in his lap. He feels her desire burning beneath his chilled fingertips and yanks her to him, hands in her hair. "Look at you. So good for me. Are you wet yet, vipère?"

She hmms again, working her way up to his mouth, kissing him hard, her hands bracing his face.

"My, my, si gourmande," he whispers with a faint chuckle when they finally part for breath. "Next time, I'll be sure to take you in front of others if you can't wait. Would you like that, vipère, hm? If I put you on my lap while playing poker, and let you hmm... work yourself to that sweet, sweet rapture? Right there for everyone to see. You do enjoy being seen, non? Adored. Oui, you're so impatient. Maybe I'd put you on your knees instead. So you feel the carpet burn for a week straight. You do like it when I fuck you from behind."

"So do you," she gasps, licking across his bottom lip with a small nibble. "I'll let you fuck me in front of others. But we both know others will hear you moaning my name first."

31. What do they love to do after sex?

oh, she's a big every-inch-of-me-needs-to-touch-you kind of person. even if it's only for a few minutes, she likes coming off her high, nuzzling herself close, kissing his skin, luxuriating in the aftermath (likewise he's more outwardly possessive of her when right after a high). despite the mess (and it is a damn mess, neither is satisfied until she's a physical wreck and marked in every which way and not just hickeys) these few instances of closeness are a must for her. 32. Do they enjoy morning or night sex?

they enjoy anytime-any-place sex : )

[clumsyclifford]

I think u said that you’d still like some more prompts, so #89 “I noticed” with either muke or malum pls ♥️

well i asked pairing bot and it said muke, so there you go. thank you @allsassnoclass for helping me Establish The Setting of this fic. by which i mean Providing The Setting For Me. a gift to us all, that hazel

also as resident walking advertisement for @calumsclifford‘s fics i am contractually obliged to redirect you to her bookstore fic which is an absolute delight

read on ao3

-

Nothing hits quite like the atmosphere of a bookstore.

Shelves of books, racks of vinyls, displays advertising “Staff Picks” — the allure of the local bookstore will never not work magic on Luke. Even the pop music trickling down from the built-in ceiling speakers is charming, rather than annoying.

“Okay, go find your book,” Ashton says. “I’m gonna go in the nonfiction section if you need me.”

“Sure thing, old man,” Luke says. 

Ashton scoffs. “I like nonfiction. If that makes me an old man, then so be it.”

“Hey, I’m not judging.”

“You are judging so hard, and I don’t even care. I’m going to go browse autobiographies and I’m going to fucking like it.” With this final word, Ashton marches in the direction of the nonfiction books. Luke watches him, smirking, until he vanishes into the shelves, and then he makes for the young adult section on the other side of the shop. If this book is going to be anywhere, it’ll be there.

As always, he’s immediately drawn off-course.

The staff picks catch his eye. Normally Luke breezes past them, but this time he spies a cover he actually recognises: Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe, a book he’d read only a few months ago. As his gaze shifts lower, it catches on the note underneath the book, identifying the name of the staff member whose recommendation he’s enjoying: Michael. Next to his name is a short note about his choice. Luke steps closer to read it.

Philosophy and boys in love. And a general distaste for wearing shoes. What else do you need?

Luke smiles and reaches for the book. He’s already read it and he has a copy at home; he’s not going to buy the copy, but it’s nice to hold it in his hands anyway, flip through the pages and feel the air shift as he does.

“Good choice,” says an unfamiliar voice. Luke lifts his head and almost drops the book.

Woah. Cute boy alert. Extremely cute boy red alert. The levels of cute on this boy are enough to make Luke want to call Ashton over for backup. He’s terrible with cute boys, especially cute boys that also look really cool like this one, with bright red hair and a pierced eyebrow and a Nirvana t-shirt. Add that to the fact that he evidently has some degree of good taste in literature, considering he’s just complimented Luke’s selection, and Luke is flailing out of his depth.

In the deeply awkward pause before Luke remembers he’s supposed to say something to Cute Boy, his gaze travels to the nametag pinned to Cute Boy’s shirt. MICHAEL, it announces in block letters, and Luke puts two and two together.

“Oh, you too,” Luke says, which is a surprisingly coherent thing to say. All things considered it could have gone a lot worse. Which it then proceeds to do. “You’re the Michael who picked this? I guess? You — your nametag says Michael, so— I was just assuming. Which I know you’re not supposed to do because it makes an ass out of you and me, but since you said it was a good choice…”

Michael slowly smiles. “Yeah, I’m the Michael. You are?”

An easy question. Thank fuck. “Luke. I’m Luke.”

Michael hums and nods at the book. “Have you read it?”

Luke tries to take a discreet deep breath. “Yeah, I did. A few months ago. I might be due for a reread.”

“Well, it’s one of my favourites,” Michael comments. “So I’ll always be on the side of an Ari and Dante reread.”

“Yeah,” Luke says, nodding like this makes perfect sense. It does, but God, he doesn’t have to nod like a crazy person. “Yeah. Good point.” Then, directly contradicting this concurrence, he sets the book back down on the display. “I’ve got this at home, though. I’m actually here for a different book.”

“Oh, perfect,” says Michael, straightening up. “Then I can do my real job. What can I help you find?”

Luke does not need help finding this book, but he would be a complete idiot to refuse the help of Cute Bookstore Employee Michael. “Uh, The Cursed Child. I know it came out a while ago but I just haven’t had the chance to get it and I really wanted to get it from a bookstore, rather than online, you know?”

Michael brightens. “Oh, I can definitely find that for you. Follow.” He gestures, and Luke falls into step with him as they make for the young adult shelves, completing Luke’s aborted mission from earlier. “You want my opinion on the book, or you want it to remain a complete mystery?”

