#feeling sappy on this blog tonight you know how it is

[fuckingmeteors]

It makes me happy to see everyone's sweet posts about the return of the gaming channel, so i'll add my own little stone:

I've had the best time on here this past year, we've been spoiled with SO many good videos and I know i can count on them, be it a rewatch or a new vid, to cheer me up anytime i need it.

I have been a silent fan for like 10 years by now, but this February i finally took the leap and made this blog, and got a warmer, kinder welcome than i could have ever dreamed of. I went to my first dnp show and met absolutely wonderful people there. Thank you guys for being this lovely little community, I am so glad to be part of it. And I know they probs won't see this (at least i fucking hope so. Please do not perceive me) but thank you Dan and Phil for bringing back the gaming channel.

May the future of this renaissance bring many more bright, fantastic things 🫡

[hungharrington]

STEEB SENDING AUDIOOS

MDNI this entire blog is 18+

this…. this thought…. ok cos he’s a bit of a slut, steve knows what he’s doing already, okay? he doesn’t even need any training from you - he fucking knows that it’s all about the whines and moans and while he’s vocal in bed with you, it’s a whole nother level if he’s sending something when he’s alone— like just the thought of you listening to it wherever you are, clenching your thighs and getting all flustered, gets him all the more whimpery, rambles and rambles pouring out his mouth

he’s mean with the timing as well. you’re out with your friends, at a restaurant catching up for one of their birthdays and you hadn’t gotten to see steve the last couple days too- both of your shifts getting in the way. steve’s been that usual level of clingy when you guys spend a couple days apart, texts every couple of hours saying i miss you sweetheart >:( and i love you btw! and that oh my god it’s been literally so long since i’ve seen you i’m forgetting what you look like because he is the worlds biggest drama queen — but when it comes to dinner time, your phone buzzes in your back pocket and you fish it out innocently, figuring it’s another sappy message from your bf - and you’re half right! it is a message from your boyfriend but it’s a message that says i miss you :( followed by an voice message

you stare at it for a whole minute, a hot spark burning low in your gut— it could be that he went out with robbie and has had a couple drinks but it’s a little too early for him to be that trashed. just to be safe, you excuse yourself to the bathroom and silently curse yourself for not bringing any headphones as you slip into the empty bathroom, sliding into a stall for privacy just in case — pressing play, you hold the phone up to your ear with the volume on low and strain to listen.

for a moment it’s quiet, then you can hear some shuffling, like steve’s rearranging himself and then his low voice rasps through your speaker, “hey baby,” there’s another shuffling sound before he speaks again, voice a little breathier than usual, “know you’re out with your friends, m’sorry, just keep looking at how goddamn pretty y’look tonight— that photo you sent?” he pauses, inhaling jaggedly, and there, in the pause, you can hear a faint lewd noises and the spark in your tummy catches, burning hotter. he’s jerking off- he’s fucking sent you a voice message of him jerking off while you’re out with friends, he’s evil. “fuck,” he huffs shakily, the sticky sound of his hand on his cock getting a little louder, his pace a little faster, “i can’t stop looking at it, at how gorgeous you look tonight, just wish you were here.”

you can’t see him but your imagination gives you plenty of fuel as steve’s shuddering breathes turn a little closer to moans, a whiney noise slipping out as he thumbs over his slit, “miss you, honey, s’just miss you so much— ah” you startle, realising you’re still in public when he lets out a particular loud moan and it echoes inside your stall. you can’t bring yourself to pause it though, just turn down the volume a click — and cross your legs tightly, holding the phone closer. bastard. he knows exactly what he does to you.

