#which isn’t exactly the same as twink……. but still
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i've been very far home, my heart | nightowl (blooming panic)
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ tags; established relationship, hurt/comfort, feelings of inadequacy / low self worth, gn!reader (they wear heels and have manicured nails, but otherwise nondescript. no gendered language), role reversal, arguing / messy human behavior, suggestive towards the end, they are implied to be the same height 🫡
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ wc ; 3.7k (added 500 to wc in editing. ok)
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ a/n ; bro idk what happened here FDHJDKDKJ. my sleep meds were making me feel super hungover, i got a little cooked on the devils lettuce and then wrote this?? and it wasn't bad lmaoaoa??
i really like this blonde twink ive known for three days. he is like. so extremely, hilariously my type and exactly like several ppl i've dated so this end up being a reflective piece on being a giver n navigating adult relationships.
title is from where we go by jelani aryeh
The bathroom light is on.
It’s spilling underneath the door frame when you come in from work later than usual. It’s busy season, with new clientele - all of which require socializing around drinks and expensive dinners to secure them. It’s nearly 1am, and you’ve taken two Ubers to get back home from the restaurant all the way across town that you’ve been mingling at since nine.
You closed the deal though, and your boss (perhaps seeing the visible exhaustion in your eyes) has given you the go-ahead on taking a few days off. The consulting part of your financial advising job could wait until Monday, which was a relief to hear. You came home expecting Nightowl to be up. He’s always up this late, and when he is - he rarely limits himself to one room in the apartment. You have a routine to it. You sleep in the dark bedroom and Owl tries not to make so much noise as to wake you.
You texted him you’d be late, and he’d read it but didn’t reply. Too worn down to think anything of It at the time, you slept on two car rides rather irresponsibly and were unsure of what to feel when your apartment didn’t have any lights from the outside upon arrival. Youwalked in after that, wondering if your eyes had been playing tricks. But the house was still dark, both upstairs and down stairs - in the bedroom and in the office. The only place you could find any trace of life was in the bathroom.
You’ve only left your bag on the couch downstairs. Worry makes your brows furrow as you turn the door knob to your shared bathroom and walk in. The clinical scent of bleach is the first thing to grasp your senses, jolting you awake from the haze of steam and leftover buzz of alcohol.
You cough a little, and find Nightowl on the bathroom floor. There’s a bottle of peach soju on the counter, and a few open packets of developer and mixing bowls. Owl is drunk already you think, or at the very least tipsy, moreso than you. The hot blush on his skin makes you think he’s been at it for a while. You try not to monitor his liquor intake too much, but the concern you feel is immediate and not helped by where you find him.
His body is slumped against the gray wall closes to the tub, sitting on the tile with a different bottle in his hand. His phone is face down beside him and he’s not noticed you come in. Your frown deepens as your heels click slightly on the tile. Crouching down at the knee, you reach your hand out for his forehead. His skin is so hot it’s scorching. You sober up almost instantly.
Even in his inebriated state, he seems to recognize you. His smile is wide, but you don’t feel like it reaches his eyes.
“Oh, so you decided to come home after all!”
You smile sadly followed with a curt nod. “Sorry.”
“Don’t really see what the point is in you apologizing when you’ve already been so late,” He says jovial. You try not to let it sting. You remind yourself that he’s drunk and stifle a sigh again. “But welcome home!”
“Were you gonna bleach your hair?”
“Isn’t that obvious?”
“Yeah,” You reply, choosing to sigh that time. His lip wobbles a little and you try not to say anything more. “Do you want help?”
“Sure. Whatever.”
You mumble something about being right back and Nightowl hums in affirmation. A feeling washes over you. Bone-deep exhaustion crushing your lungs and making you wheeze when you step out of the bleach-scented bathroom. When you’re distance enough away that he won’t hear you - closer to your bedroom door, you breathe in and out, calming yourself down. After you feel more centered, you open your shared room door and take a stool from along the wall, bringing it with you into the bathroom. Nightowl doesn’t turn his head to look at you until you place it. Sharing a glance with each other, he gets up on his own and sits himself on the placed stool dramatically and you give him a weak smile through the mirror he doesn’t bother returning.
You’re quiet as you leave the door open a touch to make sure the steam doesn’t overheat you both. Shrugging off your suit jacket, you fold it and hang it on the towel racks behind you. You unbutton your sleeves and roll them into neat folds on both arms, and before digging into one of your bathroom drawers for plastic gloves. Sliding them onto your manicured fingers, you pick up the bowl of developer from the side of the counter and mix it using the provided brush until it’s all smooth.
Nightowl is unusually silent through the entire thing. If he weren’t fidgeting, you could barely tell he was there. It’s so difficult to see him that way. You try not to blame yourself too much.
“Gonna start,”
“Uh-huh,”
A longing passes over you in the warm, sterile air. The coolness from the A.C. in the rest of your apartment dries down the sheen of sweat your accumulated while out socializing. Your feet are killing you and your shoulders are aching and your lungs feel like you can’t get enough air out of them. That’s busy season for you. The price of your job with all of it’s stability and benefits is the annual stretch of months where you are so busy you feel like you are drowning.
It’s one thing to be so mind-numbingly busy when you’re single and only worried about not dying. Another though to have a partner waiting for you, who you love and would like to be with - who you’ve admittedly not done well in paying attention to. You’ve tried you think. Made some attempts, but it doesn’t feel good enough and it certainly isn’t enough for Nightowl. You know that, too. You look down at where your hands are applying the bleach, dazed - using only muscle memory to apply it to the roots and strands of his hair. You want to touch him. To press kisses into his spine, drunk and elated, and press your cheek to his shoulder and confess your undying love until he’s giggly all over again.
The thought of adoration soothes you. Makes you smile to yourself even amongst the unforgiving atmosphere. Nightowl doesn’t care for that, his face growing even more frustrated.
“Thought of something fun? Glad at least one of us is having a good time.”
Your eyes meet his in the mirror. He looks away when he sees how pained you look, and you shut your eyes trying not to react. “Sorry.”
“Stop saying that,” He frowns, though he seems more sad than you.
“S—“ You clear your throat and laugh humorlessly at yourself. “Okay,”
You go about your business. Many things cross your mind but you can’t wrangle your thoughts into anything cohesive enough to say. Your jaw tightens a little, like your mouth wants to practice syllables it can’t remember. The distraction of rubbing bleach into Nightowls roots is welcome. His hair is a lot healthier than it used to be, after a year of forcing him to use hair masks. You admire as you brush through the strands, and Nightowl seems to lost in his own thoughts to say anything in protest. He probably hates this silence more than you. He’s uncharacteristically stiff, and there’s no smalltalk to distract from the surroundings.
You’re not feeling well enough to try and remedy it. Allowing yourself to stonewall and sit in the discomfort is about as much as you can do to reach a hand to your relationship. You probably can’t make it better, but you can do your best not to make it any worse.
“All done,” You mumble, just loud enough for him to hear. You slide the gloves off and toss them into the trash “We should sober up before bed. Hangover before bed sounds awful. Did you,” You hiccup. “Want some?”
He doesn’t reply to you. You press your lips into a flat line, feeling somewhat sorrowful but ultimately resigned. “I’ll make some anyway. And set a timer too while I’m down there. Just, uh - join me. When you’re done here.”
Before you turn to leave, he grabs your wrist. You’re taken aback by the sudden gesture (though there’s not force in it), turning around to look at him. His face is red. Wet tears pool on the corners of his straight, black lashes. Blinking a few times in surprise, you reach your hand to wipe them from the corners. Muscle memory. You find your love for him defined that way. He doesn’t flinch away from the touch, at least.
“Don’t you have something to say to me,” He insists. You frown in genuine confusion, a sad smile pulling at your mouth.
“Thought you told me to stop saying sorry,” You repeat with no malice, smiling a little. “That’s all I’ve got though.”
His lower lip trembles again and you try not to laugh. “God. How could you be so. God.” He sniffles a little. “You could cuss me out. Or like, I dunno, just get mad in general. You’re supposed to be mad, I was,” He cuts himself off.
You laugh a little tiredly, bending down to press your forehead to his. The flush of his skin against your own makes your heart murmur his name. “I don’t have anything to say, my heart.” You assure, smiling. “We’re both pretty tired. But I have tomorrow off. Let’s cool off and talk tomorrow. “Okay?”
“Okay,” He says back, still simmering. “As long as you’re here tomorrow.”
Your heart stings. “For the next two days, promise. I’ll toss my work phone if you want.”
He cracks a smile like that. “Might have to take you up on that, cutie.”
The familiar nickname eases you a bit, making you laugh. “Whatever you want.”
__
Morning comes unyielding and indifferent, like always.
Sunlight filters through the curtains as your eyes peel open and try to get adjusted to the light. There’s a weight on top of you, and the sound of steady breath. Another heartbeat thumps alongside yours and before you can make much sense of it - you catch the freshly yellow blond roots of your lover as he lays on your chest.
You went to bed last night not even facing each other. The image of him reaching around for you in his sleep and ending up in your arms feels like divine intervention. You admire how perfectly he fits there. Your eyes trace of his features. Thick, straight brows, skin like light gold, a straight nose and full lips. The shock of blonde suits him strangely, makes the dark lines of his other features pop. It’s rare you get to look at him so closely, even more so lately.
The intimacy of his flaws makes your stomach flutter, texture in his skin and eyebags and all. You crane your neck to kiss his hairline and think about returning to sleep in the cocoon of warmth. The cradle of soothes you, makes your eyelids heavy with sleep again. You think it’d be nice to sleep in more, but you don’t want to squander anymore time with Nightowl. Shifting, you pry yourself away from his grasp and tuck him into blankets. You’ll wake him later.
You’re quiet as you tiptoe around the house and get your affairs in order. The bathroom first to shower and brush your teeth, then downstairs to start on breakfast. You take the ritual of it to calm down and ease the leftover nerves of your stomach. It was better to save any conversation for sobriety - so you don’t regret it. Still, you feel a fear lingering. A nagging voice in the back of your head as you flip pancakes and cut fruit and pour juice.
The eerie silence of Saturday morning pushes you to reflect. It’s rare you fight like this. Even more rare that Nightowl reverts to that kind of angriness, which is why you find you can’t get upset. Not even the sound of sizzling and frying can keep your mind from wandering.
Inadequacy is familiar. An old winter jacket, too sizes too small and ill-fitting but full of your own personhood. One of the things you and Nightowl bonded over a long time ago.
You did well in school, in college, made a career for yourself. It’s making up for the rest of you, you think.
At least you’re good at your job, even if the rest of you is not worth mentioning. The ghost of feeling like you are, in some basic and intrinsic way, not good enough likes to shake you every now and again. Not friend, nor partner. It’s not something you easily get rid of, despite how far you’ve grown past it. Or around it. Or ahead of it. Wherever you’ve ended up, occasions come that knock the feeling loose from your deepest memories. You work hard to cover for it.
You like to logic your way out of the guilt when you’ve poured so much into it and people drift. A self-fulfilling prophecy. Usually that works. Tuck your emotions into neat compartments, throw yourself further into your work, don’t drink too heavily or be alone with anyone for too long. Ignore everything, do it by yourself so you’re still worth something, wait until it’s over. Eventually it all comes to pass, and you come out of the other end alive - but alone.
You can’t do that anymore though. It’s hard to remember that. Isolation is no longer the answer, because there is someone (multiple people, really) who will feel lonely without you. Even if it’s unfathomable to you, even if it’s hard to remember. The consequences creep up like this, and your left with the emotional void of making a bad situation worse. Sorry is the only word you know. There are so many things to be sorry for.
You’re so lost in thought you burn a pancake and have to toss it. You also seem to miss the presence of another person in your shared space until Nightowl comes and wraps his arms around your shoulders. Turning the heat down, you shift to face him. He looks exhausted but he must’ve come down after washing up.
“You’re awake.”
“Mhm.” He says, still sleepy. A smile pulls at the corners of your mouth. “So are you. And you’re making me breakfast.”
You laugh. “I am. So, go sit down.” And then, a little more serious. “We have a lot to talk about but I’d rather do it on a full stomach.”
“We’re in an argument and you’re still taking care of me.” Sadness bleeds into his words.
You reply without skipping a beat, going back to the stove to pour some more batter. “Well, its not like I don’t love you anymore.”
There’s a long, long pause of silence that alarms you once you recognize it. Once you hear sniffling, you whip around again to see Nightowl weeping a little as he leans against the counter. Alarms go off in your head, once again turning the stove down. You wrap your arms around his waist loosely, bending down to get a closer look at him. He’s cover his face with his hands.
“Ugh,” His voice is thick and heavy. “Can you not be so nice and perfect and angelic? I’m trying really hard to be mad at you and I’m failing like a loser.”
You can tell there’s some sincerity in his words, though you ignore the first half of his statement. “I don’t want to make you feel bad.”
He pulls away then, looks at you incredulous. “You’re so,” His hands curl at your chest as you hug him slightly. You’re confused but don’t say anything. “God, you’re so frustrating.”
“Sorry,” You say apologetically. “Don’t mean to make you cry either. Feel like I’m going that a lot. We should really eat.”
“Don’t want to,” He whines a little as he says. “Just. I want to kiss and makeup already.”
You smile a little before humming.
“We should talk about it, then.”
Nightowl just nods, and you take that as permission to just go. You do your best to get the words out.
“I really love you,” You say first, and then sigh. Nightowl clings onto you tighter and listens instead of interjecting, which must mean he’s feeling serious. “And uhm, was already feeling bad about myself. And then I got busy which made it worse cause I couldn’t really you know… be there for you, so I ended up pulling away to figure it out alone and then got even busier. Which was isolating for you, and I’m sorry for that. It’s hard to like.. I dunno. Lean on you. On anyone.” You laugh a little. “Is that too vague?”
“It makes sense to me but…what were you feeling bad about, even?”
“Well I was busy before that, so I just felt shitty about being a bad partner to you. In general, don’t feel like I deserve you but then you know,” You sigh “It was shitty of me.”
“Are you kidding me?” He says. His face is twisted in a pout. “You’re seriously being all mopey ‘cause you think you’re a bad partner when you’re like… literally the best ever? Like, that I’ve ever had?”
You’re too surprised to say anything. “Is that not why were arguing?”
“I mean,” His frown deepens, and he presses his face against your chest. “Ugh. So embarrassing. I am upset because you’re so busy and we haven’t spent time together but that’s like… totally not your fault, yknow? I’m being super clingy and I was just… really lonely yesterday.”
“Sorry for making you feel lonely.”
“Stop apologizing or I’m gonna bite you, ‘kay cutie?” He says seriously. You relent with a worrisome smile and encourage him to keep going. “I was getting like… all pathetic. Cause I thought you didn’t want me anymore, didn’t even occur to me something was wrong. I’m so sorry about that, about all of it - god. I shouldn’t have lashed out on you. I hate that it still gets so bad when we've been together so long. I just missed you so fucking much. And I think so highly of you, I couldn’t help but be all torn up about the idea that you were pulling away cause you didn’t want me.”
“I do want you. I’m just surprised you want me sometimes.”
“You’re dumb,” He whispers with no bite at all. “That’s my line. You’re like literally perfect to me.”
“So we got in a fight ‘cause we needed to be with each other,” You say with a long pause, then laugh. “How silly.”
“Guess so,” He says back with a little frown. “Are we okay?”
“We’re okay,”
You share a brief moment of comfortable, understanding silence. It feels easier to breathe. Even though it’s messy and foolish, you love being with him. It makes you feel real and whole - wanted to be missed that much.
“I missed you too by the way,” You reply with utmost sincerity. “Only thing I thought of all night was how much I wanted to hold you.”
“You’re making me blush.” He says with a loopy little smile. “Y’mean that?”
“More than anything.” You reply. “I like being with you. I like taking care of you. I like that you’re needy and jealous and temperamental.”
“Stopppp,” He groans and you laugh aloud, leaning forward to place a kiss on his jaw. “Not that I hate being told what you like about me but it’s making my tummy flutter.”
“I like loving you,” You say with some finality. “I feel really shitty when I feel like I’m failing at it because I take pride in being good at that.”