“You’ve read it? Are you a Harry Potter fan?” Luke asks, far too eagerly. Sheepish, he bites his lip, sneaking a glance at Michael to see him smile. “Uh, sorry. I’m— I really like Harry Potter, like, a lot.”

“I noticed,” Michael says, nodding at Luke, who glances down at himself. 

“Oh,” he says, chuckling at his Deathly Hallows shirt. “I honestly didn’t do that on purpose. I wasn’t thinking about it at all.”

“Your subconscious enabling your love of Harry Potter, clearly,” Michael says. “Yeah, I like it. Not my favourite series, but it’s good. I mostly only read Cursed Child because I was bored, but—” He breaks off. “Sorry. Won’t spoil it.”

Luke grapples with himself. On the one hand, he is the most averse to spoilers of anyone he’s ever met. If it’s a book he’s looking forward to reading, he will ban all family and friends from even discussing it in his presence, lest their opinions on it taint his before he’s able to read it and draw his own conclusions. And this isn’t just any book; it’s Cursed Child, the long-awaited spin-off, the first official continuation of the Harry Potter ‘verse in years. No, he doesn’t want Michael’s opinion on it. He doesn’t want anyone’s opinions. He hasn’t even read the summary for the book on Goodreads. The more blind Luke goes into this, the better.

On the other hand, though.

Well, on the other hand, Michael is a cute boy who’s offering to talk to Luke about a book.

As a compromise, Luke says, “Honestly, I would really like to know your thoughts, but not until I’ve finished reading it.”

Michael glances over at him as they slow to a stop in front of one of the shelves. There’s a smile playing at his lips, a slight raise to his eyebrows, like he’s pleasantly surprised by something Luke’s done. What that thing might be, Luke has no idea. “Okay,” says Michael. “That’s fair. How about I give you my number, and when you finish reading it you can call or text and we can discuss it then?”

Luke blinks. Then blinks again. Is Michael flirting with him? He must be, but at the same time there’s absolutely no way.

And — wait. Does Michael think Luke was flirting with him? Was Luke? Not intentionally, but that’s only because he doesn’t know how to flirt and he’s fucking awful at it. Somehow, he’s managed to unintentionally flirt his way into getting Michael’s number.

Woah. Bookstores really are magical.

“Yeah, yes, that sounds great,” Luke says, clumsily digging out his phone. He unlocks it and passes it to Michael, who has an amused look on his face. “We could, um…get coffee or something?”

“Works for me,” Michael says. While he enters his number into Luke’s phone, Luke turns to the shelf. His attention immediately snags on his target: a block of bright yellow covers. Luke tugs at one, freeing it from its siblings, and brushes a reverent hand over the brand new dust jacket. 

“I mean, say what you will, but it sure is a pretty fucking book,” he says, kind of to himself.

Michael chuckles. “Yeah. The second-prettiest thing in this bookstore, maybe.”

For the second time, Luke almost drops the book in his hands. Instead he tightens his grip on it, looks up at Michael, and steels all his courage to say, “First being you, right?”

The smile on Michael’s face is worth the risk of embarrassment, Luke quickly realises. And this, he senses, had clearly been the right thing to say. Michael hands Luke’s phone back to him an says, “I’m going to let you have the last word, because I think you’re cute and that was unexpectedly smooth. If you need me, I’ll be around, probably doing work that will be less important than anything you will have to say to me.”

Luke feels a blush colour his cheeks, but if Michael notices he doesn’t say anything. With a wave and what looks like a halfway bow, he backs out of the aisle, and Luke watches him until he veers off and disappears from view.

Everything from entering this bookstore onward feels like a fever dream. Luke glances down at his phone screen, and when he sees how Michael’s entered his name — Michael (The Real Cursed Child) — the giggle of disbelief building in his throat quickly turns to a laugh. If it is a fever dream, Luke hopes it never, ever ends.

[the-acid-pear]

Tumblr refuses to let me reblog the post again, so this is the second part of me reading the second btg book! ☺️

Still Chapter 211

Son on son violence

Chapter 212

This dude pretty cute ngl

Shit, rip

AAWW HIGH 5 🥺🥺

It's almost like they are a regular father and son 😭🥺💔

Chapter 213

Look how thigh those shirts are hehehoho 🥴

OYXITSITDITDLTD

Ooooh there goes my man Jyaku ready to kick some ASS

🥺😭💞

Baki really just forgot his mom eh, thought you were getting stronger for HER smh

Oh Jyaku vs Retsu? Nvm Jyaku i can only hope Retsu is nice w you

I like how most are like, confused over who to cheer for lmao

I know he won't make it but I'm cheering for Jyaku btw i like him more <33

Chapter 214

Love that title, can't believe Jyaku is gonna ask Retsu out 😍 /j

He really is just honest Igari

I love that he apologizes

Chapter 215

OJFOYDITDISTOTDG

HIS FACEEE THIS FUCKING CLOWN 😭😭😭

THIS IS JUST SO FUCKING FUNNY

Chapter 216

Burgir

GHZJDUDDRHD THEY ARE SOOO MAD

That smile so cute...

Jyaku is a king

Love it when Retsu throws that pose, though y'all know why

HDGSSGSGF you are coming to Japan wether you like it or not 🔫

Chapter 217

Finally Jyaku got serious too

WITH HIS TOES 😭

King is just obsessed i luv him

HEHE HAIRY LEGS

It does seem like Jyaku is trynna confess his love jfnshdshdf

Chapter 218

I remember i almost laugh cry with my dad when we saw this

His damn beard... 💔

THE HAND OF THE TRAITOR

He has a good point

They be calling my man Jyaku a masochist noooo yfjdhdgs

Chapter 219

Okay seems kinda into it <:/

Old man? He doesn't look that old Baki :/

That was so smart 🥺

Chapter 220

Retsu calm down please you are gonna break his back

Oh my god Retsu, oh my god.