“wish it was your hand, you always- mhfm- fuck, you always treat me better, treat me so good,” he whines, more and more shallow moans reverberating through your phones speaker. you swallow heavily, feeling arousal start to pool in your tummy right as steve starts to pick up the pace properly, the squelching noises louder than ever and his moans all but whimpers now, your name amongst every one— he gets all gaspy as his orgasm gets closer and closer, the noises quieter as you realise he’s dropped his phone away from his mouth, focusing on getting himself to finish- it only makes you more hungry for his noises, holding the phone close and just when you hear him whisper your name pleadingly, like he always does before he cums, the door the bathroom opens.

you jump, scared by the sudden noise, and your phone clatters to the floor— the scuffle hides the final of steve’s pitiful noises as you frantically scoop your phone off the floor and pause it, fingers tapping wildly on your screen until the noise stops. you clutch it to your chest and there’s a moment to breath when the person who’s entered calls out your name — it’s one of your friends checking if you’re alright but considering the clatter of your phone, she hazards a good guess, “god, were you on the phone to steve? you guys are the clingiest couple i’ve ever met.” and you huff an awkward laugh, “ha, something like that- hey, i’ll be right out, gimme just a sec,”

a breath of relief escapes you when her feet turns and leave back out to the restaurant and you finally peel your phone back— feeling a flush of embarrassment as you realise you’ve somehow sent a random keysmash back to steve’s message when you dropped your phone. he’s replied back, saying exactly the reaction i intended ;) and then have a good night honey :) i’ll see you soon, i love you x

[prapuna]

pretender

.

[yuujispinkhair]

Marry Me

Karaoke nights with Yuuji are always fun, but tonight, he makes sure to make it even more special. -> This is part of my Blog Anniversary Event (closed). @subarusuguru requested the song "Marry Me" by Jason Derulo + a karaoke scenario.

Pairing: Yuuji x Reader (female) Genre: fluff Word Count: 700 Warnings: None. All characters are of age. Minors don't interact.

The lights in the small karaoke booth change to a deep red, and half of your friends cheer while the others roll their eyes as the next song starts to play. It's one of your go-to songs anytime you and Yuuji join karaoke nights. You smile at the routined moves the two of you make, a wordless understanding that comes with many years spent next to each other performing your favorite songs. Years spent as friends and then as boyfriend and girlfriend.

You both smile and laugh, singing the lyrics playfully at each other and doing a little dance where Yuuji spins you around before pulling you closer to give you a quick kiss on the lips right before the next stanza begins.

It's a cute performance, fitting perfectly to the song's topic.

Yuuji even gets on one knee and takes your hand while smiling up at you. All part of your performance, perfected in your many years as karaoke partners. You remember being a bit shy at first, but Yuuji always gave it his all, and his cheeriness made you bolder, too, and soon you were singing louder, too. After that, the small choreographies joined the singing, small dance moves that you practiced and included in your performance, making it impossible for any other team to win against Yuuji and you.

The song ends with both of you singing the last part together while smiling at each other. You are standing, and Yuuji is kneeling on the floor of the karaoke bar, holding your hand, and looking deeply into your eyes, looking so gorgeous with his big smile and his broad figure and his eyes as warm as the sun.

You know it's just your typical little choreography you have adapted over the years for this particular song, and yet it somehow still makes butterflies flutter in your stomach anytime you perform this song and hear Yuuji say the words "marry me."

You can hear your friends around you clap and make the typical teasing comments about you two sappy idiots. You chuckle happily and tug on Yuuji's hand to pull him up, but his large hand tightens around yours, and he doesn't budge at all, making it impossible for you to move your strong boy a single inch.

Your eyes narrow in confusion, and you are about to ask him what he's doing when Yuuji places the mic on the floor, shoves his hand into the front pocket of his hoodie... and pulls out a small red box.

Your gasp gets swallowed by the excited cheer of your friends gathering around you. But you don't see them, you only have eyes for Yuuji.

Your Yuuji, your sweet and sexy boyfriend, your loving partner, your best friend, and your most fun karaoke partner ever. Yuuji, who is smiling up at you with his sunshine smile as big as always, but you can see the corners of his lips tremble lightly, a sign of nervousness. Yuuji, whose warm eyes look at you with so much love while he is kneeling before you and holding a red box in his large hand, which can only contain one thing.