“Jeez,” His face is bright pink when you pull away. “You shouldn’t think of yourself so little, yanno? Not that this is a surprise but yesterday I was like, totally acting awful to you. I really am sorry I let it get that bad, I was just really worked up. Even right now you make me so happy, it feels a little unfair to me. I want to be with you all the time. So sometimes when I can’t I just get like… awful. And stupid. And want to throw a bunch of dumb tantrums about it.”
You nod in understanding. “It did hurt my feelings but I really didn’t feel like it was undeserved.”
“It was totally undeserved!”
You crack a little smile. “Agree to disagree?”
He grabs your face with both hands, knocking your foreheads together. “It was undeserved, no take backs. I’m sorry I hurt you and always will be. Stop being so nitpicky about yourself, kay? I’m literally crazy about you.”
“Me too,” You crane your neck to kiss his palm where it cradles your face. “I adore you, baby.”
“I like being adored by you,” He says with a sweetness that makes your heart melt. “I like loving you too of course, but attention is… nice. You know.”
He makes a face at you as you say this that you can only describe as a grin, before pushing himself forward to press a long kiss to your lips. You laugh a little into, smile splitting your face at the intensity he kisses you at first thing in the morning. Over and over, pulling and pushing - giggling as you chase his mouth as he pulls away.
“We kissed but I dunno if we’ve made up,” He says. Concern briefly passes over your expression. “Got some really good ideas about how we could do that.”
You give him a flat look but can’t contain your laughter.
“We should really eat breakfast,”
He puts a hand at the top of your waistband with lidded eyes and smiles. “There’s something else I wanna eat first though?”
You pretend to be exasperated.
“Jesus. We just made-up and you wanna fuck already?”
“Duh. That’s like, the best part,”
You snort. “We’ll go once and then I’m making you eat breakfast even if I have to force it down your throat.”
“Ooh, feeling rough I see,”
You snort. “Yeah, guess so.” You shoot him a little look, leaning into whisper and nip at his ears. “On your knees for me, baby.”
He giggles a little, giddy with mischief in his face. “Mmkay,”
He presses a cheek to your clothed thigh, lovesick. “I love you,”
You can’t help but laugh at his choice of when to say it and simply reply back in full adoration. “I love you too, my heart.”
a/n ; ANOTHER AUTHORS NOTE? sorry for being the ceo of yapping im insane
i just want to like. give some insight on this fight bc im worried it seems onesided. reader has low self esteem and really beats themself over their own expectations in everything. they isolate when they're overwhelmed and work was already doing that to them. and then things got busier, which meant there wasn't really time to repair the relationship between them which is why nightowl gets as mad as he does.
nightowl is deathly afraid of being unloved and abandoned, and he get a little caught up in his self hate that they fail to realize something is going on with their partner. so he lashes it out and it feels warranted but he gets like guilty bc reader doesn't react to the goading any differently
i think nightowl is a very complicated but incredibly familiar character. he's a little selfish but i find him incredibly endearing and i have a strong desire to dote on him and monopolize him. which was the intent for this fic. but i ended up just exploring real life relationship dynamics between a character like this. very selfless x selfish. they love each other and find fulfillment in this. i love them.
#nightowl x reader#blooming panic x reader#bloomic x reader#nightowl bp x reader#writing tag#this is literally so random#idk what tag ettiquette is for this? bc the game is self insert so i feel like tagging with main tags is probs fine but its riskyyy lmao#nightowl blooming panic
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will u tell us more ab jigsquad adam immediately post bathroom please :~)
oh you're in luck i was talking about it with claire earlier today.
adam's survival in jigsquad was never part of anyone's plan, not originally. amanda makes the impulse decision to save him because she realises she can't bare to leave him to die so horribly when he doesn't deserve that fate, and because she knows it will secure lawrence's loyalty. mark goes along with it because he wants to anger john and dim amanda in his eyes (cringe! world's worst fridge shaped man agrees to save some greasy twink as part of his elaborate jigsaw legacy longcon but ends up remembering he has a heart instead.) adam gets dumped on lawrence's bed in the makeshift jigsaw warehouse hospital, half dead, and lawrence agrees to sign his life away if adam lives.
and adam does.
so adam wakes up in the warehouse hospital, and things are...bad. his arm fucking hurts and he doesn't know where he is but his instincts are telling him that it's dangerous, and it doesn't help that hoffman is on "keep an eye on adam" duty, so he's greeted by the sight of the world's most off putting man eating cold ravioli out of a can. he's not entirely convinced he's alive, and wonders if he's in hell or purgatory or some fucked up heaven, or just hallucinating back in that bathroom. he gets a few moments of happiness once he realises lawrence is with him, that he’s alive and they’re together even if they’re apparently still playing some twisted fucking game. but then lawrence admits the truth of the situation, that adam was saved so lawrence would become john’s apprentice, and adam really doesn’t take that revelation well. he freaks out, and they end up having to sedate him, and that sort of becomes the routine for a week.
because he is just. so scared. they won’t let him leave because they’re not sure if he’ll go to authorities and also he needs time to recuperate, but being in the warehouse and under the eye of john makes it hard for him to start his mental healing process. and because he keeps trying to escape or swing at them and fucking up his arm in the process so they have to keep him restrained, which isn’t good for adam given that the last time he was restrained he almost died in a decrepit bathroom. they’re sedating him constantly for his own well-being but he doesn’t see it that way, especially with john and amanda lurking around. hard to start your recovery process when the people who kidnapped and tortured you are always around.
they don’t really want to keep drugging him, if only because their sedative supply isn’t exactly never ending (mark’s perspective), but it’s better that he’s drugged and loose and somewhat calm then lucid and scared and angry. he can still be pretty mean when he's drugged, and since lawrence is really the only one adam can be around for extended periods of time, lawrence gets the brunt of the insults and harsh ramblings. says stuff like you should have left me to die instead, and lawrence isn’t sure if adam even remembers any of the shit he says and he’s too scared to ask, but it all fucking haunts him anyway.
so adam doesn't do well at all, not for a long time. not in the warehouse and not when he and lawrence are finally allowed back out into the real world. by the time they're unceremoniously dumped at the hospital almost a month after being kidnapped, adam knows he’s not going to tell. if only out of fear and a loyalty to lawrence. but when the hospital staff tell them that the police want to ask you a few questions, and mark walks in…well. that fucks with adam too. he can’t even be honest when asked do you remember anything after losing consciousness in that bathroom?, because the person asking it has the same empty eyes that greeted him in the warehouse, the same hands that adam saw building torture devices. and adam isn’t sure if he’ll ever be safe again.
his own apartment doesn't even feel like a haven, because that's where he got kidnapped he can never feel confident that he’s alone. he checks rooms and cupboards again and again, spending hours every night to make sure that nobody is hiding somewhere, ready to attack at any moment. he can’t handle being in there in the dark. he has a panic attack the first time he tries to be in his bathroom/darkroom with the door closed, the photos and the bathtub reminding him of who he is and what he’s done and where he’s been. the horrible shit that happened to him and why he deserved it. he throws his camera against the wall on one of his first nights back, unable to think about the photos he took with the flash. he never ate or slept or took care of himself much to begin with, but he just ends up spending most of his days crouching against the wall, shaking with fear and his baseball bat beside him. if he lets his guard down for even a moment then he’ll end up back in that shithole. sometimes lawrence will come by and adam will feel safe again, but then he’ll remember: lawrence is one of them now. and maybe he’s not safe anywhere anymore.
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When Aluojin said “Bixia” and “Human Sovereign,” Xuan Ji had thought he had misheard them all. Since the olden days, besides the ancient gods in the legends, the one that could be called “Human Sovereign” by the foreign tribes was only Sheng Xiao, Emperor Wu of the Great Qi.
It was because he rectified the chaos and righted the wrongs. With a mortal’s body, he had accomplished the achievements that could not be done with a mortal’s power. He was one to be respected and feared, as if he was an immortal being who had descended into the world. . .
How could he be a twink who would flirt with anyone off the streets?
Lie Huo Jiao Chou/Drowning Sorrows in Raging Fire chap 24
SCREAMING
#first of all Xuan Ji twinks can do anything so write that down#i know the show used bailian (white face- kind of like pretty boy) so I’m guessing that’s what was used here#I’m too lazy to look it up atm#which isn’t exactly the same as twink……. but still#also love that Xuan Ji personally saw him kill someone by driving his fingers through their skull but Xuan Ji is still like#……. but he’s a twink tho#Lena reads#drowning sorrows in raging fire#lhjc
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Bernard Figures It Out
Was reading through all the comments on @frostbittenbucky's post and all I could think of was that it was Bernard talking to Tim. Then I got to thinking...
"I've connected the two dots."
"You didn't connect shit."
"I've connected them."
Bernard figures out Tim's a superhero... sort of.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Tim fidgetted nervously as he waited on the front porch of his boyfriend’s house. Bernard had sounded so serious when he’d called during Tim’s lunch to ask him to come over after work so they could talk about something.
Which Tim had done, after spending an entire board meeting just going over the past week trying to figure out what he’d done.
The only thing he could think of was that he’d ducked out halfway through their lunch date on Wednesday to give Duke some backup, but Bernard had seemed understanding when Tim explained there was an emergency at GRC Labs. It couldn’t have been a tipping point, either, since Tim had managed to only flake on three other dates over the past few months they’d been dating. Kate had been happy to cover for him as often as she could “out of queer solidarity” when she found out Tim was dating a boy for the first time and Tim had managed to trick Bruce into covering a few actual Wayne Enterprises emergencies for him when they came up.
There had to be a reason Bernard was breaking up with him, though. Had he missed something? He definitely wasn’t forgetting an important day. He was good with days and Tam was even better, so she would have reminded him on the off chance that he had forgotten.
What was he missing?
Bernard was smiling when he opened the door, but there was a nervous energy to it that had Tim’s stomach sinking. “Hey, Tim.”
“Hey.” Tim gave his own nervous smile then slipped inside.
They went into the living room and sat down on the couch.
Tim frowned when Bernard grabbed a manila folder off the coffee table. Crud, had he screwed up enough that Bernard had had to make a list? He knew he was new to dating a guy, but he hadn’t thought he’d done that bad. He’d really been trying, especially with how his and Stephanie’s relationship had fallen apart at the end. “What -”
“Just let me speak, Tim,” Bernard said, waiting for Tim’s nod. “Okay, so you know Clark Kent, right?”
Tim blinked as Bernard opened the folder to show a picture of Clark. It looked like one of the employee pictures from the Planet’s website, with his dorky “I’m just a humble country boy” smile and the golden globe from their roof photoshopped in as the background. “Uh, yeah? I think so. He works for the Daily Planet, right? I think he’s worked at a few of Bruce’s events. Not a lot of outside reporters are willing to come to Gotham.”
“Exactly!” Bernard said, snapping his fingers and pointing at Tim.
“What?”
He pulled out the picture to show the next page was an article titled, “DAILY PLANET REPORTER… BATMAN!?”
A wave of relief washed over Tim and he placed his face in his hands. “Were you up all night on the hero conspiracy boards again?”
“No. I mean, I found this on a board and was up all night thinking about it, but I found it reasonably early.”
“One in the morning isn’t reasonable, Bernard.”
“Says the guy who’s always wide awake when I call to infodump.”
“Touché.” Tim leaned against Bernard and gave him a smile. “So tell me, why is some reporter from Metropolis from all places Batman.”
“First of all, living in Metropolis is the perfect cover. Everyone assumes Batman would live in Gotham, no one would consider he could be from anywhere else. Metropolis is outside the GMA, but close enough that the commute is still possible.”
“But it’s Metropolis.”
“And who would think Gotham’s Dark Knight lives in the sunshine capital? Plus, I hear he disappears a lot on the job. There’s gotta be a reason for it!”
Tim made a note to let Clark know he needs to cut back on the disappearing act some since people are catching on.
“And have you seen the guy? He is swol AF, babe.”
“Please don’t call me babe while you’re talking about how hot another guy is.” Especially Tim’s honorary uncle.
“You know I prefer twinks.”
“BERNARD!”
“I’m just saying,” he continued, ignoring Tim’s shout. “The guy is definitely hiding something! Besides, Kent is an investigative reporter. He’s gotta know a lot about cases and the underground and detective work.”
Not as much as he likes people to think, but more than he likes people to know Superman does, Tim mused. “But what about the other vigilantes?”
“Well, Kent has a cousin…” Bernard flipped through a folder and pulled out a picture of Kara. It looked like a screenshot of her interviewing Lena for CatCo. “She’s obviously the latest Batgirl. Look at her hair. And the first Batgirl and the current Batwoman were obviously Lois Lane, the red hair is just a wig. Did you see how she kicked butt at that last event she went to? She’s not as subtle as Kent. That means their son is the latest Robin. He’s exactly the right size.”
Oh, Damian better not hear about this, Tim cackled internally. His youngest brother hated being reminded that Jon was the same height as him despite their two years age difference. Damian definitely took after Talia when it came to body type, no matter what he said.
“And Kent also has a brother.” This time he pulled out a picture of Kon. The clone must have been caught by a reporter out shopping with Ma since he was carrying some paper bags and glaring at whoever was behind the camera. “At least, he’s supposedly Kent’s brother, but he was a teenager when he first showed up with the Kents. A lot of people think he’s actually Kent’s son, that Kent got a girl pregnant when they were teenagers and something happened to the mom so Kent had to take him in. Now the Kents are trying to hide it by saying the two are brothers.”
That was… scarily accurate actually. Especially given Luthor and Clark were close friends at the time that Kon would have theoretically been born.
“And that beef would explain why the younger Kent brother went all crime lord on Gotham for a while before reconnecting with the family.”
“Wait, what?”
“Yeah, Kent Jr.’s got the perfect build for Red Hood.”
Tim bit back a comment on how Kon was shorter than Jason by a good foot. Timothy Drake-Wayne should not know that. Add Jason to the list of people who can’t hear this theory.
“And then there’s this girl,” Bernard picked up a picture of Lois, Jon, and Natasha Irons walking down the street together. “No one’s sure exactly who she is, but she’s been spotted with the Kents a few times. I think the cover story is that she’s Jon’s babysitter.”
“And the actual story?”
“She’s Black Bat, obviously. That’s why she wears a mask that fully covers her face. She doesn’t want to stand out as the only African American Bat.”
“Isn’t Signal also Black?”
“Yeah, but he works in the daytime so he’s already a standout.”
“And who is Signal in this? And what about Nightwing and Red Robin?”
“Well, Nightwing’s just a Blüd who came to Gotham. He doesn’t count.”
Ouch. Sorry, Dick.
“And Red Robin is obviously an older Robin, the one who was Robin when we were kids. Kent wanted to keep him on, and I don’t blame him. As for Signal, he’s got the same backstory as all the other Robins Kent picked up, he just went the Signal route because he didn’t fit the usual Robin mold.”
“Because the female Robin fit the mold,” Tim snorted. Robin Mold, as if he and his brothers were even the same ethnicity. Or even had the same hair color. Jason dyes his hair, Dick’s is brown-black, Tim’s is pure black, and Damian’s is more a dark brown and it’s only getting lighter as he gets older.
“She didn’t, that’s the point. Kent tried to give breaking the Robin mold a chance by letting his cousin have a go at it, but he realized it just didn’t work so she went back to being Spoiler and he got a new Robin.”
Not touching that with a ten-foot pole. “Right, and where does he get the usual Robins? Please tell me you’re not back on the secret government orphanages theory.”
“No, no, no. Kent travels sometimes for his job, right? And a lot of the time he’s going to places that have been hit by disasters or major crimes. So he’ll take in some of the displaced children to train as his robins.”
Tim pressed his face back into his hands.
“You see it, right?”
Honestly, Tim was just wondering how his boyfriend could be so close, and yet so far off. “How would Kent even afford taking care of a bunch of secret -- possibly illegally acquired -- children without anyone noticing?”
“Simple. Bruce Wayne is funding him.”
“Bernard, I love you, but what the heck?” Tim blushed and looked up as he realized what he’d said, but Bernard didn’t seem to notice as he steamrolled ahead.