He did apologize at least

Chapter 221

Damn dude be a little more gentle with him

Oh, get was picking him up, okay

FR FR

🥺🥺🥺

FARHDHDYFTH THE KINGGG

Chapter 222

I love how everyone completed him (except Yujiro but not surprising), these warriors are such a good team

I want to eat an apple too now

That was fast

I got distracted watching a vsauce react video sorry

Okay I'm glad a comment actually mentioned Sik

Chapter 223

Had to take a uh idk 5 hour break bc lights went out :/

Feet be fuming lmao

Ohhh that's a cool analysis

Chapter 224

What a good punch

That "please",,,

Poor Li man, having to see his brother DIE /j

No, Viêt Long, i have not been hit by a truck before.

Chapter 225

It's so funny how Jyaku lost bc he fought a main charac and only those win

Sad day for the Chinese citizens

Mf got tits in his back

This is gonna be so goodddd

Chapter 226

Look at the size of his tits, the slut

INSTAGRAM INFLUENCER POSE WOOO

These two are cool fighters

Chapter 227

Old man showing skin

His smile is so fucked up lmao

Chapter 228

Baki what the FUCK are you wearing?

I just remembered when Hana did a flip, that was so good

Retsu babey 🥺

I love how confused Yujiro looks

Chapter 229

Hey, i recognize that name...

Kaku just too op

Yujiro you are gonna pop your testicles if you do that with your leg

Chapter 230

God that's such a good threat

Love Retsu's confusion

Damn bitch you saying we gotta keep up w this whore cuz you were too slow? Ffs Kaku 😢

I love when you can tell someone is still hanging around just quietly by seeing their response in a comment

Chapter 231

God this just feels so good, to see Yujiro actually scared 😍

YOOO THAT'S POG

Chapter 232

I wanna finish this book and start the next one grrr

This fight is so satisfying

That last bit is so cringe but whatever that's okay

Fight so controversial comments were deactivated

Chapter 233

Itagaki hincha de boquita el más grande? 😳 /j

Okay yeah it IS just rude

Hohoooo shit getting nice

Chapter 234

This asshole lmao

Yuji-chan really went "how many times do i have to teach you this lesson, old man?!"

Mfs be doing Jojo references in the comments lol

Chapter 235

GTFO WITH THAT LOGIC RETSU IM SORRY CHINA IS LOSING BUT GET LOSTTTT AJSGAJGS

Ffs Kaku you are doomed 😢💔

Yujiro so strong my mouse disconnected

Chapter 236

Abs in his back...

Crying and shaking that is NOT true

DON'T FEED HIS EGO, KAKU

LIONS CAN BE KILLED BY TIGERS TOO!!!!

I thought Yujiro was bleeding for a second there smh

Chapter 237

OKAY YEAH IT IS HIS BLOOD ITS COMING OUT OF HIS NOSE ITS NOT MUCH BUT HE BLED

THE HEAD APPLAUSE

HE'S SO UPSET LMAOOO

Yujiro surprised is good shit

GSJDUFTHSTD

KAKU YOU LEGEND LMAO

Kaku has boyboss energy

Chapter 239

This cover almost gives me a stroke

I love how they all just shat their pants

These minor Chinese characters were so good tbh, sadly i don't think they will ever return

Don't worry Retsu, we the viewers have seen a man revive before

King i don't think any of us understands

It really is

CAN MEN IN THIS FRANCHISE JUST OPEN BOTTLES REGULARLY?!

Oh my god i though Yujiro was sitting on the air for a second i almost cry 😭

Coca cola must have paid Itagaki /j

Chapter 240

Oh so the Kaioh part takes the name, not the surname

...is Yujiro wearing a floral shirt? 😭

I LOVE THAT ENDING SO MUCH 🥺😭

Jyaku has his eyes fixated on Retsu eh, proud of having him come to Japan lmao

Chapter 241

HORRIBLE fit Baki

CHILDHOOD SAGA PART 2? 😰

Jk though i do miss Yuri 🥺

Oh hey Jr

You gonna fuck his girl, bro?

Chapter 242

So straight forward lmao

I'm starting to appreciate Baki's feminist ass every day even more

AAAA GRANDPAAA 🥺🥺💞

This page didn't allow me to call two mfs virgins smh, 1984

Chapter 243

Grandpa they shrunk you

Chapter 244

Kings idc about this

Okay true but also he's 70 dude pls... Though idk if this guy will go thru worse than Jack lmao

Such a nice lad

Chapter 245

Baki being such a feminist icon is so meaningful considering how his parents were,,,

MY MAN IS BACKKK AND AS DAPPER AS EVER

Doppo he's called Ali Jr how are you surprised?

OH MY GOD I JUST REALIZED HIS EYE PATCH HAS A PATTERN THAT'S SO COOL 🥺🥺😢💞

These men love throwing their glasses eh

Chapter 246

If only Igari and Toba had done this lol

OKAY THATS COOL I LIKE THAT

Me lo re devaluaron a mí pelado eh

HEHE OOOOH NICE 😳

Scenes that give me a boner

CHU...

Such a good callback...

Chapter 247

My man got serious, sweet

Doppo has been trying out his luck a bit too much like he's been betting with his life an uncomfortable lot like king do you need to talk? Are you okay? First asking Gouki to kill him now this like, is everything alright Doppo?