He takes a deep breath and then says the words that send happy tears to your eyes,

"I have performed this song so many times with you, and I have always meant every word I sang. I want to be by your side forever. I still want to wake up with you in my arms when we are old and grey, and I want all these idiots here to still tease us then about how happy we are. I love you so much, cutie, and I want to give you my all and make you happy for the rest of our lives. Will you please marry me, baby?"

He looks at you with big honey eyes filled with hope and love, and you feel your lips tremble as you get on the floor, too, joining Yuuji there and wrapping your arms around him, hugging him tightly while you sob,

"Yes! Yes, I want to marry you, baby!"

Yuuji's strong arms wrap around you just as tightly, hugging you to his broad chest and murmuring in your ear with his low voice full of happiness,

"Thank you, baby. You make me the happiest guy in the whole world.

Your lips find each other in a tender kiss before your future husband adds softly,

"And the karaoke throne will always belong to us."

Making both of you laugh out loud even as happy tears stream down both your faces.

I hope you enjoyed this cute little drabble!! Doing karaoke with Yuuji would be so much fun, I know it awww. And if you even get a marriage proposal out of it, it is literally the best thing in the world!!

[misc-obeyme]

RAHHHH AKWKWJDJF I DID IT, I FINALLY BEAT OG !!!! WITH LESS THAN AN HOUR TO SPARE BEFORE NEW LESSONS

except hard lessons

PRACTICALLY A YEAR AND HALF OF CONSISTENTLY PLAYING (AND LIKE FOUR YEARS SINCE I FIRST DOWNLOADED THE GAME), IT'S DONE !!!! IT'S OVER !!!!

and i feel strangely bittersweet. man, not to get sappy but like. i never would've expected to be where i am now. I've made so many cool friends ?! I'm back into drawing and I started writing ?! I'VE GOTTEN OVER MY FEAR OF COMMISSIONING PEOPLE, AND HERE'S ONE I LITERALLY GOT TODAY !! (FROM VINYXZZZ ON TWITTER)

like as crazy as life feels, obey me has been a constant the past while and has a chokehold on me, and my favorites have tumbled around on the list. But Mammon has been there since day one. I will be old and gray and his photo will be faded in my wallet. but maybe I won't have a wallet anymore so it'll be in a picture frame instead.

RAHH I'M GETTING EMOTIONAL OKAY I'M SO EXCITED FOR NEW LESSONS TONIGHT

minor spoilers ahead for lesson 80??

also the fact that only solomon remembered Mammon's name like 🤨 why's that mister sorcerer man? because you're in lo- *gets dragged offstage*

also the last chat with all of them, and asmo says "more like significant other" in response to solomon asking if mc is okay, and mammon freaks out "DON'T SAY THAT". thinking about this in my mc's story, and instead I'm like

"mammon the three of us are literally in a poly relationship"

"...the great mammon was just testin' ya! Don't want the two of you forgetting you're both mine just because you're both in the human world!"

DAAWW WAIR WHAT IF GETS SAD AND JEALOUS THAT MC AND SOLOMON STAY TOGETHER IN THE HUMAN WORLD 😭 ANGST!! OR IG HURT COMFORT BC THEY'D TOTALLY REASSURE HIM ONCE HE ADMITS IT!! actually they summon him every night so they can all go to bed together <3

SORRY IT GOT LONG OKAY I'M DONE WHEEE BYEEE

- ✨ anon (only bc I'm attached to my sign off ngl aksjd)

WOOO I'm glad you were able to finish OG!!!

Listen, when I think too much about all that Obey Me has brought into my life, it's like a weird thing that my brain cannot understand. Like I remember first downloading it and being like hm okay we'll see about this demon game, seems kinda ridiculous.

And like YES it is, but it also caused this blog to happen! And I'm a sad lonely person who made a ton of amazing online friends because of this game and I have so many lovely anons talking to me and people reading my writing and !?!?!?