“It’d also explain how he can afford all the gear and how he’d be able to travel to Gotham or anywhere else Batman goes without anyone noticing. He probably has a secret Batplane or something.”
“Why would Bruce do that?”
“Because Wayne cares about Gotham, everyone knows that, and this way he can make sure someone’s taking care of the city without anyone putting two and two together.”
“And two plus two is?”
Bernard gave him a hard look. “I’m not stupid, Tim. Bruce Wayne is obviously Superman. His face is right there.”
Oh, the others are going to love this! Too bad I can’t tell Damian or Jason. Jason especially would have loved this. “Right. Bruce is Superman.”
“He is. Superman is known for being nice and Bruce Wayne’s basically all that’s keeping the city running at this point. That’s nice as hell.”
Oh my god.
“And Wayne does charity for the victims of cataclysms, doesn't he? I bet he first saves people from them as Superman and then builds them new homes for free.”
Oh my god! Why am I not recording this!?
“And the Wayne’s were rich enough to hide the fact they adopted an alien baby.”
Tim raised an eyebrow. “If you’re about to tell me this is why Bruce’s parents got killed, you might want to stop while you’re ahead.”
“It’d make sense. There’re all sorts of unanswered questions about their deaths,” Bernard muttered under his breath, flipping through the folder. He pulled out another picture of Kara. This time she was in full Supergirl attire with a bus held overhead. “So if Wayne is Superman, then that’d mean your ex-girlfriend could be Supergirl. They look a lot alike and it’d explain how she got involved with you all.”
“Bernard, she has a human dad. You know, Cluemaster. The supervillain.”
“Yeah, her dad. But we don’t know anything about her mom!”
“Let me guess…”
Bernard pulled out a picture of Karen. She and Helena were suited up and talking to a group of cops, two goons held over each of Karen’s shoulders. “Her mom could be Power Girl! Some makeup and a wig and she could look just like Crystal Brown! And Damian Wayne is obviously the new Superboy! That’s why his background is such a mystery, right? He had to stay a secret until he could control his alien superpowers. That’s why he’s always so mean. It’s a cover since everyone knows Superboy is super sweet!”
Sure, when he’s not helping Damian pull pranks or using his adorable powers to put the blame on Kon and I. “No, Bernard. Damian and Steph are just very human hellspawn. And Bruce and Crystal are human too. I can’t believe you called me over here just to tell me you think Superman is both Batman’s sugar daddy and my adoptive dad.”
“Well, that’s not exactly why I called you over,” Bernard admitted, the nervous energy coming back. He grabbed Tim’s hands. “Tim -”
Tim’s stomach sank. “You are breaking up with me!”
“What? No! I don’t want to break up!”
“Why are you acting all nervous and serious then!?” Tim asked, pulling his hands away to throw them up in the air.
Bernard shook the folder. “Because I’m trying to tell you I figured out you’re Superboy!”
Tim’s brain blue-screened and his hands slowly dropped. “I’m sorry, what?”
“I know you’re Superboy. The older one, obviously. By the way, you and Damian really need to figure out separate names.”
Forget Jason and Damian, Kon can never find out about this. He’d never let me live it down. “Bernard, you called me a twink five minutes ago. Su-” Shoot, I can not risk getting Kon’s attention! “The older one might not be as big as Superman, but he’s not a twink.”
“Well, yeah, that’s the shapeshifting at work.”
“The what?”
“Obviously you Kryptonians can shapeshift. Why else would you look so much like humans?”
… Why do Kryptonians look so much like humans? Was there some - Wait, no! Break into the Fortress of Solitude for research later! Reassure your boyfriend that you’re not an alien now! “Bernard -”
“And that explains why your step-mom was so hot.”
“Gross.”
“She and your dad were actors hired by Luthor so you could have a normal life! But now Bruce has custody so he adopted you.”
“No.”
“That’s why you and your dad were so weird with each other when I met him.”
“We were weird because he’d just gotten out of a coma not long before to find that his wife was dead so he decided to actually be a dad for once in his life, but overcompensated and became a helicopter parent to a kid who was mostly on his own for his entire life!” Tim blurted out. “I am not an alien, Bernard!”
“Well, not technically since you were cloned from Superman on Earth.”
“Oh my god! You were just talking about Steph being Supergirl! Why would I date my dad’s cousin?”
Bernard blinked. “Supergirl and Superman are cousins?”
Right, Timothy Drake-Wayne wasn’t supposed to know that. “I thought they’d said something like that before, yeah. Are people seriously saying I’m Superboy on the internet?”
“NO! No, I swear I would have led with that if I thought your identity was compromised. A few people have mentioned Wayne and Damian, but not you or Steph or Jason.”
“Wh-Jason!? You think Jason was an alien too!”
“No, not exactly, but a few times when I’ve visited I swear I’ve seen a guy in the manor who looks like Jason. It’s just been out of the corner of my eye and he’s gone whenever I look so I’ve always thought it was just Dick or Bruce or some picture of Jason that my mind was playing tricks with, but it makes sense now that I know Wayne is Superman. He must have been able to heal Jason with alien tech, but couldn’t say anything because that would give away that he’s Superman.”
Damn it Jason! And damn it Bernard! I’m dating the smartest moron in the world! “Bruce did not bring Jason back with alien technology and none of us are aliens!”
“It’s okay, Tim. I won’t tell anyone.”
Tim grabbed Bernard by the jacket and pulled him into a kiss. When he started to feel lightheaded, he pulled back, “Could someone whose skin is as solid as stone kiss like that?”
Bernard blinked dazedly at him for a moment. “How do you know what Superboy’s skin feels like?”
Tim screamed internally. “He’s saved me from a kidnapping before.”
“Really?”
“Yes. I can get you the police report if you want.”
“Huh… And the others?”
“Not Supers. I can stab Damian the next time we’re at the manor if that’ll prove none of us are aliens.” He’d rather stab Jason, but that would probably only confirm to Bernard that Bruce used alien technology to bring him back.
“You probably shouldn’t stab your brother if he isn’t an alien.”
Tim rolled his eyes. “I won’t stab him anywhere deadly.”
“That’s not the point,” Bernard said slowly.
“He’ll be fine.”
“If you say so.”
“So do you believe I’m not an alien now?” Tim huffed, letting go of Bernard’s jacket.
The blond’s eyes dipped down to Tim’s lips. “If I say no, will you kiss me like that again?”
“You’re ridiculous,” Tim said, but he kissed him anyway.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Okay, but I still say Clark Kent is definitely Batman.”
“Sure, Bernard.”
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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.”
#networkbangtan#armiesnet#btsghostie#jungkook smut#bts smut#jungkook x reader#bts x reader#bts reader insert#bts fanfiction#bts scenarios#bts#jungkook scenarios#jeon jungkook#jungkook#bts jungkook#bangtan#bts fanfic#no more smut for 2020......... NO MORE#next fic is angst idc anymore I NEED TO CLEANSE MYSELF AHHHHHH
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So, I got two people asking about my thoughts on the Master Sword, so I’m talking about the Master Sword.
So, to begin, I guess I should start by pointing out something we already know: only the Hero can wield her. This is because Sky went out of his way to forge the Master Sword, and himself alongside her.
So, if she can only be wielded by the Hero, who can she tell when it’s her twink that’s trying to pull her?
Simply put, I think that Fi is bound to the Hero’s Spirit, and that’s what she uses to figure out whether or not it’s the Hero coming back. And once she’s identified Link as the Hero, she sort of, latches on.
I want to reference another theory I saw about Fi being bound to the Hero’s Spirit and something something she also died in the Downfall Timeline, but I can’t find it. If anyone knows what theory I’m talking about I would appreciate help locating it.
But here’s the thing, this sort of bond runs deep. Like, these are two beings with separate spirits but who’s very souls have become intertwined, which helps them act as one, but does come with a downside.
So, this was in reference to ACIF, so I’ll use examples from there for the next bit.
When you pull the Master Sword, she ties herself to you. Once she’s recognized the Hero she intertwines their souls and binds them together. They act as one, each an extension of the other. And some Heroes notice this more clearly than others.
Knight (and kinda Wild) are pretty magically inept. They don’t use magic in their games, not really. So when Knight pulls the Master Sword in Chapter 10, all he feels is this thrumming. He can feel the magic as Fi reaches out to him, but he doesn’t recognize it. Contrast to, say, Warriors, who isn’t great at magic but isn’t magically inept (he does use some magic in his game), who did recognize the magic as he pulled the sword, but maybe didn’t realize what it meant. And then Hyrule, who is very magic comparatively, and the scene were he pulled the sword in the canon comic, he knew exactly what was happening.
So, in the chapter I just posted (Chapter 12), what is Warriors talking about with a sense of longing for the sword?
Simply put, he’s not longing for the sword, he’s longing for the piece of himself that resides within it.
This is what I meant by downside. While the Hero wields the sword the two are one. Their souls are intertwined together and connected. So putting her back means you have to separate the two souls back into separate souls. And, I don’t think they always succeed.
Basically, when a Hero puts the Master Sword back, they don’t separate cleanly from her. There is a part of the Hero that remains with Fi. (And a part of Fi that remains with the Hero.) I think this also connects kind of to the sort of, listlessness in some of the sequels where the Hero keeps adventuring without Fi. In Majora’s Mask we don’t really get to see it much since Time is still a little messed up with other stuff, and Wind is too young to have noticed yet. But in Hyrule Warriors there is the Great Sea DLC, where Warriors doesn’t even hesitate to throw himself back into the fight.
It’s also why I don’t think Sky likes using any other sword. Being the first Hero, and the one to forge the Master Sword, he’d have a stronger connection with her than the others. Which means two things: 1. He gives up slightly more of himself than the others when Fi went he put her back, and 2. He can’t make the same kind of connection with another sword like he does with Fi, and so he doesn’t want to use them.
So for the person asking if Warriors is the only one to notice this, no. Every Hero who wielded the Master Sword notices that something is off or missing. That being said, most Heroes don’t know why this is. Sky knows, and I think Time has figured it out. Hyrule absolutely knows. But most of the rest of them don’t. Warriors knows it has some connection to the sword based on the longing, but Twilight has probably sorted it into the ‘I miss Midna’ explanation.
So, TL;DR I suppose: The Master Sword is bound to the Hero’s soul and they don’t separate when the Hero puts the sword back, so a part of the Hero remains with the sword, leading to a sense of longing and listlessness when they don’t fully understand what happened.
#my many headcanons#fi#the master sword#i have a theory#i guess it fits there?#should i tag this with the boys?#i dunno i might go back and add that later#honestly this was born from me thinking#'it would be cool if when warriors put the sword back to seal ganon he had to seal part of himself too'#and then i extrapolated and included the other links#the links who didn't use the master sword#like four#don't deal with the same kind of longing#since they never wielded the sword#but fi would still recognize them and thus it is possible#i have other thoughts on wind and the hero's spirit#and why he still counts#that leads to the funniest mental image#so there's also that if anyone cares#long post
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I’ll confess my sins. When I skipped the first chapters of Capri I got stuck on Laurent’s description as spoiled and similar to overripe fruit. So i was like ah. Royal Dudley Dursley with a blonde curly wig. Sounds about right. I finally saw some fan art and was like??? Who is this anemic Victorian vampire legolas persona?? Honestly tho in an alternate universe where Auguste doesn’t die and Laurent still dislikes sports but enjoys Veres sweet meats and his metabolism is only the slightest bit slower Laurent is absolutely getting chubby. And Damen. Smh he manages to be shadiest bitch while also being appreciating. Would he insult an overweight courtier who never touched a sword? Absolutely. Would he respect a meaty sumo ringer able to throw Damen around like a rag doll? Absolutely. He seems to appreciate multiple types of bodies just fine (muscled gladiators, frail slaves, sturdy vaskian women) so I feel like he’d also appreciate curvier partners as long as they. Well know how to use their body yk. Oh and what about chubby jokaste? We don’t know enough about akielon beauty standards at all. Sure slaves are probably mostly slender and frail to add to the submissive aesthetic (tho I do remember damens fixation on his female slaves big boobs, dude is far from subtle as always). But if it’s Ancient Greek inspired beauty standards jokaste most definitely rocks some tummy rolls. Either that or she’s got super toned abs from the Pilates classes she visits with the other trophy concubines. and akielon man are properly ripped but is it king-Leonidas-washboard-abs ripped?? Or more chunky functional muscle mass ripped? Perhaps akielon noble women are even trained like Spartan women and egeria was the one with the washboard abs. Also there absolutely was a time in Vere where the chubbier the pet = the wealthier it’s owner. Im so so sorry for rambling but your post got me t h i n k i n g
This is not only hilarious but also one of the best takes I’ve ever read. There is so much to unpack here that I truly don’t know where to start.
You mentioned Dudley, whose weight and fat (derogatory) tendencies are accentuated throughout the entire Harry Potter saga. I think—and this is my personal belief, it is not something anyone else has to agree with—that part of what makes Laurent interesting and redeemable to many readers has to do with the fact that he’s beautiful*. I don’t think many people would be willing to admit that, but Laurent’s pretty privilege as a fictional character is similar to Draco Malfoy’s (in fanon) or other morally grey villains/characters’. Ugly characters are harder to forgive, for some reason.
This got me thinking that had Pacat written Laurent as canonically fat, there would be a lot of stuff going on in Damen’s head that I don’t think we’d be able to excuse as easily as we excuse other (quite horrible) thoughts of his. But also, like I mentioned above, I think Laurent would have a harder time proving to some readers that he’s not Dudley, that he’s not just a stereotype of selfishness and greed and other things fatness is associated with (like childishness or an inability to take accountability for one’s actions). This would happen not because he’s fat, but rather because we see the world through Damen’s eyes. And Damen is. . . Quite opinionated.
You mentioned Damen would be judgmental of someone’s weight based on their ability to fight. So, like you pointed out, he’d make fun of a useless in battle courtier but not of a Sumo wrestler. I think in Book 1 Damen would make fun of anything and everyone, but I do understand where you’re coming from with that statement. It makes me wonder what Damen would think of people with a mobility/physical disability. Or even with learning difficulties. Or just about anyone that, according to him, doesn’t contribute to society. If you can’t be a warrior or a bed slave, and if you’re not in a condition to be a peasant and plow fields, and if you don’t have royal blood in your veins. . . I have a hard time picturing Damen being sympathetic.
Chubby Jokaste. . . I think I’ve always thought of her as a muscled woman, given the fact that Laurent can pose as her in Book 3. There’s been a lot of discourse lately on whether Laurent is muscled or a twigly twink, which I will not get into because I. . . do not know enough about gender and/or gender expression to add anything to any argument. I am also not a gay man, so I don’t know what could be considered offensive. I am also very stupid. I also do not know what the word 'twink' means anymore.
Your ask has made me think a lot about many things I’m usually not interested in. I think it would be interesting to see a chubby Laurent who still knows how to fight, who trains, who does things other than eat and hate. Canon Laurent is slender, and yet he never manages to beat Damen in combat, so I don’t think his ability to fight would suffer much from gaining some pounds. It would be interesting to see chubby Jokaste too, even though I don’t particularly enjoy the parallels between her and Laurent in canon. It would also be interesting to see. . . different types of bodies. You mentioned the Vaskian ladies, which I like a lot, but I don’t think I’ve read or come across any fics that focus on them. I think Vannes’ pet is also described as muscular and big, but I’m afraid I don’t remember the quote and I don’t own the books, so I can’t be sure.
What I liked the most was the ending of your ask, where you went on to add little worldbuilding details. Like I said yesterday, I wish canon was more detailed so we could maybe have something to hold onto when we make certain claims. It’s hard to say which parts of Damen’s thought process are entirely his (as a prince with a lot of privilege) and which ones have to do with his culture. Pacat has pointed out some to us, like the fact that Akielons don’t enjoy certain “spectacles” of the body, like pet rings or public sex, but they do enjoy staring at bodies when they’re wrestling or performing physical activities unrelated to sex. Other things remain little mysteries, in my opinion. Do all bed slaves have the same body type? Do women wrestle? How does marriage work in Akielos? What is everyone else’s opinion on fat people? I’m sure not everyone is like Damen, who we speculate cares about having a healthy body so he can fight and. . . stuff.