YEAH A BIT FUCKED UP TO THINK ABOUT

I love that blocking technique

OSHWOWHIWWH "gay ass Orochi, out of option so he touching dick" SHUT UPPP 😭😭💀

I really wish he got kicked in the nuts again see if he's still using his technique

Chapter 248

Poor guys thought he was bout to get murdered

A kiss? 😏 /j

When i saw this in the anime i actually thought Orochi was going to die, i was gonna get sooo angry

Chapter 249

What a way to cockblock em

Feminist icon

Jack is that the only sweater you own?

Chapter 250

I have been thinking of that scene of him eating the whole steak a lot

Jr like 🥺

Imagine being stupid enough to tease Jack like, i get he defeated two masters but they are NOTHING compared to this monster

Imagine jack just smoked some weed right there lmao

Jack needs to bite people more

Chapter 251

My shitty ass son gave me parkinson's

Jack that's not how human anatomy works what the fuck did Kureha do to your body spine?

Chapter 252

DAMN JR WHAT A FAT ASS

Looked like Jack was going for a handful

Those techniques must fuck your neck up so bad

Okay Jack you are going a bit far now don't cha think?

Chapter 253

You are tempting your luck sunny boy

Look at that, you pissed him off!

You cannot just know out jack hanma bro

HHH

This was so stupid yet, unironically, iconic

Chapter 254

Bruh i thought it said Pog 😭, ain't manslaughter poggers Mr Hanma?

OKAY THANKS JACK

Such a simp he downed that coffee cup

Grandpa put here cockblocking

Chapter 255

"no he didn't >:/"

These two masters are a pair of fucking idiots like understand this i love my grandpa and i love my man but mfs have to take the L for this one time sksgwjgshgw

Gouki bro my senses gonna shut down if you put your sucks against the dirt again OUGH sensory hell 😭

FOR FUCKING REAL JR

STOP ENABLING THE OLD MAN!! WKSGKSGSJSHDD for once I'm on Viêt's side 😭

Chapter 256

Hoho Gouki out here getting a panty shot 😳

Grandpa i love you but this was unnecessary

Chapter 257

Kozue should wear a Korn tshirt

GET HIS ASS KOZUE

OWHWLWGISGSJWG 😭😭 MF JUST STANDING THERE LIKE A FREAK I LOVE HIM BUT I HATE HIM SM!!!

Love how consistently round his hands are, king got no knuckles

HEY DONT CALL MY MAN A FREAK KOZUE

King hasn't changed his clothes ever since i see

His shoes look so nice...

OKAY OKAY HE HAS A POINT AT LEAST, HE AT LEAST ACCEPTED HE LOST BUT HE'S STILL BUTTHURT FROM IT SKSGAJGS BUT HE ADMITS IT!!

Doppo i love you but shut UPPP you lost get over it!! You are just going for the rematch bc you have the higher ground against a injured guy!!! Like Shibukawa didn't have time but you were already getting serious!! Hhhgrrrrrr doppo i love you but I'm going to bark

Hehe nvm he still hella fine... keep talking king 🥴

This was so mean of him sjsgwjwg

Chapter 258

Low-key starting to believe these two mfs plotted against Jr sjshsj

THAT FACE AKSGWJGS just 😐

If i didn't know you would get your ass handed in a plate i would be a lil mad he's planning on being that savage

He has been thru worse, sunny boy

Niceee

Tbh. I don't care anymore. Doppo is in the wrong, but GOD I'm a simp and i love seeing him fight 😍😍🥴

Yeah a comment mentioned it, we all were on Jr side until he threatened to kill Doppo Orochi like, even if not everyone here is as horny as me we all like an og fella

I also love how the prisoners really changed them all, the scars (both physical and mental) those 5 left will be remembered lol

[colorseeingchick]

We talked about this already, so here I am making my humble request to be matched up with a demon slayer boy....

I would include more information here but you know who I actually am 😤

(And I do wanna say congrats on 200!! Ily💕💕)

IS THIS??? MY BETA READER??? BLESSING MY ASKBOX???

You’ve subjected yourself to a hell you cannot escape. I’m so very excited to match you up with a boy I know little about from a fandom you know NOTHING about 🤩 I match you with….

Sanemi Shinazugawa

Now you might be asking, “En, why did you match me with this man?” well, there a couple of reasons. The first one is because you told me a few hours ago “as long as you don’t match me with the odd boar man, it’ll be okay.” While I do think the boar man is your soulmate, Sanemi is another good fit. Sanemi and you would have a wonderful banter established with a lot of play fighting but also a lot of support. Y’all are the types to be strong enough to deal with each other’s bs - and if that’s not love I don’t know what is.

Note to anyone who chooses to read this matchup :know that this shouldn’t be taken seriously LMAO I'm an anime only and know little of Sanemi so far! But I love him SO MUCH AHHH

Also shoutout @hoebirama7 for helping me learn about Sanemi more!

You’d meet Sanemi at the main estate where the head of the demon slayers live. Let’s say you were a demon slayer who was travelling with the main characters, Tanjiro, Nezuko, Zenitsu, and Inosuke (the boar man). You’d get pulled to the main estate with them. When there, you heard about how Sanemi did some crazy things to your little friend Nezuko (just like, stabbing her in front of her brother) and you were like “that’s so much.”

Your next thought was “who the fuck does this man think he is?” From there you swore you’d hate him and you’d square up with him on SIGHT. You were ready to throw verbal insults when you saw him.

He was casually in the Butterfly Estate (where you and the boys were resting to recover) and when you saw him, you just gave him a lookTM. He obviously didn’t take well to being sassed with his eyes, so he asked if you had a problem. And he was surprised when you said yes, said “You’re an ass,” and then you walked away. His eyes went wide and he was ready to throw a sarcastic comment back but you were already gone.