It seems crazy sometimes to think all that came from this silly game! So I totally get you. I'm so glad that the game helped you make friends and start to draw and write again!! I think it's so great to have that thing that inspires us, no matter what it is!! And I love how we can all just talk about this game and connect with each other, no matter who we are. IT'S SPECIAL 😭

AH that commission is SO CUTE.

LOL I love when parts of the story feed our own headcanons and story ideas laksdjf.

I love the idea that Solomon and MC just summon Mammon to the human world every night, what a bunch of cuties!

How would your MC and Solomon deal with this when it comes to the NB storyline? I mean, do they just keep the secret from past!Mammon? Does he end up getting really attached to them without really understand why? I think it'd be hard for MC to have one partner who knows everything and the other one who has no idea...

[drawing-prompt-s]

Dec. 7th, 2022 Message

Your local Prompt Prophet isn't feeling the best tonight so it is just Prompt's queued up for the next 24 hours - which may extend into tomorrow as well, depending on how I feel by the early morning hours. Which is is usually when I Q up this blog for the following day. So do not forget to send in some prompts if you've been hiding them!!

Heads up, the rest of this is very long and i got kinda sappy thinking about having run this blog, and then thinking about all of you guys. <3

There is also an ask sitting in my inbox I need to get to regarding what art I do and do not reblog - if there is something you can do to ensure it. And the short answer is there is not. I do not always check older prompts, so I miss a lot of art at times. But mostly it just boils down to me being a single person running this blog. I cannot reblog every piece. On top of that, for those of you that do more than one of them! I see and love them, do not be discouraged if you do not see me reblog another, I just try to avoid reblogging more than one to give other artists a chance to shine as well!

I also just wanted to take a moment and say thank you to everyone who submits prompts, responds with art, reblogs others art, and generally just interacts with this blog. I cannot expression how much I adore and appreciate you all - i see a lot of the kind words you send or sometimes write back to me in tags or reblogs. They mean a lot. Occasionally it can feel that my responses are either thought of as fake enthusiasm, or unwelcome in some regards. But as I have said before, with well over 70,000 of you following this blog, I am bound to get some disagreement with how I run things here. Nevertheless, the sweet comments and asks that I see help in ensuring I know that not only are my responses getting across to the vast majority how I want them to (with genuine love and enthusiasm for the artists and the wonderful art they share with us), but in knowing that they are uplifting for others of you as well.

I know art can be challenging, and thankless at times - especially when you crave validation. I know artist block and life in general can halt the content that you want to create. The things you want to do. I know age and differing skill levels can make it hard to think you will ever reach where you want to be. But just remember that every piece you put out there, every practice sketch or warm up, is one more piece of art in the world that didn't previously exist. And I, and so many others, are cheering you on!

I am so glad that I have been able to be here on this blog with you all for the last few years (i honestly do not even know when I took over, compared to the prior admin, it has been a while at the least). And I have cherished every second of it.

So here is to the hope that we will have more years to come - and even if you feel you need to step away from art, just know if you ever want to come back, well, that is the fun thing about art, it never really leaves!

-- Prompt Prophet

[tragedicna]

feeling real sappy tonight so here's a little small promo but also big APPRECIATION towards them <3

@ambivalent-auguries

            the woman i'd commit tax fraud with . . . jk  .  unless . . . no  ,  just kidding  .  the light of my life  ,  i am so glad to have met you and had the absolute pleasure of writing with you  .  i love all of our character interactions and i love how you push me to write better  .  thank you for always being there for me uvu and listening to my stupid rants  .  i love how you always indulge me in ideas and don't hesitate to start new things with me to keep me on my toes  <3  .  you're the best  ,  vanda  .

@luvdive & @wcvensouls & @ashcrows

            you guys are the ones i've known the longest and i appreciate y'all a whole damn lot  .  i've switched blogs so many times  ,  changed up my roster so many times and yet  ,  you've stuck with me <3  .  thank you so much for the support  ,  i'm so glad to have gotten to know the two of you  .