I am not saying Damen is the only character who, in the historic period where Captive Prince is set, would have fatphobic thoughts. If Damen was fat, Laurent would be the first one to use that against him, especially in Book 1. I just think Damen fits the fatphobic mold better because he’s described as this hypermasculine character, very into war (I think the blurb of the book calls him a warrior prince?) and manly things. Which is not to say war is inherently manly. Which is not to say Laurent isn’t manly. Which is not to say. . . whatever.
Captive Prince is a fantasy trilogy, set in. . . the past. Concepts such as fatphobia or toxic masculinity are not exactly applicable, but I think it’s fun to explore Damen’s character through his flaws. Laurent has a lot of flaws, but Damen’s are sometimes confused with virtues. In my opinion, they’re at their best when they’re being disgustingly horrible to each other.
I’m sorry for writing you a 90 paragraph response.
* He's almost universally beautiful in the Captive Prince world. Damen finds him pretty, and Torveld, and Jord (we've read that 'cute' quote where he describes Laurent at 15 to Aimeric). Not saying fat = ugly. I'm saying it seems like the 'hegemonic' body type for pretty is Laurent's, otherwise. . . why would everyone he comes in contact with comment on his pretty looks?
#fatphobia#laurent being fat#how do i tag this ask#should i tag it lamen lmao#okay i'm tagging it captive prince but only because i think it'd be super interesting to... see if people have any fics or art they can rec#me with fat laurent or fat damen or just... different kinds of bodies#i used the word disability but i don't know if there's a different way to say that...?#captive prince#i feel like this post is problematic but not bc i'm a bad person#it's just because i'm stupid and can't explain my thoughts#i'm the aimeric of this fandom#(bc he makes bad decisions)
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an introduction of VICTON♥︎༄
my favorite emo punk fairies of kpop, @aixy-hpsa bub buckle up.
-`about victon´-
Victon actually means Voice to New World or some, and we, the cult-followers, are to be yelled at by the name of ALICE. They debuted 2016 and have so far produced a bunch of mindblowing, amazing, superior, beautiful, showstopping (...) bops:
-`studio albums´-
Voice : The Future is Now (2021) *scream*
-`mini albums´-
Voice To New World (2016)
Ready (2017)
Identity (2017)
From. VICTON (2017)
Nostalgia (2019)
Continuous (2020)
-`single albums´-
"Time of Sorrow" (2018)
"Mayday" (2020)
they are amaaaaazing oke. look here have my favorite songs of them. (Yes I’m forcing my love for them down your throat now I’m sorry)
♥︎ - KANG SEUNGSIK - ♥︎
♥︎ 16. April 1995 ♥︎ 🐶 ♥︎ 🇰🇷 ♥︎
Leader!
He became Victons leader after Seungwoo started participating in Produce X 101 and then officially became Victons leader when Seungwoo came back from X1.
Vocalist! VOCALIST. VOCALIST
This man is blessed with a set of insane vocal chords and we all love him for it.
congratulations to Victon for being the only group with Kang Seungsik
He’s the mom of the group :,)
Supa caring dude, cleans up the mess of OT6
Is “Health” in persona, which kinda fits doesn’t it.
Naturally gets bullied by the younger ones.
EYE SMILE GANG
Also has dimples
Great leader and we should all respect him for it and give him never ending credits, victon wouldn’t be victon without him periodt.
♥︎ - HAN SEUNGWOO - ♥︎
♥︎ December 24, 1994 ♥︎ 🦊 ♥︎ 🇰🇷 ♥︎
Lead rapper, lead dancer, lead vocalist lead everything
Except Leader.
He gave that position up after he returned from X1 (where he by the way also was voted leader)
YOOO the members missed him so much they cried when he was gone
Visuals✨
Oh boy that man...dangerous
He has the funniest laugh? Like u would never expect that laugh to be his???
He. Has. His. Own. EP. And I dare everyone to listen to „Sacrifice“. It’s a masterpiece.
Seunggu also has tattoos!! 3 in total.
This dude is ripped yet u will probably catch him imitating goats and pikachu...?
Will roast the maknae but with love
Hes so much more than just his face.
♥︎ - DO HANSE - ♥︎
♥︎ 25. Sept. 1997 ♥︎ 🐱 ♥︎ 🇰🇷 ♥︎
Hello you’re looking at the loml
Main rapper.
(Of victon and of Kpop ex.1 and ex.2)
Sese ♥︎
Puts the sweet in sweetheart and really, he only looks like he could kill
TATTOOOOOS. SO. MANY. OF. THEM.
Semicolon on his wrist; cross on his left shoulder and chest (he church boi); roses on his arm: writings on his collar bone; so many more
bestest sense of fashion hands down
Iconic lip ring
His own solo EP is on the way!!!
Somehow this man is also main dancer
MIC FLIPS OWO
Talented boy.
♥︎ - LIM SEJUN - ♥︎
♥︎ May 4, 1996 ♥︎ 🍓 ♥︎ 🇰🇷 ♥︎
You are looking at an icon here
Most coziest-est VLives in history of Vlives
Easily scared (victon does enjoy that, naturally)
Very whiny but it’s oke
Lead Vocalist, Visual, Face of the Group
Insane vocals too, here ex.1
Another member of kpops cucumbers-anti squad
He’s very much BTS fanboy (not as much as Wooyoung but that’s hard anyways)
Competitive eater (listen, the maknae said that and we will believe him)
Will never leave Subin do a Vlive in peace ever
Will Never leave Subin live in peace ever either
Clingy boy
Walking noise-machine, he goes “ouh? Oh? Eh?” Like 372892 times a day
So much love for the dimple-prince
♥︎ - HEO CHAN - ♥︎
♥︎ December 14, 1995 ♥︎ 🦖 ♥︎ 🇰🇷 ♥︎
May I introduce...SUNSHINE OF VICTON ☀️
Mood maker of the group!
Mr Main Dancer and Vocalist also has dimples
And even tho he wanted to be a dance instructor, he somehow ended up becoming an idol
He even trained with TBZ mr leader sir Sangyeon
Mans can drive!!
Like Lee Know, he once was a backup dancer. For A-Pink tho, which is pretty cool
Hes considered the uncle in our lovely family dynamic
Expensive boi be collecting sHOES
And he said he polishes them from time to time and I do think that’s adorable
He’s also allergic to cats (unless it’s Hanse. That’s okay ig)
Cutest sunny boy, will take good care of your heart always☀️💛
♥︎ - CHOI BYUNGCHAN - ♥︎
♥︎ November 12, 1997 ♥︎ 🐥 ♥︎ 🇰🇷 ♥︎
Welcome to Victon where everyone has a mandatory crush on Byung
Like he doesn’t even have to enter your biasline
You will still have a crush on him because Byungchan
Softest biaswrecker i have ever had 112/10 would recommend
Tall boi. Like really tall and really broad👀
I keep forgetting he’s maknae line tbh
Prettiest Dimples ever.
Very active on his Instagram and we love him for it
Top tier bf material
Hes the softest boy and yet only one who isn’t scared of fucking bugs (victon scaredy cats)
Try not falling too hard for the mister
He knows so many girlfroup dances
He also shows them off quite always
He’s a bit tinie liddol but clumsy sometimes
Gosh I love him
♥︎ - JUNG SUBIN - ♥︎
♥︎ April 5, 1999 ♥︎ 🐰 ♥︎ 🇰🇷 ♥︎
Vocalist, Rapper, Heart-stealer, Actor...
AND MOST LOVED MAKNAE EVER
Like I don’t know if any maknae ever received as many kisses as this one
Gets (rightfully) babied to the Max by every. Single. One. Of. Them.
24/7
He’s also a babie. Like yes he’s a grown man and he looks hella intimidating on stage but-
It’s Subin
He’s also the smolest in Victon (uwu)
At the same time, maknae on top, this man gets everything (except his own room lmao) he wants
Sometimes not so baby (ex.1)
Saiubin-bby was supposed to debut with Pentagon but he yeeted last minute (we thank)
The child himself has children too: dog Toto and 2 cats: Mimi and Jaws.
He’s close friends with my favourite, formerly pink-haired elf-twink Yeonjun of TXT
Chairman of Victon.
he has the BEST insta user: subsubey.
Best boi.
-`very valid victon-moments to begin with´-
- because its pride: ���
- general victon-feelsies: 🌸
- for bad mood: ☀️
- moments when you want to question their sanity: 🌻 🌼 🌺 🌹
- victon being talented on studio CHOOM
- victon being talented whilst covering kehlanis "Gangsta"
alright that was long. and yes they are exactly as loud and noisy and annoying and time consuming as they seem but they are also best boys who can bring very much happiness into ones life, so they are very much worth it
#ryu tag💎#victon my beloved#victon#lim sejun#seungwoo#han seungwoo#hanse#do hanse#heo chan#kpop#subin#jung subin#byungchan#like I have 83479803h of material I can also show u#including like every comfort/mental support video#just say the word
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i have a lot of thoughts about like,, fandoms turning into like an. echo chamber, and people pay more attention to traits and tropes portrayed in other fanworks than to. canon. and you end up with what is essentially fanfiction of fanfiction (of fanfiction (of fanfiction)). which. isn't *necessarily* bad i guess? it's weird starting off reading stuff that is. closer to the source, and then stuff that starts to diverge, and then diverge *more*, and sometimes it's just slow enough you don't really catch it (or you do but you tolerate it and then it becomes the new normal)...... and then the whiplash of interacting with canon again and realizing the sheer extent to which fandom has by and large sorted everyone neatly into the preferred archetypes. also interesting to see how the which archetypes Are preferred changes over time. i dunno that i could map it out but i can feel it There.
ECHOCHAMBER! That’s exactly the word for it Anon, please imagine the twink lovingly staring up at buff guy giving a lecture meme right now. That’s me @ you.
Confession time, I was really into attack on titan when I was like, 13 or 14. And the way I engaged with that show was barely even in the same ballpark as what the source material was. I would take the same handful of characters as everyone else that we’d DECIDED were friends, give them entirely different personalities and drop them into an American high school to play out whatever drama we wanted there. It was like playing dolls, we just took the pretty ones and said “we’’ll take it from here”
And I think attack on titan is a horrifying showcase of that exact thing because I cannot imagine what it would be like if I still did that today. If I just wanted to play my own little games with the characters instead of going “Oh fuck, I examined some of the themes of the text and it seems perhaps a little fascist!”
Because that’s what happens when you let other fans lead you and don’t engage with the text! It’s a pretty extreme scenario of it, yes, but it’s what could’ve happened to me if I didn’t get bored of anime, because the fanfic I was consuming at that age had no relativity to canon whatsoever. We decided one guy always wore a red beanie. Where the fuck did that come from? In the show they always wear the same fantasy military outfits but popular art showed him wear one in a modern au so it just... became an accepted character trait. Which yeah, isn’t always necessarily a bad thing. Hell, I’ve written meta about how people tend to give season 1 Jon a jumper and later seasons a Cardigan and that’s ENTIRELY fan lore based so it’s not always bad it’s just like,, in moderation, Y’know?
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ok J&H Fandom, let’s talk:
“Popular” blog @thatsmyhyde is a prominent creator in the J&H Fandom. But here’s where the problem shows up:
the content they make is concerning at least, and full of red flags at worst.
DISCLAIMER: This is all information I have gathered through their tumblr blog - I am not aware of what other things they may be posting on other social medias or their written work.
ANOTHER DISCLAIMER: Please be polite, I am a minor, and am just creating this post to ward off / warn other minors from following this person. If you are an adult interacting with this post and blog, be mindful of your actions and be responsible
Trigger warnings for: discussions of homophobia, discussions of p//phillia, fat-shaming, fat-phobia (?), etc. Just be on general edge for this post, we’re talking about a lot of weird stuff
I will be linking their posts as I am not going to take screenshots of their art.
This is not a comprehensive list of all the things they’ve done - these are the ones I could think of and was able to adress. If you have anything additional you want to add to this post (such as concerning things they may do on other social media), feel free to reblog and add on the things you need to say, just please don’t be dumb.
Let’s start with the premise: Henry Jekyll creates an alter ego, Edward Hyde. They begin a relationship - an emotional and physical one. Their AU features Jekyde (A popular ship in the fandom, the name stands for Jekyll x Hyde), people have various views on this ship.
So far so fine, right? Here are the problems:
1. Their Henry Jekyll is an awful person. Now, let’s start by saying that of course you can have bad people in your works, those are, after-all: villains. The problem is,Henry Jekyll is a harmful walking gay sterotype, and an outlet for Biscuit’s obvious fat fetish. But their relationship isn’t just toxic it’s romanticised in how toxic it is.
a. The harmful stereotype - Their Henry Jekyll has a “thing” for younger men, even though he is in his middle-ages, and Hyde looks like a young child. (Age gap relationships are their own thing - they come with their own burdens, and this is not the post to discuss them. This topic will lead into the Edward Hyde section of this post.) But, it was a known homophobic scare-mongering tactic of straight parents to accuse everyone who is gay that they are ‘out to prey on your youths’. This is a stereotype that stigmatized the LGBT community, and still harmfully affects them to this day.
b. The fat fetish: Jekyll is frequently seen with cake (as seen here, here, and here) or being self-loathing, to the point of suicide. (click the link here to acess a list of suicide and other crisis hotlines! you matter to me!). Now, the self-loathing could be a symptom of depression or other mental illness, so I am not going to talk about it, as a person with mental illnesses. But the self-loathing in addition to him being fat is not good. Media is drowning in the “self-loathing fat person” and as someone who isn’t thin i’m tired of seeing this.
- The fetish aspect comes in him constantly being referred to “Chonky”, a term usually used for overweight/obese cats and being drawn obsessed with cake. It fetishises his weight and dehumanises him into something people call their animals. Also, here’s more of Jekyll eating food and being embarassed by it, though this time because it’s seen as “servant’s food”.
- Biscuit admits to liking them “Big and chunky” in posts like this.
[Photo id: A string of texts that says: tantok, frankenstein, twink lore, dorian slipped through the cracks and got himself sketched by yours truly the other day because he brought lord henry along, he and the slime didn’t have to fight to the death because they’ve both got their own chonky old toxic henries to focus on, but this blog still ain’t big enough for the two of ‘em. end id]
- They also talk about how they ‘prefer’ to draw fat (chonky) people. Image attatched above. the thing that should be noticed is that they say ‘chonky old toxic henries’ . they, once again, are making fat people a fetish.
[Photo id: Anonymous asks: are you gonna make a victor design tho biscuit responds: Oh, man, anon, I hate to disappoint but.....probably not. Aside from my non-humanoids and hellspwans (slime gremlins, corpse creatures, and etcetera), I’m extremely uninterested in drawing young thin men. I really need middle-aged chonk to hold my attention. If poor Victor Frankenstein had only been 40-something and round when he made his great creation, then he’d definitely get a design from yours truly. As it is though, he’s not holding my attention enough to want to. end id]
Biscuit once again talks about how he doesn’t want to draw ‘thin men’, because he is only interested in older ‘round’ people. He, is, once again, bringing to light his fetish for fat people.
2. Edward Hyde is basically a child - Edward Hyde is drawn in boy’s school clothes, is taken in and raised like a child after Jekyll’s death, and is constantly cooed over by the creator, even earning a nickname of ‘slime’ from them. In addition, he also has ‘family photos’ taken with Utterson, has his toenails kept, is the height of a child, and teeths. This, paired with the fact that he is in a toxic, abusive, relationship with a man in his middle ages is concerning and should not be romanticised.
[Photo id: the text reads: In his first year of existence, Hyde lost teeth and regrew them in a mildly similar fashion to a kid losing baby teeth - except it wasn’t all of his teeth (Just the canines and some random molars) and they weren’t replaced with a larger set, just with teeth exactly the same as the ones that had been lost. No one knows what was up with this. the teeth are still in Jekyll’s study in a little jar. end id]
a. Hyde is treated like a child after Jekyll’s death. Hyde teething is concerning because that’s something infants do. He also clings to utterson like a child. The idea that he gets taken in by Utterson, whisked away to an estate out in the country, despite both of them having romantic feelings for Jekyll is. how do I put this: WEIRD. (seriously, imagine your father/father-figure dating ur significant other / having a crush on them before you two got together and after).
b. Hyde dresses like a child, whilst being sexually active and wearing lingerie. Now, on their own, these traits aren’t a problem - but together? They are very much a problem.