The next time he and you met was in the midst of battle. You were holding off a bunch of demons but accidentally injured your ankle, leaving you in the path of danger. That was when he came swinging in, taking all the demons out, and went to pick you up.

“Do I seem like some damsel in distress to you? I don’t need saving!”

“You don’t? Fine then.” He drops you (yes drops you) and walks away. Out of nowhere, another demon charges in to attack you, and while you prepare for the worst, the demon is beheaded before you realize it.

“Be stubborn later.” He picked you up and smirked a bit as you make a face but don’t reject his offer.

You met him a few days later, once again at the Butterfly Estate while you were healing up. But this time when you passed by him, you stopped him and said, “Hey, I just wanna say I do appreciate you saving me.”

“That’s not what you said the first time we met.”

“Well I still think you’re an ass.”

He scoffed, “Next time I’ll leave you to the demons,” before storming off again.

While you weren’t hesitant to tell him off to his face, you had to admit you did appreciate his muscles the way he saved you. So maybe you could be a little bit nicer to him. Only a little.

He heard of you next when he got a message that his brother was hurt and saved by another member of the corps - that member being you. He contemplated sending his messenger crow to thank you, but then he decided it was a weird thing to want to do, so he just went to go visit his healing brother. Luckily for him, you were there again.

“Are you always injured or…?” He asked when he saw you.

“Funny, because you’re here every time I am too, SO-”

“Brother, are you flirting?”

“Why the fuck are you out of bed? You were weak enough to get injured, and now you have the guts to talk back? Idiot.” Sanemi ripped into his younger brother on the spot before storming off. You ran into him later, and asked him about it. You saw what was going on.

“You care for him, you can admit that, right?”

“What?” He was taken aback.

“I’m the same way with my brothers -except, well, I’m not as… rough I guess. But all little brothers are dumb. But I know you do that outta love.”

You gave a small smile before leaving him be.

Let’s just say you left him a little shocked. He didn’t expect for someone to get it (even if you were skeptical of his method).

You two then got close when you were deployed on the same mission. It was full of a lot of back and forth ‘fighting’ which was banter. But you both agreed you loved hating on Giyuu (the love of my life who you said had a long face >:( ) and it was an odd bonding point for you two.

You found yourself becoming fond of the explosive and skilled man. And as he spent more time with you, listened to your random stories, and realized he saw eye to eye with you (even though you were better at expressing your thoughts), he developed a soft spot for you.

Settling down as a demon slayer was a tough thing to do. And yet, as he finished his mission with you, he realized he didn’t want you to be in anymore danger - and that he’d like to protect you as well.

He wouldn’t really ask you out. Like, it was such an odd thing for him to do. But when another demon slayer was being very flirty with you, he found himself getting ready to fight. Luckily you beat him to the punch by turning down the man.

He asked you why you did.

“Wasn’t interested in being with him.”

“...What about me? Are you, uh… interested in being with me?” He wasn’t used to saying stuff like that at ALLLL.

You’d look at him and go, “I’ll give it a go.”

In a relationship, Sanemi would find you to be surprisingly supportive. You were so good at validating his feelings and actions ( you were his lovely enabler). But you weren’t afraid to question his impulsive decisions, and he came to respect that, too. You were a respectable partner.

You on the other hand would probably appreciate the care he has to give. While he wasn’t a himbo, he had the heart of one. He was surprisingly caring, good at remembering small details, and very observant of your state of being. Though he would never say anything, he’d show it all through his actions. He’d bring you your favorite food, and would always listen to all your crazy mission stories.

He’d even manage to go with you to one of the sports events of the time. Though he didn’t know what was going on, he loved the way your face lit up when you were angry at the players, engaging with the plays, and just overall so lively. He thought it was so fun to see that side of you.

He’d also open up to you about his relationship with his brother. While it was tough, he enjoyed knowing you had his back and continued to share with you. You were a good listener.

When on longer missions apart, you’d send your crows to send updates to one another just to make sure the other was okay.

All in all y’all have a funny banter filled relationship that also was very supportive and soft. It may have started off with you two being enemies, but it ends with lovers HEHE my favorite