@elysiumtouched & @thecircusfreaks & @txnichtgut & @constellaris & @heincus & @solivcgant

            the people who always indulge me whenever i want to use a muse or write a specific plot  .  you all are the mvp of my writing careers  ,  y'all are always so willing to let me throw muses at you even when i don't even have a full grasp on said muses  .  i'm so glad to have y'all as my hype people that always push me to do what makes me happy and knowing that i'll always have someone to write against when i just need someone to help me figure out what direction i want to take my muses in  .

and the inspos of my life  :  @killerhubby & @vonerde & @villain-he & @hembralfa & @v-iciious

            the work y'all put into your metas  ,  your edits  ,  and overall the effort and dedication y'all put into your muses is awe-inspiring and i admire all that you do  .  i am so glad to have met all of you and am so honored that i get to write with you  !!  i love seeing y'all on my dash and absolutely love the amazing content i see .  

[thephantomtheory]

isa i am feeling both brave and sappy tonight so that has led me to your inbox where i just want to say thank you for being so super cool all the time 💘 i love your blog so so much, and the tags you've left on my fics have made me smile many many times over 🥰 you're one of those blogs i think is too cool for me so i never say hi BUT you deserve to know how happy you make me and that you've made my life better, so thank you 💐

YEAH sorry if this is too much lol. Just in my feels tonight and felt compelled to say thank you for being you 💌

PROMISE IM NOT THIS EMOTIONAL ALL THE TIME SO IF YOU EVER WANNA SEND MEMES BACK AND FORTH DM ME ANYTIME XD

sweet anlian!! this MADE MY DAYYYYYY im sitting here giggling and kicking my feet AHHH! you’re the sweetest and thank you so so much and you’re never too much! i literally love seeing you on my dash hehe

and YES now i that i have your permission you will be getting memes from me sorry not sorry 🫶🤭

[stxiiir]

Controlled chaos, or is it?

Hi.

It's been a while since I wrote, well, anything, really.

It's been much longer since I was 'one' with my feelings. Don't get me wrong, I haven't stopped being emotional. I just haven't had the time to explore why. Perhaps I've finally mastered the art of putting everything - my emotions, my issues, my etc - way way at the back of my head in hope it will sort itself out and getting comfortable with co-piloting my life. hA, what's new.

Anyways, I was supposed to continue some works from home tonight, but as always, I find a way to amuse myself out of my routine and get my head helplessly distracted elsewhere. This time, my blog from 14 years ago. yes, when I was 14. gaddamn.

I was on my way home from work this evening when Spotify did their thing, creepily delving into your subconscious and randomly shuffle a song that cages you deeper into your subconsciousness (?) In short, Spotify randomly played Arctic Monkey's Fluorescent Adolescent in Arin's playlist and Arin went batshit nostalgic crazy and paid a visit to her long-lost blog in hope to... i dont know...cringe the shit out of her sad posts over her two-timing-asshole-not-exactly-an-ex-boyfriend, Leo? not really, finding reasons to be nostalgic over her past life in Miri since the topic has been quiet heavy on her mind the past few days? maybe.

You know the cliche saying, when you're happy you enjoy the music but when you're sad you understand the lyrics? Well, that's Fluorescent Adolescent for me this evening. A 28 years old Ms Girlie on her Gojek ride home reminiscing about her younger self whilst still grasping on the reality that life is really different now. For starter, Ms Girlie is married but that's for another day~.

As I read through my old blog and listened to some songs that I purposely put as 'hint' for ze special someone aka ze asshole bf back then, I realized that I've grown. so. much.

I mean, yeah I am now twice the age I was when writing those sappy stories but I think a part of me still can't comprehend that I was her, I am no longer now, but I carry her with me everywhere I go. ok, my therapist is going to be happy with her bill after this, but like?? you know?? how could that be?? it's insane.