- Hyde dressing as a child is concerning because he is also treated like a child at certain points in their “lore”. After Jekyll’s death, Hyde becomes a singular entity, and is taken away by Utterson. To care for, like a child. This post sums it up well: he wears both children’s clothes and lingerie.
- Hyde has a very strange appearance - if you compare it to his early design (which was less cartoony and looked more like a man in his twenties), Hyde’s current design is concerning. Why does he have the height of a child? Why does he have eyes that take up a grand part of his face? Now, one could argue that ‘he is not human’ - but if he is treated like a human, whilst wearing children’s/youthful clothes, teeths, and his general enchanment with the world - he appears as human (and looks eerily similar to a child), which is why him being sexually active, wearing lingerie, and being friendly with prostitutes (one that gave him underwear and other articles of clothing) is concerning.
- That said, Utterson is directly talked about being ‘adopted into gremlin fatherhood’ (paraphrasing).
[Photo id: the text reads: 59. Jekyll is irresitibly attracted to everything about Hyde, but if he could somehow be forced to list hte most attractive physical attributes of Edward Hyde in his opinion, aside from Hyde’s youthful appearance in general it would be his eyes, his overbite (Jekyll perceived the way Hyde’s-) the screenshot cuts of the rest of the paragraph. end id]
- Jekyll has a ‘thing’ for younger men. This is to the point that the most attractive part about Hyde is that he is young. (or looks like it), Hyde looking very young is concerning because that would make their verison of Doctor Jekyll a p*dophille . This is something the artist has either not recognized, realised, or simply does not acknowledge.
3. The toxic relationship (and how it’s romanticised) - The relationship in this ‘AU’ is: love comes first, toxic nature comes second. If you scroll through the blog you may see some reference of ‘Henry Jekyll is such a toxic person teehee’ and a lot of them kissing, being together, smiling, or enjoying life. Now, obviously, an artist - if they do not want to - should not draw characters being toxic to each other. But it is concerning when the above points come into a factor, that the toxic nature of their relationship comes second to the highs of their relationship, at least on their blog.
Here is one of the only examples I’ve seen of Biscuit talk about the relationship in a detailed negative light.
4. The fandom - Whilst Biscuit says it’s ok for minors to interact with his blog (in that blog he says that he tags nsfw - which is true.) he does not regularly mention that his jekyde is toxic - not in a concerete way. He romanticises it (despite acknowledging it’s flaws), and the only way it may or may not be (i would not know) acknowledged is his fic: which is mature and not meant for minors. He does not tag his posts with regular triggers for things like: alcohol, drugs, mental illnesses, or abuse (any variants). They’re not even in his blog’s description! If Biscuit had acknowledged it in his blog, something along the lines of: “Hey! This blog has <content warnings> be warned when interacting! But no, he does not.
- A lot of the people who draw things, or generally interact with Biscuit are minors. Being exposed to such a thing may be harmful to my peers, and I am worried. To minors who are fans of Biscuit: if you’ve made it this far, thank you, I know you’re mature and responsible, but being exposed to content creators like Biscuit could lead you down a dangerous path of having this kind of thing normalised to you. Be careful with the content you consume, please! And thank you for making it this far, I’m sure you’re a lovely person :)!
Thank you for taking the time to read this! Stay safe, tell the people you love that you love them.
#J&H#jekyll and hyde#henry jekyll#edward hyde#i spent months thinking whether or not to write this#but#i'm worried about fellow minors on this website seeing this user's blog#and not thinking critically about this#so i snapped and made this#long post#like r e a l l y long post#i am so tired.#brb to answer the hate lmao i need to throw up#forgive me if by the end of this post i sound exhausted : i am#i spent this evening writing this post#goth lit fandom grow up challenge#aus do not remove the context of the original#listen to the minorities if they call you out#fiction REALLY AFFECTS REALITY
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Okay so. I watched Q-force. And I have no idea what I think about it.
Imma just be rambling so I'll break down the characters and my likes/dislikes about them before giving my plot breakdown at the end. Only the main/prominent ones because I don't have time.
Steve Maryweather-Easily the best character out of them, with Deb being a close second. He could've very easily fallen into the trope of being someone who was incompetent but expected the world anyway, but he doesn't. He graduated top of his class, and despite his quirks is a genuinely competent team leader, and wants the best for his team. He wants to prove that he and his team are competent enough to get recognition, and has a genuine faith in the people around him. It was refreshing to see him hold his team in a genuine high regard, where a lot of times it's like "We're shit but lets do this thing now" He's a genuinely well-rounded character, and (and forgive me if this isn't the best way to frame this) it feels like being gay is an important part of his character, without encompassing the whole thing. I thought Benji and his relationship was super cute and I was sad when they broke up. I was afraid he was going to be, like a second but worse Twink with the stereotyping but gladly fell away from that.
Deb-I thought her and her wife were super cute (though I hate how the wife is designed ngl adjafkldajfd). I liked Debs character, but I feel like she had a lot of racial stereotyping that wouldn't be inherently obvious unless you were looking for them, her being the strong one, and also the "mama" type at the same time. No one treated her with disrespect, and her lesbianism seemed to be more authentic but I feel like there wasn't a lot of thought put into what these tropes were and why they were bad. Her being black and making her the mama type, as well as the big strong type could be read as tasteless. Again, I really liked her character but these were some things I noticed while watching.
Twink- You know, I didn't really like him at first, I thought he was the epitome of all the bad stereotyping (though I'm just glad him and Mary didn't get put into the same category). His humor isn't my taste, and it just kinda seemed like someone for half of his lines went "what twitter stan language can we put in here?" And sometimes it was a bit too random for my tastes. However! I do like that his drag was considered important and was an integral part to a lot of missions they went on, and not just "Ah look at that dumb gay trying to find reasons to dress in drag." His talents and expertise were both respected and, save for Buck (which his whole point was supposed to be offensive anyway) no one undermined Twink for his femininity. His back story is also kinda random but did play a role in the missions as well. Still, personally think he's the worst character. Plus, he's French so minus four-twenties amount of points.
Stat-You know, in a show where everyone was stating what letter they were every few seconds I was surprised that I had to look up that Stat was trans. I...liked her character for the most part, except the part where she was fucking a robot. Kinda weird ngl, outta left field, and with her being trans I wonder if her having that sort of relationship is problematic for her. Love her design tho, love me a hacker girl. She's also listed as "ambiguously gay" tho showed to have mostly girl love interests but, okay.
Buck-He's the straight guy, emotionally repressed haha and he's bigoted. Did think it was funny later on when he was more "accepting" but managed to be even more infuriating about it. Tied with Twink as worse character but you know they tried to do stuff with him.
Vee-Really liked me a boss lady, but kinda weird how they bait-and-switched us with her actually being a lesbian, then go "no she's straight tho" in regards to Karen. I thought her and Mary's relationship was cute, wish I saw more of it. But she did feel like a random plot device in later seasons, what with her disappearing and reappearing when it was plot relevant. (Tho she HOTOHOTHOTHOT bikini episode WOOOWEEEE)
....
Okay, so now the plot....which. it had one?
It felt like it was flip flopping back n forth about whether it wanted to take itself seriously or not, and it seemed to decide on serious more towards the end, but then it would have this random plot element that would be so out of left field it would pull me out of my suspension of disbelief. See the whole "Back cracking to unlock memories" plot point. This back and forth on whether it would be a comedy or not I think weakened both categories it tried to play into.
If I had to compare the show to anything it would probably be Futurama, but the thing with Futurma is, its set in the future, so you're suspension of disbelief is allowed to stretch a bit more because all the wacky quirky stuff can be attributed to future shenanigans. Q-force, to my knowledge, is set in the modern day, which makes the wacky stuff that much wacker, because it's set in our modern times, which you apply the rules of everyday life to.
A lot of the problems that I had with Q-Force is, in the attempt to write specifically about the "gay experience" revealed that the writers have really only had a very specific experience of interacting with gay ppl, what I call the "Urban Gay" experience.
The fact they're in West Hollywood, and all the things that were listed as "universal gay experiences" but were only things that you'd be exposed to if you were in the city. I think a flavor of "white gay" can be implemented here too, which Q force has exactly one black woman, who manages to be the only lesbian.
That coupled with the fact that, there's a difference between having Twink naturally being a drag queen, the whole team being gay to some degree, and the fact they interact with the gay community often without Drawing Attention to all of those things and self-congratulating itself on concluding it. Funnily enough, Q-Force had examples of doing this right and doing this right. Right way: In the second or third episode where Mary found that guy with the flash drive to the uranium in it and seduced him in the gay bar. Relevant that it was gay without overtly drawing attention to it. Wrong-Way: Having Pride go on while Girl Boss was trying to take over the world.
And, for the show that promoted itself as representing the gay experience, there were...two gay men, one lesbian, one trans person, one straight guy and...no bisexual people. Also no nonbinary people. Like of course it's unrealistic to include every single identity but you're one bisexual person who appeared for one episode and was promptly blown up. And also showed to be...more off than the other characters, what with the stealing of silverware and all. Just, bisexual people are already forgotten enough as it is and not including them in the show, but you include two gay men just kinda reads as tasteless to me (as a bisexual person, obviously).
Which makes it so weird that Stat was left "ambiguously gay" when she could've easily been bisexual (which still would be problematic because of the robot-fucking but at least you got the B in there somewhere in the main group)
Overall, it tried to market itself as the "be all end all" of what it was like to be gay, but ended up excluding the exact people that get excluded in real-life lgbt spaces. This combined with the indecision with what kind of show it wanted to be managed to make it fall short. If you arent the very specific type of gay person who lives in a city environment and doesn't fit the stereotypes showed you're not going to feel "seen" by the show.
Weirdly though, I didn't hate watching it, and I would probably watch another season if they managed to make one. The parts that did work, I think worked really well, and even the bad parts just read as tasteless, and not actively terrible. If they focused less on making "hey I'm gay" jokes every three seconds and just let each character be what they are I think the show would be stronger for it. And I think they'd find less problems overall if they did that too. In the mean time I'll just be here side-eyeing the whole thing.
Edit: I forgot to mention, and this is a problem a lot of adult TV shows fall into, that because they got the clear to show nudity/sex they felt like they *had* to show nudity and to a lesser extent sex every episode. So just that whole "Haha adult=sex obviously."
Oh! And this generally goes for the whole "shove it in your face" part, but a lot of the characters who are bigoted were shown to be. Very blatantly so. And not to say there isn't blatantly bigoted ppl of course they are but I don't think that's where you see a lot of bigotry nowadays. This was sort of touched on during the show but more of a jokey manner, but I think it would've been more realistic if we had more "girl with a gay best friend" kinda bigotry as opposed to the "I'm literally hurling slurs at you" bigotry, especially since they're in Cali.
#like its a C+ I think#q-force#criticism#like there's a lot wrong with it but I thought it was kinda charming overall#like. you could have all those things that gays like in these characters but to every three seconds go#'i like this thing because I'm a lesbian'#just kinda got old after a while#juicy takes
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And - final @evanstanweek fic!
Prompt 7, “holidays,” this time...which, um...became International Talk Like A Pirate Day. And implied imminent sex, and piratical roleplay, and terrible, terrible jokes. And maybe something like a marriage proposal. 1,490 words, no warnings.
Read at AO3 here! Or here on tumblr below.
#
“Hey, Seb,” Chris says.
Sebastian, lazily settled against Chris’s chest and halfway through reading a script for a potential upcoming Shakespeare adaptation, looks up and says, “For which of my bad parts didst thou first fall in love with me?”
Chris laughs, and retorts with, “I do love nothing in the world so well as you,” because Chris knows Much Ado About Nothing decently well, too. “Know what day it is?”
“Saturday?”
“Yeah, but also International Talk Like A Pirate Day. Scott just sent me like ten terrible pirate jokes. What does a pirate use his cellphone for?”
“Oh my god,” Sebastian says.
“Booty calls.”
“No.”
“Come on, that was awesome. All of these…arrrr.”
“I’ll divorce you,” Sebastian threatens, not seriously because he’s extremely comfortable right here in morning sunshine on the pillowy sofa with Chris at his back and Dodger draped over their feet.
“You like terrible puns,” Chris says, “I know you do,” and then, “wait, we’re not even married!”
“Exactly,” Sebastian retorts, with emphasis, and goes back to squabbling Shakespearean lovers.
“You’re thinking about us being married.” Chris points a finger at him. “You love me. And the terrible puns.”
“If you say anything about a Jolly Roger,” Sebastian says, “we’re not having sex for like a week.”
“Can I ask if you’re prepared to be boarded?”
Sebastian sighs, sits up, and kisses the love of his life, mostly because that’s always a good distraction. It works like a charm; Chris dives into kissing him and being kissed with every drop of enthusiasm that makes up that huge rainbow-hued exuberant heart.
Kind of unfortunately, Sebastian’s head also briefly pictures Chris in a pirate’s hat. With a parrot.
He resolutely ignores that image, and climbs into Chris’s lap, instead.
Around lunchtime, Chris asks what he feels like as far as food. Sebastian opens his mouth, and then Chris says, “If we were pirates we could get barr-beque,” and Sebastian throws a couch-pillow at him.
Chris apologizes for that one, though he’s laughing. Sebastian sighs.
They get pizza, in the end.
“Hey, Seb,” Chris says later, as they’re turning toward home, out with Dodger in the afternoon breeze, wandering around under trees like ruffled green dancers beneath a big blue sky.
“Don’t you dare,” Sebastian says, hand held securely in Chris’s.
“Why couldn’t the pirates play cards?”
“Because the captain was standing on the deck,” Sebastian says.
Chris’s whole face lights up. “You know that one?”
Sebastian narrows eyes at him. “It was the logical answer!”
“Why’re you anti-pirate?”
“I’m actually not,” Sebastian says. “I’m kind of pro-pirate. Plundering, specifically. Getting, um, pillaged behind that tree.”
“I love your ideas,” Chris agrees, and pushes him up against a friendly tree trunk and kisses him and gets hands all over him, pinning his wrists to tree-bark, sneaking under his shirt, pushing between Sebastian’s thighs, with Chris’s body large and hot and hard and adoring and pressed up against him. They make out in the woods until they’re both breathless and giddy and Sebastian’s about one caress away from coming in his pants, laughing, clinging to Chris, a leaf in his hair and mud on his boots, loving everything about his life.
Chris kind of gives up on the talk-like-a-pirate day jokes, after that. Possibly this is because Sebastian’s distractions via sex have worked, or possibly not; either way, Chris seems apologetic about it, and even makes dinner, one of his mom’s cozy classic pasta recipes. He also opens a new bottle of decently expensive red wine Sebastian hadn’t known they had, and grabs the space-themed wineglass, the one etched with tiny stars.
“I don’t mind your terrible pirate puns,” Sebastian says. Chris prefers beer, he knows.
“Yeah, I know. I don’t know.” Chris shrugs. “Just felt like being nice to you.”
“Why pirate day or whatever it is, again?”
Chris shrugs again. “Just kinda fun? Random?”
Sebastian considers Chris’s face, and the wineglass, and his own love. And then looks down at his toes, and tells Chris, “I’m wearing the wrong socks, then.”
“Huh?”
“Y’know, for the whole pirate thing. They should be, what…arrr-gyle?”
“Oh my god,” Chris says, “I love you, I fucking love you, Seb.”
“I might need more wine,” Sebastian says. “Especially if it’s from the…sand bar.” It’s the actual worst joke he’s ever made.
Chris starts laughing so hard he has to grab the counter, and also Sebastian’s shoulder.
Sebastian grins. Even his socks feel smug.
They’re too full after pasta to do much about pillaging, so they flop down on the sofa and watch a documentary about Mars for a while. Chris gets a fire going, and the wind purrs outside, and Dodger’s snoring in his bed, and it’s so domestic and so perfect that Sebastian’s eyes get a little prickly and his heart feels a little shaky. Sometimes he still can’t believe it: being here, being part of Chris’s life. Himself, Sebastian Stan. Loved so deeply and so well.