Just what you deserve :D

~~~

THis is what you asked for Ma'am but I also asked you to send one so I hope you don't hate me indefinitely after this pls continue to beta read my anime content THANK YOUUUU

[marcsmarquez]

How do you deal with the Marc hate online especially since rossi is retiring all i can see is “rossi is the goat marc is actually shit” aghh im so done with rossi retiring just LEAVE like he didn’t win a single title since marc joined im also mad he talked shit about marc so often rossi was great definitely but marc is superior i cant wait marc to have more world championships than rossi

Sorry for the rant literally noone i know watches motogp or understands my love for marc

oh bestie i feel you :(( not going to lie it used to really really bother me but now i am kinda used to the hate? the more hes on top, the more people hate, and the more people hate, the better is he likely doing.

all of last year his instagram comments were fully of “i hope you come back crash again and d**” “i wish you broke yourself sooner” and other horrible things like that. it broke my heart knowing that he was struggling at home both physically and emotionally and there were people saying stuff like this.

at the end of the day i feel like those comments just come from a dispicable place of jealousy. the man is darn good at what he does, even with a broken arm he’s faster than half the field. people are mad and he stays winning and thats all that matters.

as for rossi, my own father is a huge italian rossi stan and every weekend he texts me to tell me marc is the scum of the earth and deserves to be banned for life which is just so sweet!!! i am sick and tired of the rossi dude bros and of how rossi has enabled this behavior for years. i could go on and on about this (and happy to dm if you want) but i don’t want to piss off all my followers lol but yeah marc is ALWAYS in their mouth. nothing he does will ever be okay in their eyes. listen im not saying marc is perfect or without faults, but like if the world went accoring to rossi, marc would be a felon with a long ass criminal history, which is just a tad extreme. ALSO they live in whatever made up scenario they have created about 2015 cause they have no actual good reality to cling to, it’s sad!!

as for the goat debate, reasonable people can disagree, and i am obviously biased, but pretending marc isnt up there after having won 8 world championships in 10 years is a tad idiotic. marc already owns so many motogp records and hemd gonna break many more, but apparently he’s too old and will only fail from here on out? and yet these same people still somehow believe that vale could have won his 10th at 40??? hypocritical much??

anyway, i am so grateful that marc is so mentally strong and has a good group of people around him. i cannot wait for him to get back to smiling on the podium every week again because he deserves the world and more.

[myuntoldstory]

saeran after end after thought

it took me a ducking month and some change because i had to farm hourglasses. when i started playing i kept getting the bad ends and i got so frustrated i didn’t touch the app for two weeks. i had to consult a guide to finally reach the end.

i wanted to play this because i needed to see where jihyun ended up and... well... we all know what happened there. anyway...

i have many thoughts and feelings about this ae. i don’t know if i can ever properly organise them, but i’ll put it in bullet points for now. this is my personal feelings, not any kind of fact. i have nothing against nearly anything and anyone (character or real) involved in this game. i’ll always love and appreciate them for being in this game, for creating this game, for giving us something to love for the past four or five years.

these thoughts are rather unfiltered. this is me coming out hours after finishing the ae. i might change my mind after letting it marinate for a while and after reading up some more about it.

it’s all under the cut. it’s long and rambling. there’s no need to read this, really; the ae is a month old after all, but i just needed to get this out. also, it’s salty as hell. literally saltier than the dead sea. it will dehydrate you... best to not bother with this.

also spoilers.

1. during the first playthrough the game mechanics were wonderful, novel, and immersive. but years later and for the sake of an ae? unnecessary. it’s too long. it’s too much work. i did my due when i played the game during ray’s route. why do i also have to work for something that should have been my reward? why do i still have to worry about hearts, choices, and game branches? why do i have to go through multiple endings? it’s an after end. it’s after the ending.

of course i love new content, i love more content, but not like this. and i know i sound super entitled. if i was impatient i should have justt read the wiki, but i wanted the experience, but not this specific experience. lucky it’s the pandemic and i have more time on my hands, but in normal circumstances my life is very different from what it was in 2016. i can’t be waiting for chats and making plans around it to get to the after ending. honestly i expected something like the secret ends or even similar to the style of jihyun’s ae... but no. apparently, chertiz thinks it’s fun to make us spend three and a half days to reach an AFTER END.

2. saeran choi needs love... but, in my opinion, not ours. not mc’s. the love he needs is his brother’s. the person he needs most is saeyoung choi. he’s suffered so much, endured many things no person should ever endure. of course he deserves romantic love, but i feel like he needed to recover first. that’s why after all this im firmly in the very bare, maybe even empty camp of preferring secret end saeran choi over ray route saeran choi.

3. never in my life has a game made me exhausted about the act of forgiveness. i feel a little sick. it’s terrible to say that, i know, but i am just so emotionally exhausted. there is this heavy feeling in my chest that makes me want to cry because i feel like i somehow destroyed a part of myself?

first it’s the saviour in jihyun’s ae. it’s still her in this ae. but in addition to that there’s also the prime minister? when does it stop? at this point we might as well forgive the twins’ mother too. she imprisoned her own sons to benefit from their father; beat the shit out of and starved saeran to the point that he wanted to die, but there must be a reason behind it, right? like all the villains in this game her choices are not her own; they are the product of their circumstances and we have to understand that.

i just... i understand what cheritz is trying to convey here. and granted saeyoung is not as forgiving, but this isn’t his story. it felt like the forgiveness was nearing some extreme by the end of it. i don’t think there’s anything wrong if you’e unable to forgive. if the only way for you to move forward is to not do so i feel that’s valid. as long as you’re not hurting anyone and that you’re not hurting yourself, you do whatever you need to recover. forgiving is not the only way, the noble way. not everyone’s backstory you have to understand and take into consideration in order to move on. even if they realise what they did was wrong, it’s okay not to forgive. sometimes that’s what we need to take care of ourselves.