Because he loves Chris so damn much, he leans over to bite Chris’s shoulder. Chris grins and pets his hair, and even tugs slightly, because they both know how that dominance goes right to Sebastian’s head and stomach and happy cock; it does now, too, as usual.
“You want me to do something about that,” Chris beckons, “maybe take care of you a little, if you’re needing some attention, Seb?” and his voice turns all low and rumbly and commanding, and fuck yeah, but:
“One sec,” Sebastian announces, and hops up, and runs to their bedroom. He’s got a plan.
He doesn’t have a whole lot that he can work with as far as costumes, pirates not having been a feature of most of his random daydreams, but he’s come up with a few ideas. A loose open white shirt, skinny black pants, a scarf tied around his waist. Some eyeliner. Some of his older jewelry, chunky extravagant rings and necklaces. He grins at himself in the mirror: some sort of haphazard pirate-steampunk-twink grins right back.
He runs back out to the living room, where Chris is sitting up and being kind of puzzled, though that expression shifts the second Sebastian pops back in. Chris groans, “You’re just doing this to fuck with me, now, aren’t you…”
“I was kind of hoping you’d be doing the fucking,” Sebastian says helpfully. “You know. On board with that. You can, um, come bury your…treasure…right here.”
“Jesus,” Chris mutters, but he’s shaking his head, smiling, trying not to laugh. “Okay, okay, point made. Got it. Aye, captain. Or something.”
“You’re right,” Sebastian says. “This is fun. Come claim my booty. Your booty. However that works. I’m all yours anyway.” He is. Body, heart, soul: everything he’s got, everything he is. He’s Chris’s.
“I love you.” Chris gets up and comes over, hands settling on Sebastian’s shoulders, drawing him in close. “Where’d you find the scarf?”
“It’s an old one. I thought maybe you could tie me up with it. Bend me over the bed—the railing, the captain’s bunk, whatever—and have your way with me.”
“Are you the pirate, or am I?”
“Maybe I’m your captive,” Sebastian considers. “You know, the dashing daring pirate adventurer that you keep chasing, good upright naval officer that you are, and you’ve finally caught me.”
“And I’m about to do everything I can think of to you,” Chris jumps in. “Make you beg for mercy. Make you bend over for me, and spread those pretty legs. Make you take my cock, and like it.” His hand lifts Sebastian’s chin, fingers biting down: not too hard, and he’s grinning, eyes made of wicked loving conspiratorial blue. “That what you had in mind?”
“Totally,” Sebastian says. “I mean, aye. Yarr. Yo, ho, ho, and rum, and all that. I think I like your holiday. Um. Chris?”
“Yeah?” Chris’s thumb strokes his cheek, too gently for an angry naval officer. “Somethin’ you need, before I haul you off to my cabin?”
“What I said earlier,” Sebastian says, “about being married to you…about us getting married…I mean, this isn’t me asking, it’ll be way more perfect whenever that happens, don’t worry, but…I just wanted to say…yeah. I do think about that. I kind of think about that a lot. I want all the weird random holidays with you. Forever.”
Chris’s smile’s so wide and bright that it fills up the world, every fantasy and every holiday all rolled into one expression. His hand’s still cupping Sebastian’s face; the other comes to rest on Sebastian’s hip, over the scarf, with something like reverence. He says, “Guess what, Seb.”
“Something about pirates and being a good…mate?”
“Well, yeah, obviously that. My mate.” Chris leans in to kiss him; Sebastian’s entire body thrills to the claiming. “But also…we’ve been pretty much thinking the same things, about that. If you were wondering. I want all the weird random holidays and terrible puns and fucking perfect pirate role-play, forever, with you.”
#evanstan#evanstan week#evanstan week 2021#my fic#holidays#talk like a pirate day#proposals#these boys
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Hi!! Do you know any well written mpreg fics?? <3 thanks for the help!!
Here you are! (Just a heads up, be sure to send this as an ask next time instead of a submission!)
Apha Red and An Off White Moon by ScarredMuzzle (General | Complete | 4.5K)
Tags: Established Relationship, Angst with a Happy Ending, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, True Mates
Summary:The first big supermoon is coming up and the Alpha Red pack needs to prepare for what might happen with the kids.
A Peek Inside:Liam shoved the last bag into the trunk and slammed it, willing everything to stay put. With everyone packing for a long weekend, both the minivan and Theo’s truck was loaded with bags. He felt the slight prickle under his skin, the aching reason that they were even taking a trip up to Lydia’s quiet lakehouse. Clearly the kids were feeling it too.
Little Paws by louis_wife505 (Not Rated | WIP | 35K)
Tags: MPREG, smut, enemies to friends to lover
Summary: Theo and Liam have a one night stand. They thought they could ignore it and forget it happened but fate has different plans.
A Peek Inside: It didn't take a genius to tell Liam was uncomfortable with her coming on to them. Theo figured the girl would leave them alone if she thought they were a couple. Unfortunately she wasn't convinced with just Theo's verbal claim. "Excuse us. Babe let's dance."
Fuck Food Lion okay? by synfulshark (Mature | Complete | 1.6K)
Tags: Liam mpreg
Summary: Liam doesn't feel great and want's Theo to make him one of his favorite home made meals so he does, but he finds out he doesn't have exactly what he needs so he has to go on a grocery run to aldi. His and Liam's go to for grocery supplies but they don't have one thing they need so he has to go to....food Lion.
A Peek Inside: He scanned till he found Isaac's and he typed out a fast reply as he waited.
ScarffyWolfBitch: Whatcha up to?
SexyAssHellBitch: Aldi, Liam was hungry as fuck so he sent me to get food,
ScarffyWolfBitch: What he want this time? Jesus didn't they kick you out of there for talking about killing people?
Knot The Brightest Idea by Haikyuuties_baeritto123 (Explicit | Complete | 2.6K)
Tags: Knotting, outdoor sex, implied mpreg
Summary: In retrospect, it probably wasn’t Theo’s brightest idea to get both he and Liam riled up before meeting the pack at the park.
But the little wolf was just so easy to get flustered and Theo doesn’t pass up any opportunity to make Liam blush such a pretty shade of red. But perhaps this time he’s taken it a little too far.
A Peek Inside: Theo melts and completely forgets about his phone; letting it rest on the bench beside them in order to get a good grip on Liam’s hips. The kiss is desperate and over quickly when Liam pulls back to whimper “Can’t wait”
Theo does a quick survey of the area. It’s late at night so there isn’t anyone around, and the bench they are sat on is secluded from the majority of the path…but they could still get caught.
Woohoo by Shipper_trash (Teen | Complete | 1.1K)
Tags: Omega Liam, alpha Theo
Summary: This is a future fic, in the same 'verse as this: Get Together!!
A Peek Inside: “We should seriously start watching something else,” Erica complains, shoving at Lydia who is giving her a glare. Even with tears running down her face, she looks scary. Stiles is impressed.
There is a murmur of agreement among the group of friends. Tissues are distributed, faces cleaned before Allison, Kira and Isaac decide to clean up the mess of plates and glasses on the too small coffee table. Stiles decides to help out by dialing up the pizza place’s number which they all love and ordering their usual. The lady on the other end knows the order by heart and he only has to say his name before she confirms the order and the price.
Cracks in the surface by eliottsevak (Teen | Complete | 1.3K)
Tags: Twink Liam
Summary: Theo got Liam pregnant, then Kira sent him to hell.
A Peek Inside: Liam knew it bordered on psychotic that Liam still found Theo to be a good person despite Theo trying to tear apart his pack and kill his alpha, but something was tugging himself to the older chimera.
Troubles (Yeah, Troubles Now) by NekoAliceYamiYaoi (Teen | Complete | 16K)
Tags: Married Thiam, Nolan is Thiam’s adopted kid, angst with a happy ending, references to cheating but no actual cheating
Summary: In all of his almost 6 years of life, Nolan never thought that he would be so afraid. And here we was, standing in front of the completely torn and with stenches of ink all over it dress that aunt Lydia had bought a few days ago.
A Peek Inside: Nolan had only wanted to look at the dress because it had beautiful flowers in it. As he entered his dads room, he noticed Lydia's clean clothes on top of the bed, perfectly folded. He was touching the soft clothing -since his dads room had a big mirror behind the door- when he looked down and saw a spider -a big spider, not a tiny one- walking towards his feet. He screamed in fear and threw his hands up in the air, but had forgotten that he was holding the dress over his hands. He looked up as the dress flew in the air and landed in one of the blades of the ceiling fan, twirling around the room for a few seconds before the fan in a quick motion threw the dress to the boudoir where Liam kept a small portion of ink and it splattered all over the dress.
“Hello, Daddy.” by Katherin_Ravenlin (Teen | WIP | 13K)
Tags: Break up, angst, alpha Liam, creepy, beating, misunderstandings, graphic depictions of violence, underage, rape/non-con
Summary: Theo is already mated to Liam, they are spending their last high school year together and planning to go to college, the pack seemed to accept that they are together and Theo has big plans for their last prom - when Hayden comes back in town. The distance starts to grow between the Babywolf and the First Chimera, accusations start to settle in between them as Hayden's abusive boyfriend could be watching from any dark corner and somebody from the pack keeps leaking information about the hiding girl's whereabouts. But who is the one doing it?
A Peek Inside: Laying on his back in the damp grass wasn't what Theo considered a good time. However, Liam curled up on his chest, cuddling into him stroking his skin like some kind of treasure while watching the sundown on the edge of a clearing far away from the city made it a quite okay experience. Liam nuzzles into his chest and hugs him a pit tighter, and Theo thinks, that getting his clothes damp is worth it, after all.
A Little Thing Called Love by Lanceiferroar (Explicit | Complete | 23K)
Tags: Major character death, strangers to lovers, smut
Summary: Liam Dunbar moves to Beacon Hills and never expects his life would change this much.
A Peek Inside: Liam looked as they pulled up to their new house. “We’re here!” Liam’s mom said. Liam looked and saw the house. It was two floors, a nice yard, and an in ground pool. At least he had that going for him. He could work on his tan and lay by the pool. Maybe this life would not be too bad. Liam walked into the house and found his new room. It was surprisingly better than his room back home. He had a walk in closet and his own bathroom. No more waiting for mom or dad to get out. He could go whenever he needed to and take as long of showers as he wanted to.
Creating Beauty From Mistakes by awesomerosie (Mature | WIP | 31K)
Tags: Fluff and Humor, mentions of abuse, Starvation, mention of suicide
Summary: The Dread Doctors did more than mess with Theo's status as a human, they messed with his status as a man too.
A Peek Inside: Liam stood in the corner, gaping like a fish.
Theo was going to kill him. He was going to drag him into the woods and beat him to death. It would take a while, a long while, but he would do it; he was just that enraged.
Liam stepped closer, immediately flinching away from Theo’s snarl.
At first, Theo thought he was just getting fat, but then a few days ago he started hearing a faint thumping following him. For all he knew, he had grown another heart or something, and in a way, he had.
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that's why i hate larries, i hate them with all my heart. besides being boring they are hypocrites 🙄
Hey nonnie, sorry its taken me so long to reply but if you’re following me you know I’ve been travelling lately and have been more scatterbrained than usual. Not that I’m ever not scatterbrained, but its been just a little crazier than usual!
Now I wouldn’t go as far to say I hate Larries. After all their delusions can be pretty funny sometimes!
Joking aside, I don’t hate Larries, I love Larries, I’m a Larry, so I really hesitate to tarry the whole group with the same brush. However I do strongly agree with you that there are those who are complete hypocrites. Nothing annoys more more than when Larries ™ treat the other boys, other celebrities, their friends and even family as one more side character to the Larry Show.
In particular when Larries ™ flood comment sections asking or in some cases, ordering people to confirm rumors/the couple being together. The absolute fucking disrespect. Not just because they’re flooding comment sections in videos streams, tweets, what have you, that sometimes have nothing to do with the couple in question, but because its presumptuous and rude as fuck to think they’re owed a coming out- just because they’re fans of the boys.
Stop it. Thats fucking ugly as hell.
While I have no doubt all the boys will one day be out (as referenced by their continued efforts in fighting the closet. I don’t get the sense the boys will just stop at being freed from their contractual obligations). It should and will be on their own terms. Provided they’re not forcibly outed some other way.
Coming out is a deeply personal experience and no one, no one ever, has the right to out someone else. I’ll never not be absolutely furious at the Larries ™ who posted about having ‘receipts’ that would out the boys. Which… tbh weren’t receipts at all but thats a whole other story. I’m also still angry at the reactions after Liams Attitude spread that wouldn’t have been as bad if not for the entitled fandom that peddled ridiculous claims beforehand about Liam confirming Larry to be real.
I mean… What the actual fuck. Setting aside the fandom experience of the time, and boy was it an experience. What right would Liam have confirming Louis and Harry’s relationship? I mean, get some perspective? It doesn’t help that a lot of fandom adults were the ones coming up with, and reblogging those theories and the younger fans ate it up. It would have made more sense for Louis and Harry to do it but idk maybe I’m still out of touch for thinking so. I mean, it felt like every other week someone was talking about Larry coming out. It was such a shit storm oh my god.
Biggest issue I still have with them is that the entitled behaviour hasn’t stopped. For some it seems like, Larry coming out is it for them. Like pack it up, goodbye, shows over, Louis and Harry are gay and in a relationship and everything is rainbows, we get to see cute pictures of them and everyone lives happily ever after.
Yeah, no. Coming out, for anyone, is just the beginning, can’t even begin to imagine what its like for them. They’re still going to need everyones support, and it irritates me that for some fans it seems so fucking conditional.
Time and time again, I’ve seen tweets, and posts, and videos, whatever, going on about Larry coming out and it reads like a fucking wattpad story. Not just that but its always on the assumption by the poster, on the off chance they consider the other 3/5ths of the band and Ziam being a possibility, that Larry will come out first?
What?
I’m sorry but, what?
Everything I’ve seen from the boys tells me they’re all in this together, they support each other and are working through the bullshit as a team. We have all seen the No Judgement music video yes? The merch, posts, double speak etc referencing each other, yes?
I mean, I suppose if you only look at Louis and Harry, like so many do, sure. Only Larry matters, everyone else is a side character in their life.
(Lemme just, scream for a second).
However, that kind of thinking leads them to the wrong conclusions. Like… assuming the SBB/RBB countdown was attributed to nothing, when it counted down to Liam finally being free of Sophia. In the years since, I’ve seen Larries ™ backtrack on claiming the bears had anything to do with the boys, that they weren’t behind it at all, or that they were just trolling the fandom.
You know, despite all the proof otherwise, and some really, really good posts breaking down clues about what the boys were trying to tell us. The moment something might not actually be about Louis and Harry its like all their thinking shuts off. Its frustrating. Really fucking frustrating.
Seriously, fans of the other boys as individulas, not just Ziams, have been talking about the stunts too and how they fit together. Its why we tend to be right, because we’re considering the entire group. They’re still a group. They’re not free until all of them are free.
Just for that Nialls coming out first. Lmao. I’ll call it now. Lets go Niall, whens the baby coming. We all wanna know. Its been years.
Imagine, imagine! Acting like coming out is some race to be won. The fucking audacity.
Go outside and touch fucking grass you absoulte ninny.
I get it, you want to be vindicated, you want to be rewarded for putting your faith in two celebrities being together.
Newsflash you dandelionfluff, its not a race, Louis and Harry coming out isn’t a fucking prize. Thats not what supporting a relationship looks like.
Its worse when someone admits they don’t know much about Ziam or the possibility of Niall being LGBT+, and claim they’re open to it, but then immediately tweet or reblog or sub tweet or tag comment a post or answer an ask from another Larry ™ talking about how Larries ™ are the most marginalized and persecuted group.
???
In what fucking world?
IN WHAT FUCKING WORLD?
If we wanna play that game, boohoo, the media claims Louis and Harry aren’t friends anymore because of crazy shippers. Meanwhile Zayn publicly isn’t friend with anyone and “left” the band… despite the Ziam fandom calling the stunt about either Louis or Zayn “leaving” and getting it down to the exact week (the second article coming out a week before about the Ziam kiss pretty much cemented it for Zayn leaving. Which did a lot to fan the flames of the already rabid fanbase when Ziam got two articles confirming a Ziam kiss over the years and Larry got nada. Like that actually means anything).
Not to mention Larries ™ using the hetties and management tactics against the other parts of the fandom to silence them.
Who cares what the media says anyway! TPTB, 1DHQ, The Sun, The Mirror, Simon and his minions and their unpaid interns have used the media to split the fandom apart and it worked.
Who the fuck cares if the media calls the 1D stans delusional, you know the truth! The truth it out there and you’ve seen it! The truth is coming! Who gives a damn about what some two bit “journo” who failed out of their creative writing course writes? They get worse by the year. If it wasn’t so pathetic and hilarious I might actually feel embarrassed for them. They can’t even come up with new stories and have just taken to copying old articles, but you’re upset with them??? Give it a rest. Honestly.
The sense of disconnect, entitlement and victimhood of some Larries ™ is absolutely ridiculous.
Oh my god they’re Karens. I’m not trying to be insulting, but thats exactly who they remind me of.
I’m not going to say its a surprise to me that so many in the Ziam fandom are POC, LGBT+, and Neurodivergent and any combination of those, but I am going to say I’ve read a lot of Larry fics that just have Het sex made gay. Those in the Ziam fandom just tend to look at facts in a different way than Larries do due to their life experiences. A interfaith, interracial, relationship where one or both partners fall under the Bi umbrella (not saying Louis or Harry can’t be or aren’t Bi+ but rumors, and the way the fandom markets them, puts them firmly in the gay category) looks very, very different than gay or straight relationship. Both looking from outside and being in one. There’s just different dynamics at play that aren’t often realized or understood by the gays and hets.
Its not a bad thing. All relationships are different. The issue is that theres a lot of biphobia/racism/religious prejudice etc that arises from people being unwilling to understand the inherent differences.
Taking myself for example, I’m bi, like, bi as hell, and I don’t understand how gays and hets only like one gender. I just don’t. Can’t wrap my head around it. If someone asks me to choose one gender over the others to prefer I can’t. Its so stressful. My brain goes into panic mode and it feels like I’m being torn apart. My sense of identity is shaken- its a shit feeling. I just can’t lie to myself like that. If other people feel the same well, its no wonder bi+ have such high rates of depression and suicide. Its not about choosing who to like, there is no choice, I just feel attraction to everyone. Aces, I get. Its similar to being the opposite of what I feel, or not feeling an attraction to someone I’m not interested in. Easy. Gays and hets? I’m completely lost on.
Completely, and I know I’m not the only one who feels that way. But that doesn’t mean I’m not willing to try and understand where they’re coming from. Its alien to me, personally, but I’m not going to shut down the fact, that theres a fuck ton of people who only like one gender or try and make up reasons as to why they’re actually bi+
I digress, none of the boys fall neatly into the gay stereotypes, its just that parts of the Larry fandom have boxed Louis and Harry into certain roles to fit preconceived notions (likely do to them initially fitting in better with the white, sassy, somewhat effeminate twink thats been plastered all over Hollywood as their “LGBT+ representation” for years. Gag), they can understand better, and only look for proof to back up their theories but don’t look at things objectively.
They really need to get out more and make some LGBT+ friends that aren’t on the internet and talk to some gay elders. They need educating that’s not the often sanitized and insulting Hollywood version, that’s all I’m saying.
They made Louis and Harry more palatable for themselves and its… really gross.
I don’t know, I don’t get it.
Some Larries ™ turned the boys into their fandom and fanfiction stereotypes when they’re so much more than that. The Sony leaks should have been enough to dissuade the fandom, and prove that the brand sold to the broader audience is just that- a brand, and yet… Niall only talks about food and golf and Ireland and is only allowed to be straight or ace. If he exists at all its just to be Capt Niall. Liams slow and dumb and depending on the day he’s either Capt Liam or a horrific abusive homophobe. Zayns just The Worst, a unstable drug addict, and the boys hate each other, and they should have kicked him out of the band sooner because he never wanted to be part of them anyway, etc.
It drives me absolutely around the bend some days. They’re real people who don’t owe anyone anything, especially not coming out.
Yes, I think they will. But they’re not obligated to. They can change their minds, I’ll support them regardless of an “official” coming out or not.
Look, a part of me gets it. They wanna be right, they wanna prove the haters wrong, they want to be able to say I called it all along! The vindication will be sweet.
But like, it takes a quick look at someone other than Louis and Harry to realize theres something hinky going on with Liam, Zayn and Niall. Please listen to their fans who have spent just as much time as you have looking into Louis and Harry compiling together evidence.
It might take a weekend to watch the ILYSM and pterodactyl bros videos and a few more hours looking into some Niall blogs, which isn’t much compared to the hours I know they’ve spent looking into Larry. At least then they’ll have enough information to form an opinion on things.
I wonder, for some, what would happen if Larry didn’t come out, or didn’t come out first, or one of the other boys was outed against their will. Because… I don’t know. It seems like some would rather just be proven right at this point.
I get it. We’re tired. Its been eleven long years. But this isn’t a television show were everything can come to a head with a s3 or s4 cliff hanger and fixed in the series finale. Its real life, and they started off as boys trusting industry veterans who never had their best interests at heart.
Iduno. I just want some Larries ™ to take a step out of the echo chamber, realize life isn’t The Larry Show & co. And especially. ESPECIALLY, that every instance were someone, friends, family, co-works, industry peeps etc support the boys they are SUPPORTING THE BOYS, NOT THE FANDOM. They are not “confirming Larry for the fans” they’re doing it to support the couple, not to cater to the fandom. Please stop confusing the two. There’s a huge fucking difference. Learn it.
#Honestly it should be the Liam Payne the three guys who’ve had a crush on him and the one who married him.#aka the hill I'll die on#lmao#sorry not sorry#IM SORRY IT LOOKS LIKE I HAD A LOT MORE TO SAY ABOUT THIS THAN I THOUGHT I WOULD#ASDFGHJKL;#also please don't think I'm calling anyone out specifically#these are a lot of generalizations and trends I've noticed after being in fandom for nearly 11 years they pop up all the damn time#circles we're just going in circles#I've been following Ziam in particular since the Nov 2011 interview#but suspected Liam had a crush sometime before when I saw a gifset of him talking about Zayns birthday presentsbc he as acting the exact sa#e way I was when I was crushing on a girl I knew#I saw myself in him and ignored it for another day#lmaooo#ziam#larry tunnel vision#larry vs ziam#Larry vs Niall#fandom bs#ask
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PFFFFFFT WAIT REALLY?! Listen hurt/comfort is my fav trope, I CAN KEEP GOING. NO LIES. Alright then here's another one! I think KuzuKomaHina would be interesting here, but if you're not comfortable with that then just Komahina is also great! (I'm a multishipper and my pain is immense. Gotta spread the love.) This could be either Non-despair...or Pre-despair depending on how much you wanna kill people. Heehee.
Hinata and Izuru are twins and both go to Hope's Peak, Izuru in the main course and Hinata in the reserve course. Hinata meets Izuru's hell class and they all warm up to him eventually, plus they feel bad for him. Izuru's an overgrown cat and Hinata's basically his babysitter, god bless his soul. Everything's somewhat hunky dory, because that Reserve vs Main course divide creates enough tension to be a problem. Then main class 78 is assembled, and Junko's batshit crazy and ready to drum up despair.
She still decides to try and break class 77, throw suspicion off of her and Mukuro, but there aren't any obvious cracks to be exploited within the class...until she sees the bonds they've all made with Hinata, Natsumi, and Sato. So Junko starts doing her despair schtick with those three, but mainly Hinata. I mean, mentally breaking the brother of the Ultimate Hope AND the boyfriend of one or two of the Ultimate Hope's classmates AT THE SAME TIME? That's the best first round of despair you can get, so Junko goes hard and all-in from the get-go with Hinata. She also starts with Natsumi and Sato, because their past is ROUGH and a great second round of despair for class 77.
But Hinata is her main focus. And when Hinata starts acting weird, class 77 don't know what's going on. Whether they figure out and save Hinata from Junko's plan or fall to Junko's game one by one is up to you...
multishipping is where it’s AT babeeey. i ship both hajime and fuyuhiko with ANYBODY that makes them happy, that’s it that’s my thing. and i like komahina. i like kuzuhina. kuzukomahina? that sounds IDEAL.
but oh man i love hajime and izuru being brothers? like, so much? and hajime as an honorary/adopted member of class 77b? my FRIEND this is too good.
izuru is 100% the first to notice what’s up. he lives with hajime, sees him all the fucking time, and on top of everything is the ultimate Everything. he doesn’t know WHAT’S up with hajime, but he does notice that hajime’s colder and spending less time with everybody. he blows off fuyuhiko and nagito (and they both take it VERY differently. nagito’s like “ah, it seems I’m not even good enough for a reserve course student, I am a bug!” and fuyuhiko is pissed off and basically yells at izuru to get his fucking brother in check), but then when they do see him he’s all weird and shit both fuyuhiko and nagito start hatching a plan to figure out what’s going on. izuru is in on it, because that’s his brother and he hates not knowing shit.
so uh, basically they start stalking hajime. they follow him around, take notes, like if this wasn’t his boyfriends and his brother this would be creepy as shit. slowly people start to ask where hajime is, or what’s up with him because like... dude’s usually one of the nicest motherfuckers out there and he’s gotten really fucking blunt recently. hell, sometimes he even gets mean, agreeing with nagito about him being worthless, that kinda shit and that’s when everybody really notices something is UP.
it ends up essentially becoming a class-wide thing, where they all report back to either izuru, nagito or fuyuhiko after seeing hajime. izuru is kinda the brains here, taking all the information he can get and analysing it, but it’s nothing he’s seen before ever.
and then one day, everybody’s wandering around the school grounds, and finds the stairway. when the walk through there, which is hajime’s idea, he disappears. like, off the face of the earth. it basically runs the same way as in the anime when chiaki is captured by junko, but instead he’s there willingly to show everybody he loves this beautiful thing called despair. he knows he’s going to die, and he loves it.
as shown previously though, izuru can’t be kept in one place if he doesn’t want to be there. ultimate escape artist who? anyway, when he hears junko’s voice, he knows what the fuck is up, he knows some shit’s about to go down if they don’t intervene immediately. the man manages to get them out of there, and starts running. everybody’s running with him (except for teruteru who’s complaining that he’s too short to go as fast as everybody else lmao). unfortunately, this is not anime izuru and he doesn’t know the layout of the place, but he does remember exactly where hajime disappeared and uses that to help him.
when they do find hajime, he’s basically bleeding out and he’s fucking pleased about it. he starts saying a load of really mean shit to fuyuhiko and nagito, how he hates them and shit, and it’s taking everything for fuyuhiko not to just deck him. yeah he’s dying, but he’s also being a massive douche?
most of the class carry hajime to the nurse’s office, so that mikan can stabilise him. izuru, nagito and fuyuhiko absolutely have more business in this building. using some logic that i am too tired to figure out because it’s nearly 6 in the morning rn they find junko, who blames mukuro entirely for everything going wrong. it isn’t mukuro’s fault, but that’s not the point here at all. she’s got the brainwashing video ready anyway, and starts going to play it when nagito just fuckin tackles her. this scrawy twink literally throws himself at junko at full force. fuyuhiko is restraining mukuro and izuru stops the video from playing.
back with hajime, when they were transporting him back to somewhere that he can be treated properly, juzo probably saw them and went in to try and find junko because they’ve got their whole thing. he walks in to find a skinny twink and a shortass restraining the Ultimate Despairs, and the human embodiment of a cat fucking with a brainwashing video. it would be hilarious if a student didn’t nearly just die.
either way, hajime gets stabilised but he’s still Royally Fucked Up and has to be basically restrained to stop him from trying to get back to Junko. Junko and Mukuro get fucking arrested (this will later cause media uproar because everybody loves Junko, but that’s not the focus here), and Izuru has to come up with a way to fix his brother.
I’m gonna leave that here because I need fukin SLEEP and maybe come back to it when I’m less dead but i am a sucker for a happy ending after a load of angst so for now ya get a happy(ish) ending, with everybody alive! for now!
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Flaming Hearts - A Nalu Fanfiction
Chapter One
“Yes, yes, exactly like that, Miss Lucy. Perfect!” The photographer cheered, changing his own position with every picture he took. Lucy was currently in a studio, white linen behind her and giant lights in front of her to cast the perfect scenery for the beautiful dress she was displaying: a dark red one, that was bound in a chokehold around her neck and had a high slit on each thigh. She wore high heels in the exact same shade of red and translucent white gloves that reached up to her upper arms, but no jewellery. The photographer had decided that Lucy’s own beauty was already splendid enough. She had just giggled and told him to stop making her blush.
“And now put a hand on your hip! Pout! Smile! Squat down! Perfect, Miss Lucy. You are fantastic!”
She might have looked good, but Lucy still felt like she was a mannequin in a showcase. She didn’t really like the photo shootings for all the magazines, though she enjoyed wearing the new dresses. She would much rather have met her friends for a cup of tea or simply read a book today, since it was Sunday, but her father had insisted on her to go. He said it was good for publicity, and Lucy knew that every time he spoke of publicity any fight from her side was useless.
Jude Heartfilia was a businessman, after all. As the head of the great Heartfilia Konzern, a company that produced and distributed all kinds of chemical products, from medicine over skin care to make up, he had little time for his family, which in this place consisted of just Lucy. Her mother had died years before, and Lucy just couldn’t shake the feeling that her death was part of the reason why her father avoided her company so much and would rather work every waking minute. After all, she looked exactly like her mother Layla. Same big brown eyes, glowing blonde hair, curvy figure. It was genetics, really, though Lucy made sure to support those lucky genes with a healthy diet and lots of exercise.
»One last dress, Miss Lucy. We’re almost done.” The photographer announced and she went back to her room to get changed. That was part of the deal they had made. Lucy stood model for the dresses, but she would still get her privacy while getting changed. She had never liked to get changed in front of others, not even the maids who would help her into the complicated dresses for her father’s parties, so it was a relief that she could do it by herself here.
The new dress was of a light rosé colour, with a heart shaped décolleté and reaching down to her shins. The bodice was tight around her chest until her waist, and changed then to a flowing skirt embroidered with beautiful flowers and butterflies. It was more comfortable than the red one, though the high heeled sandals that came with it were anything but that.
“I’m ready.” She called, and a girl entered to change her make up from the darker tones for the red dress to lighter ones that suited the light one. She also changed her hair into a half-up-half-down style and curled the flowing locks with a curling iron.
“Here you go, beautiful as always.” The girl smiled, and Lucy smiled back. The last dress took the longest to photograph, probably because it suited her the best, much to her dismay. She had been sick of modelling already when they were only at the second dress.
When the shooting was finally over, and Lucy had changed back into her own black shirt and red skirt, combined with a pair of black over knees and a red purse, the photographer held her up one last time, shaking her hand enthusiastically.
“Thank you so much for coming today, Miss Lucy. I’m really looking forward to the article The Sorcerer Weekly will write. Hopefully, we will have once again the pleasure of working together!” He chattered cheerfully, but even though Lucy gave him a nod and a polite smile, she couldn’t share his enthusiasm. The Sorcerer Weekly might have been a big number regarding celebrities and business people, but when it came to women their portraits were rather sexist. They wrote about their skin care routines or what their secrets for their perfect bodies were, which wasn’t a wrong thing to do, but still quite annoying when it was the only thing they wrote about women when at the same time they asked men about the secrets to their success or what they would recommend young businesspeople to boost their own businesses.
Photoshoots like that always drained her and she couldn’t quite comprehend what could be so interesting about her showing off dresses she would never wear again. She had a great body, so what? So had countless other women. It wasn’t even an achievement, just lucky genetics. That was what she disliked the most, wasn’t it? Everyone cared for her beauty and her seemingly perfect body, but nobody really acknowledged her brains. Lucy was smart. She loved to read, and she studied astronomy for fun alongside physics and chemistry, which she needed to take over the company one day. Many of her teachers had said that her intelligence was way above the average, and she quite prided herself in that. It bothered her that all those magazines and talk shows only cared about her looks and whether she had already found a husband or not. She wasn’t even looking for a husband, and would much rather spend another few years realizing herself, but she was well aware of her role as an idol. And she didn’t like the fact that all those young girls only ever got to see her beauty, but never once heard a word of her intelligence. She would love to show them how important it was to cultivate one’s intellect or to care about one’s grades rather than their looks.