im rambling on this point, but im going through this currently. it’s not as extreme as the choi twins or the rfa, but all my life i’ve been forgiving and understanding and it chipped away at me. even at my expense i forgave everything and it landed me in a place im struggling to get out of. i needed justice and this ae didn’t give me a bit of that... at least not in the way i needed.

4. cheritz said this is the grand finale, but... it didn’t feel like it? again this is me being entitled, but i expected something more. something bigger. something poignant because after this mystic messenger is over. i expected some kind of epilogues in the form of story modes. of course i appreciate everything the company has done, especially the efforts of the writers, artists, voice actors, and everyone, but... it’s so rushed? it such a short farewell that instead of getting catharsis and satisfaction i felt... drained. and i feel sad that it’s all over because im not ready to say goodbye and that goodbye is far too short for me.

i don’t know im just sad it’s all over.

also, the conclusion they come to is the dissolution of the rfa once everyone found their happy ending. i... this is a group that has been through some shit and that doesn’t make them closer somehow? the rfa app lies neglected and abandoned as everyone moves on with their lives? that is so... lonely? at least for me.

i mean, of course, not all endings have to be necessarily happy in the “everyone gets together once a week for dinners” kind, but i just... i dont know i expected them to be closer somehow. maybe they are. maybe outside the app they’re all closer, but... i don’t know. i feel sad they’re abandoning the app.

5. and then there’s kim jihyun.

and im... i dont know anymore. if you know me, follow me, or have read any of my fics you know im a jihyun fan. i love that man and YES i know his sins. we all do.

as i played the ae i started to hope that he’d die in the end instead of suffering through this egregious character assassination. yes, i literally preferred that he died and that i go through that pain instead of suffering whatever this is. obviously i dont want him to die, but this is like killing him anyway. they killed the essence of him, who he is as a person. hell, they probably killed him already and just installed a stranger in the ae because that v is not our v. all throughout the game he’s been kind and compassionate and selfless. his whole thing is about protecting the rfa, the mc, saving the saviour, and sacrificing himself for them. this is the idiot who gives you his hearts when you’re being actively nice to his abuser and saeran in his route. his ultimate happy ending involves everyone being happy, reunited, and given the proper mental care. he went away for two years, putting a much needed pause in your budding relationship, not only to recover from his trauma, but also to rescue saeran and help him recover too.

yes, v enabled the saviour even before another story. he lied. he put everyone in danger. he’s reckless and he keeps secrets way more than what’s natural. but he will never let any of them come to harm. my memory is fuzzy but im sure he never lets the rfa get in danger. he was devastated when yoosung got injured. he also tried to rescue seven and mc in the secret ends thats why he got shot. this guy always looks out for everyone.��

in what world is he okay with drugging the twins? making deals with the villains? the idea of trapping the twins in the saviour’s delusional, twisted family life? he’s not the type to be okay just standing there when his best friend’s life is falling apart or for even causing it. when zen, jaehee, and yoosung get backed into the corner he wouldn’t have been just idle. but in this ae all he does is play stacking chairs, buy strawberry yoghurt, and echo the saviour’s words like a puppet. he asks only mc to save herself and like... jesus christ he never gets a break. he doesn’t even get the same gesture of forgiveness everyone and their father gets. he goes through a trial and jail, which is fair enough, but he’s also a victim of abuse and suffering and despair and mental illness. but somehow because it’s v it’s okay that this is all he gets. somehow he doesn’t deserve any compassionate resolution.

literally the only time he’s happy is his route and after end and even then that happiness is not his own. even then there were concessions to be made before he could get it.

seriously. it seems like cheritz hates him. they think little to nothing of him. if that’s the case why even make content for him? he’s not even meant to be romanceable in the original stories. they could’ve just ignored the petitions and left him as a side character. i mean, i dont know if i prefer that honestly, i do appreciate the content we got, but as his fan it hurts to see all this half-hearted decisions. and to see all this hate still pouring out for him, now magnified because of this ae.

this is like a tiring odyssey, starting way back when he got shot and killed all because he loved someone. he loved the wrong person and it’s the wrong kind of love and he committed his crimes because of it. he had a hand in making the rfa and mc suffer, but still all he did was love. and i know that sounds blind and naive and ignorant and im sorry for not picking up the nuances of his relationship with the saviour, but that’s all i saw. i saw a guy loving the wrong person and it made him make all the wrong choices leading to a bad life.

gah. i am drained people. i am drained, and frustrated, and tired.

[aria-i-adagio]

Did either of them try to resist their feelings? Who whispers inappropriate things in the other’s ear? What are their primary love languages? Who’s the better cook? (for Handers!) - the-iron-orchid

Thank you, @the-iron-orchid!

Who whispers inappropriate things in the other’s ear?

Oh, Anders is definitely the one whispering the inappropriate things in Hawke’s ear. He is the id of this relationship after all.

Not that Hawke is complaining.

What are their primary love languages?

I always have to stop and look up the whole love languages thing. Kinda like enneagram numbers. Cultivating a deliberate agnosis for my own nefarious reasons.

Anders and Adrian are both touch starved cuddlebugs, and Adrian rates very high on giving acts of service.

[Realizing that all my OCs/canon characters I project too much onto are touch starved cuddlebugs... hmm... anyone want to come snuggle and let me make you delicious food and baked goods? I am a very good cook.]

Who’s the better cook?

I - in my infinite wisdom and mercy as a writer - determined that fugitive Anders needed a hobby, and I gave him a cookbook to play around with while in hiding. As of the present moment in my personal little world state, our recovering ascetic is well on his way to becoming a decent, if somewhat rustic, chef. He has also perfected moonshine and if Hawke ever gets his chickens, Anders is definitely going to start aging the stuff

Adrian can scramble eggs and make coffee. But he has to make coffee before trying to toast bread, or he burns it.

Did either of them try to resist their feelings?

Did either of them try to resist their feelings? No, of course not, not for three years of Isabela having to watch them pining. Oh no. Definitely not.

This is begging me to just post the first chapter of Risk. The truly naughty bits are in chapter two and you’ll have to go to the AO3 for those. And then tell me if I should finish futzing with the half-drafted and half daft chapter three.