“Miss Lucy, are you ready to leave?” The driver asked politely, shaking Lucy out of her thoughts. She hadn’t even realized that she was already standing by the edge of the street, in front of the car door he held open for her. She nodded and gave him a small smile, before she entered.
Once the car started, she decided to check her phone, feeling a little lighter at the sight of the messages her friends had sent during her shooting in their group chat Fairy Tail. She didn’t even remember how they had found such a strange name, but she didn’t really mind. It sounded funny, and thoughtless, and so unlike everything else in her life.
Levy: sent a picture
Levy: Hey Ladies, what do you think of that? It’s a party thrown by Sting Eucliffe, this super-hot singer I was telling you about. It’s this weekend, and the perfect opportunity for a girl’s night out.
Upon further inspection the picture Levy had sent was, in fact, a flyer, held in silver, blue and purple tones and with a picture of Sting Eucliffe himself up front, showing a wide smile and finger guns. On it there were written his name, the date, and the location.
Juvia: Yes! I’d love to come! I even heard he’s single!
Erza: Isn’t that that blonde twink who only recently left Sabertooth to become a solo artist? What a snob.
Levy: Yes, exactly. Except, he’s not a twink, Erza! He sings really good, and not even you can deny that he’s good-looking.
Juvia: He has a voice like an angel, you uncultured strawberry!
Lucy let out a chuckle before replying. The bickering of her friends always eased her tight nerves a bit.
Lucy: I’d love to come, but I’m afraid my father won’t let me… He doesn’t like such events.
Erza: Then we’ll sneak you out, like we did before.
Levy: Of course! We can’t go without you, Lu!
Juvia: And we’ll dress you up again, so that nobody recognizes you. You still got the wig, don’t you?
Lucy: Of course I still got the wig, you guys gifted it to me. I would never throw that away!
Levy: Naww, you’re so cute!
Lucy: But do you think that will be enough to hide me from the paparazzi?
Erza: Of course, and if anything happens, we will cover for you to run away.
Juvia: Yes!
Lucy: Thanks, guys! This means the world to me!
Smiling, she put her phone away. They were already driving up the lane that led to her estate.
When the car halted, a maid was already there to open the car door for Lucy, and she gave her a gratuitous smile, before climbing up the steps to where another maid, Leto, was waiting.
“Welcome home, Miss Lucy. How was your photoshoot?” She smiled politely and made a small bow.
“I’m glad to see you too, Leto. The photoshoot was alright, I guess. The photographer was very enthusiastic.” Lucy answered with just the same polite smile, though it seemed a little tired.
“Aren’t they always?” Leto said warmly, and Lucy nodded in agreement. They were, and she wasn’t sure if it was because of her name or if they acted like this around any kind of celebrity.
“Seems so.”
“Mr Heartfilia is in his study. He wanted you to join him there as soon as you came back from your photoshoot.”
“Did he say why?” Lucy sighed, mentally already preparing for the uncomfortable encounter. It was almost noon, and all she wanted was to get back to her studies and maybe eat a bite. She had a big project coming up and didn’t want to waste any more time by doing pointless stuff like being photographed and complimented.
“I am afraid not, Miss Lucy, but he does have guests.” Leto answered as she led her up the stairs, feeling sorry for the girl. She knew her all too well, knowing how busy her life was and how little room she had for herself.
“Guests? Anyone I know?” This caught Lucy’s attention. Guests at the estate were rather unusual, and when there were any, she never got to meet them on purpose. She had once accidentally encountered a business partner of her father, who was storming off due to some deal that hadn’t worked out the way he had wanted to. After his temper tantrum Jude decided to hold meetings of that kind in the company rather than at his own home.
“I don’t think so, Miss. They arrived right after you left, and have been exploring the house since, but I don’t recall having seen them around here before.” Leto explained and made a small bow when they arrived at the doors to Jude Heartfilia’s study. Lucy took a deep breath and knocked, wondering about why her father’s guests would roam around the house. Did he hire a new team of bodyguards?
“Yes?” Jude’s voice sounded, and she entered.
The study was big, with high ceilings and made of dark wood. It was full of bookshelves and diplomas hanging on the walls. In the middle, right in front of a giant window, was Jude Heartfilia’s heavy wooden desk, and behind it, in a big leather chair, sat the man himself. He wore a dark brown suit, his blond hair, that was just a little darker than Lucy’s, combed back meticulously, and his piercing gaze directed right at her. It made her feel immediately uncomfortable, since usually he barely looked up from his work when he requested to talk to her. But today everything seemed to be different.
“Ah, Lucy. You’re back.” He stated and Lucy nodded, averting her eyes.
“Yes, father.”
Only then did she see the woman sitting in one of the heavy chairs across from Jude. She had big blue eyes and gorgeous white locks, which she had bound up in a high ponytail. They must be dyed, Lucy thought to herself, because the woman could only be a few years older than her. She gave Lucy a welcoming smile as she took in her black turtleneck and suit. As far as Lucy could see, she wore a skirt that fitted the blazer rather than pants.
A little farther, half hidden in the shadows of the bookshelves, Lucy spotted a man, wearing a black long-sleeved sweater and dark grey cargo pants. He had his arms crossed behind his back, and apart from his salmon-coloured hair Lucy couldn’t recognise anything about his face.
“This is Miss Mirajane Strauss, head of Strauss and Co.” Jude introduced the white-haired woman who in turn stood up and held her hand out for Lucy to shake. Frowning, she took it and realized that the woman would be visibly higher than her even without her heels.
“Strauss and Co. as in the security agency?”
“Exactly. I feel flattered that you have heard of us already.”
“Only bits. I have heard you’re supposed to be the best.” Lucy smiled, meaning her words as a challenge. When she could get rid of those who claimed to be the best, her father would be out of options.
Mirajane returned a smile so sickly sweet that Lucy knew she had understood the meaning of her words exactly but didn’t take it as an insult. That was interesting. “That is what people say, though I would not be so audacious as to say so myself. I like to let my records speak and my clients decide.”
“I have hired Miss Strauss and her people because of certain threats I have been receiving lately, and since I will be gone more often for business trips in the near future.” Jude explained and watched Mirajane stand by the side of his desk.
“Death threats?” Lucy questioned, not quite comprehending the reason for the sudden situation just yet. But death threats were nothing unusual among their circles, so what could have been so bad that he hired someone like Mirajane Strauss?
“Among other things, yes. In order to not restrict your freedom, they will accompany you every time you leave the estate and will guard the estate itself at all times, too.” In order not to restrict your freedom, Lucy could have barked out a laugh. Jude did not care for her freedom, he cared for her publicity meetings, for photoshoots and interviews. If it was just about her freedom or even her studies, he would gladly keep her at home with the best teachers he could find.
“I understand.” Lucy nodded, and so did Jude. She was dismissed and went to her own study in order to begin with her studies, and to start making plans on how to get rid of her new babysitters once again.
Lucy: Guess who just got a new set of bodyguards.
+++
Natsu knew the girl was special the moment she entered her father’s study. The way she carried herself, the way she smiled and talked. She hated the idea of bodyguards, and if it hadn’t been obvious from how stiff she had become the moment she realized who Mirajane was, he would have known at least by her files. Or the deadly smile she had sent her boss. A challenge, no doubt.
Lucy Heartfilia had a track record of getting rid of both bodyguards and suitors within only a few weeks. It seemed that her game had even levelled up over time. Be it her scaring them away by being bratty and insufferable, or simply by proving them not fit for the job of protecting her by sneaking out in the middle of the night and getting photographed by some paparazzi, she had gotten rid of them all. That’s why Jude Heartfilia had contacted Mirajane, whose agency was said to be the best. Especially after the death threats and the failed attempt to break into the estate, which he probably hadn’t told his daughter about, he just needed to be sure that the heir to his company was in safe hands.
“My daughter is to be guarded at all times, do you understand, Miss Strauss?” His deep voice cut the silence, and Natsu turned his gaze from the door to the man. Mirajane nodded, gifting him her sweetest smile. It was part of her work concept, to be sweet and seem innocent. In reality she was the most dangerous person Natsu had ever encountered, and they both had been high tiers in the military before taking on their job as bodyguards. She believed that potential threats would underestimate her for her good looks and sugary words and make the mistake of coming forward, which gave her the opportunity to not only keep them far from her protégés, but also eliminate the threat emanating from them one way or another, constantly. And so far, her tactic had always worked, without exception. Dangerous men seemed to just love to underestimate kind women.
“Do not worry, Mr Heartfilia. You made the right choice to entrust Miss Lucy to us.”
“Well, well. I guess time will tell if your words are as honourable as they sound. You can go catch up with the rest of your team now.” He dismissed them and Mirajane stood up, made a polite bow, and motioned for Natsu to follow her. While Lucy’s words had been a challenge, his were a warning. If they couldn’t deliver the way he wished, he would get rid of them immediately.
Once the door fell shut behind them, the white-haired woman let out a sigh. “So, what’s your impression?” She asked, and Natsu started walking down the hallway. While Mirajane had been signing legal documents alongside Mr Heartfilia, he had taken a quick look around the house, so that he would be able to know his way around once the job actually started. He knew exactly where Mirajane wanted to go to next.
“Of the girl or her father?” He asked.
“Tell me both.”
“He seems to care for her safety, obviously, but not the way a loving father would. He cares the way an owner of some precious artifact would, and she knows. Their relationship is awful, to say the least, and believing the research I did it’s not even surprising. She hates how planned out her life is, and even more than that she hates bodyguards.” He stated and watched as Mirajane chuckled softly.
“Oh, that seems about accurate. You remember what we talked about the other day?”
“About how I’m to act around her?”
“Yeah. Be careful. I have a feeling that she will make it harder on you than the others.”
Now it was Natsu’s turn to sigh. Yes, she probably would. But he wasn’t Natsu if he would let that get in his way.
Stopping in front of the girl’s study, he raised his hand to knock, waiting for her soft voice to call them in.
Lucy Heartfilia’s study was very different from her father’s. It was packed with books, too, but where his seemed to be a bunch of classics that were bought solely for the purpose of making him look wealthy and intelligent, hers seemed to be personal. There were novels, and books about all kinds of scientific ranges or biographies about scientists and activists, and a whole shelf was packed with just what must be her old schoolbooks. Her desk was of lighter wood and an almost white colour, but even larger in space than his, and there were pens and markers of all colours neatly organized on it, right next to a big computer screen. In front of the chimney on the side wall there was a small coffee table, surrounded by armchairs and a small couch. On the table there was a staple of novels. The room seemed cosy, and personal.
“Oh, Miss Mirajane. I wasn’t expecting you to come and see me.” Lucy smiled confusedly and stood up from the chair behind her desk, starting to walk around it. Natsu couldn’t help but let his gaze roam her body again. It was gorgeous, to say the least. She had all the right curves in all the right places, wasn’t too tall either and seemed quite delicate. Her beautiful blonde locks framed her pretty face, and he could see that she wore only little makeup to accentuate her natural beauty. The girl was absolutely stunning.
Mirajane giggled. “Please, call me Mira. You don’t have to be so formal around me. I’m here because I wanted to talk some things through with you personally and thought that you might feel better if your father wasn’t present.”
This seemed to make the girl insecure, and she furrowed her brows in confusion.
“Sure. Would you like to take a seat?” She motioned for the armchairs in front of the chimney and Mirajane nodded. Once they were sat down opposite each other, Natsu went to stand behind his boss. Lucy gave him a polite smile, which he returned.
“To not beat about the bush, I’m sure you already noticed Natsu.” Mirajane introduced him and he nodded when she glanced up to him.
“He is my best man, and while my whole team will constantly care about the safety of you and your family, he will be your personal bodyguard. He will accompany you to university and to all kinds of other events. I’m afraid he will even be there when you just meet friends, as your father requested.” To Natsu it was obvious that Lucy hated every word coming out of her mouth, and yet she kept up a perfect smile. She didn’t blame Mira, he realized, even though she would make her job as hard as possible.
“What I wanted to ask you was, do you have a boyfriend, Miss Lucy?” Mirajane continued, earning a confused look from Lucy. For a moment, she didn’t seem to know what to say.
“Why is that relevant?”
“Because of the current situation, it would be an advantage if it wasn’t too obvious that Natsu is your bodyguard. Since he will be around you every time you leave the estate, a practical tactic would be for him to pretend to be your boyfriend. Only if you are comfortable with that, of course.” She quickly added, but Lucy didn’t seem entirely convinced yet. “You would not have to do anything you don’t like, just introduce him as such. If you do not want to go with this possibility, we can arrange some other cover story, of course. Our job is to take care about your safety while keeping you as comfortable as possible, so please don’t hold back with criticism.”
Lucy stayed awfully quiet for some minutes, thinking it all through. Eventually she nodded, giving Mirajane a smile that seemed a lot more honest and also mischievous than all the smiles she had put up before. Natsu swallowed hard at the wicked gleam in her angelic brown eyes. “If this is the best possibility, then I should not be the one to turn it down.”
“Great. I will leave you two to talk everything through then and check up on the rest of the team. I wish you a nice afternoon, Miss Lucy.” Mirajane stood up and bowed, before leaving the room in calm strides. When the door clicked shut behind her, Natsu turned his gaze towards Lucy.
“Will it be possible to tell the truth to my closest friends?”
“I’m afraid that I might have to advise against it.” Upon hearing his voice for thew first time, Lucy gave him an odd look.
“Just advise? Then I will tell them.“ She said, such finality in her voice that he knew, no matter what he would say would not find any soil to grow on.
“Is there anything else you would like to talk through or ask?” She questioned and stood up.
“No, Miss. I will remain here in the study with you, though.” She nodded before turning around and returning to her studies. Natsu decided to roam through her bookshelves in the meantime.
He was currently studying an entire shelf full of astronomy books, wondering how someone could ever read something like that without banging their head against a wall, when Lucy cleared her throat behind him. Startled, he turned around, only to find her standing only centimetres beside him. How had she gotten there so quietly?
“Do you like astronomy, Natsu?” She purred, staring right up at him with her big brown doe eyes. He tried not to let it show how much impact they had on him.
He shook his head. “Can’t say I do, Miss. If anything, I’m more of psychology guy.”
“Psychology, huh?” She responded, inching closer. “Call me Lucy, will you?”
“If you wish me to.” He swallowed. What reaction was she trying to get out of him?
“I do. I’ve had psychology classes for some years myself. Loved them, though I had no time for them anymore upon entering university.” She murmured, curious eyes roaming over his chest muscles and biceps before she raised them to stare right back into his. “Have you ever been to university, Natsu?”
“I’m afraid not. After finishing high school, I went straight to the military.” He responded, not sure as to why he was even telling her. He usually didn’t talk about his personal life to his clients.
“The military? So, you really are a tough guy…” Lucy stated, laying a hand on his arm. Only then Natsu realised that she was purposefully manipulating him, bringing him out of the concept. He shook her arm off and hardened his gaze.
“Yes, I am. May I help you with anything, Miss Lucy?”
Looking up at him, and seeing the change in his expression, Lucy smirked. The game had begun.
“Please, call me Lucy.” She repeated and turned away, walking back to her desk. With furrowed brows Natsu stared at her retreating figure, swearing that her skirt was higher up than it had been in her father’s study.
She wanted to play games, huh? Good thing he was a player then.
Hey Sweethearts, it’s me. I’m writing this fanfiction because, obviously, I love Fairy Tail, but also because I am not a native english speaker and I want to up my english game. I would really appreciate some feedback!
Have a lovely Day, your Duchess
#fairy tail fanfiction#Fairy Tail#Lucy Heartfilia#Levy McGarden#Natsu Dragneel#Erza Scarlett#Mirajane Strauss#Juvia Lockser#Bodyguard AU
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