---

Hawke doesn't know where Varric found this particular tabletop game. Not that it matters, he's thoroughly enjoying the premise of guiding pewter toy soldiers through taking over one region of Thedas at a time. Isabela seems less enchanted, complaining that the rules are attached against her because if she just had a navy, and isn't it cheating that Hawke and Anders have formed a truce with each other to wipe her off the map.

Varric laughs and shrugs off her complaint. "Strategy is strategy."

"What truce?" Adrian smiles innocently enough; although under the table, Anders' left hand has been gradually moving up his thigh. "We haven't discussed anything with each other."

"Nope, nothing." Anders drinks from his third - or fourth pint of beer - Justice must be giving him the night off from the no drunkenness rule. That happens sometimes, when Hawke is lucky "Just roll the dice, 'Bela."

"Sure, boys, no special code you're tapping out with your feet ?" She's down to two units in a region Hawke is attacking with ten. Anders has the region on the other side of hers and wore her down on his prior turn, stopping without taking the region or overly weakening his own position.

Varric crosses his arms and leans back in his chair. "I'm planning to enjoy what happens when they have to turn on each other."

"Oh yes." Isabela picks up her dice and shakes them in her hand. "Who will come out on top? A scintillating question. Drat!" Her roll turns up snake eyes to Hawke's mediocre four, three, and two. "Anders, if I find out you've cursed these dice -"

"We're not even playing for money, 'Bela."

"Yeah, yeah -" She clears her soldiers from the region. "Just honor. It's all yours, sweetling."

"You've still got half of Orlais and the Frostback Basin. You're hardly out."

She smirks and gestures to one of the barmaids for another pitcher. "Aye, and the longer I keep those the longer it's going to take for you two to solve that question of who's going to be on top."

Merrill is barely hanging on to Seheron and a random province in Tevinter. "Oh, I think Anders has the stronger position, he's basically got Hawke's armies surrounded."

Anders hides a blush behind another drink. Varric snorts and Isabela sighs. "Kitten, that's not quite what we're talking about. And you -" She points a finger at Anders like she's reprimanding a sailor. "Are hardly a blushing virgin."

Hawke just shifts his weight a bit, nudging Anders' thigh with his knee. Keep going. He can't actually move his own hand quick enough under the table to slide Anders' fingers further around and up without Isabela noticing. But she's going to give them grief no matter what.

"Well, what are you talking about then?"

"The eventual conclusion to a most drawn out case of two idiots pining after each other."

"What does that have to do with who wins the game?"

"It's a metaphor, Daisy. Not a very good one."

"Does it have something to do with sex? I'm always missing the ones that have to do with sex."

Anders chokes on his beer. Hawke pats his back, then leaves his hand there just above his belt. The Hanged Man is warm tonight, the feathery jacket is hanging on the wall, and Hawke can feel Anders' spine through the written out fabric of his shirt.

"I should make a hand where I can see 'em rule," Isabela grouses. "No idea what little card tricks you boys are up to over there."

"What?" Hawke walks his fingers up Anders' back and wonders how much longer he can stand Anders' fingers tracing spirals over the inside of his thigh before he just throws the game, grabs Anders' by the collar and kisses and/or shakes him until he's forgotten whatever protests he prepared about this not being a good idea, Anders is a dangerous person to be with, Hawke doesn't really know him, et cetera, et cetera. "I would never try to cheat. At least, not with you."

Merrill actually wins the game after patiently building up a massive number of armies in Seheron and sweeping through all of Thedas in a single turn. Never forget to keep an eye on the quiet ones. She smiles prettily as Varric and Hawke start picking up the pieces of the game, and then asks Isabela again if she'll explain the metaphor.

Isabela lays her head down on the table with a groan. "I need more alcohol for this."

Varric, being Varric, chuckles and then enables, ordering another two pitchers for the table.

Hawke gives up any pretense of coyness during Isabela's tutoring session and sits sideways on the bench with his back against the wall and his legs over Anders' lap, giggling as Isabela makes increasingly vulgar gestures with her hands and then steals Varric's notebook and ink to improvise illustrations. She's not a very good artist.

Merrill's wide eyes get wider. "Oh, oh. But -" She blinks rapidly. "What if it's two women?"

"Well, it's kind of a loose metaphor anyway, to be entirely honest." Isabela changes around how she's holding her hands again. "You see not everything comes down to insertions."

"Andraste's knicker weasels, 'Bela!"

"Knickers can be involved or not. Weasels, well, at least the animal type are less common. Now, the Chantry only talks about Andraste's husbands, but I heard this one -"

"You're going to confuse her even more." Anders moves Hawke's legs out of his lap and leans over the table. "It's simple Merrill. In sex, some people really prefer to get, some people really prefer to give, and most people are somewhere in the middle and like doing a bit both. And then you have Isabela, who likes to tease."

"Guilty as charged. In bed and out."

"What does that have to do with a board game though?"

Hawke laughs. Anders covers his face with both hands. "Oh, Maker. I'm done here. And this is as much of an answer as you're getting, 'Bela." He turns toward Hawke, who isn't expecting and had only cautiously been hoping to be grabbed by the shoulders and kissed on the mouth and thus, very nearly loses his balance when he is. He's quick enough to topple toward Anders instead of over the table, steading himself with hands at Anders' skinny waist, and kissing him back before the moment can be lost.

"Finally!" Isabela applauds. "I thought I was going to have to spend the night with Hawke, which would be terribly awkward as he doesn't like women."

Hawke raises a middle finger in her general direction and earns a delighted cackle.

"But Hawke spends a lot of time with you, and me, and even Aveline. We're women?"

Varric pours more beer for himself and Merrill. "That's, um, not at all what she means, Daisy."

Anders rolls his eyes. He stands up and pulls Hawke with him. "Your place or mine is a stupid question, isn't it?"

"A very stupid question." Hawke grabs their jackets off the wall. Honestly, right now, either would do, but it's about the same distance and Hawke has a significantly nice bed. If they make it that far.

"I expect a full report in the morning, Hawke," Isabela shouts as they're walking out. "Might have bets riding on it."

"Fuck you, 'Bela." Hawke says with a glance back over his shoulder and a broad smile. He's closer to amused than annoyed. She had quite effectively forced Anders' hand in the little game he and Hawke had been playing for weeks. Maybe overdone it, but she'd done it. Isabela winks and flashes him two thumbs up before making a 'get going now' gesture.

"No, you won't. Don't forget the electricity thing."

"The electricity thing? Is that another metaphor?"

"Goodnight, Merrill."