I think about those early moving days to Miri and how much I resented it; the not being able to speak English other than hello how are you? days, the pointless fights and yells with dad for making me lose out on the so called 'important' high school hang out stuffs days, the friendless-introverted-good grades-me discovering good movies and good indie songs in the comfort of my room days, the me passing out on my comfy couch from watching too much Disney Channel days, the mom dropping me off to the public library/tuition at Mr Daniel's that I skip for coffee bean with Iona days, the uni days that I don't really treasure except for when I get high by the beach on my own. Those seconds that turn into hours, hours into days, days into months and eventually years. The years I thought I'd outgrown have somehow found me occasionally searching for bits and pieces of it everywhere I go when I'm older... :'( damn excuse me while I go cry my feelings out. be back in a bit

[not-that-blog]

I can't sleep.

Partly bc I had an allergic reaction to something last night and feel a little nauseous still.

But mostly bc my partner has a beautiful face and looks really sweet and cuddly on facetime and I am super sappy and excited because I get to see him tonight and be his again. And I ~need~ that. Like genuinely am going to cling to him because it's been a week and last night involved some feelings that distance makes harder.

So I'm just blogging and thinking and I am really really happy to be his soon. Just melting into his arms and letting everything fade away.

And you know what I don't blog about elsewhere that I love? I'm reclaiming my body and my sexual side after all the fucked up shit from Dakoda and Natalie.

Because I trust my partner completely, because I know him and he's wonderful and gentle and soft with me.

And we've started exploring things that I never thought I'd be comfortable going near again.

And not because he wanted to or he asked or pushed; but because I felt safe enough with him to think about it, joke about it, kink blog about it and then when he said 'I'm in' and we researched a little and talked about it and flirted and slowly started trying some things.

And I felt safe, I tapped out well before I needed to so we knew that I was being mentally and physically safe, he instantly checked in making sure there was no trauma, no pain, no stress or anxiety, if I needed anything, if I wanted anything. He listened and checked in and really took care of me.

And I was safe, like completely safe.

And I feel like I could marry this man not because ~I'm in love~ (I am, but in a peaceful way not a heart racing excitement kinda way) but because this man is dedicated and committed, with full compassion and trust, he is everything that I could ever want and more.

You know the 'love is patient, love is kind, etc' and how you should be able to say your partner's name and have it fit? He does. All of them.

And then afterwards; he still has more things about him that I admire and love and think would make him a fucking incredible husband and father.

This man is my hype man, he is my biggest cheerleader, sometimes more than my best friends.

He is the definition of unconditional love and support. Because we have strong boundaries and respect and know each other's limits and agree if it ever got to breaking certain ones we walk away... but that's such a big part of unconditional love and respect and support; acknowledging the limitations and challenges that might be there and going 'okay. I love you.'

He loves me in a way that I think is the most beautiful thing in the world.

He loves me in the way that I want my children to be loved.

And that, that is the thing that makes the world of difference.

[desceros]

Okay but the way I've (Respectfully) been checking your blog daily just to check in, seeing if you've written anything only to be greeted by the Pyramid Head Leo fic- holy shit. Oh my god. I'm only a few paragraphs in so far (Had to stop to write this), and the world building is spectacular. The fact that you wrote this in a bout of insomnia??

I love your writing and I can't wait for more, but also like... I can wait, please take care of yourself, I hope the sleep fairy grants you the best sleep tonight. Things are rough around winter/spring for me, I'm so glad I found your blog to have something to keep me sane, and I so hope you're treating yourself well! Even your casual posts make me happy and it's now a habit to check your blog daily, just so I don't miss anything, regardless of how silly it is. It's really validating to see people just existing within this fandom and you being here brings me joy. Idk I'm feeling sappy today, eat food, drink water, treat your wrists real nice and take as much time as you need to write whatever comes next, and again, I hope you can get some decent sleep soon!

Also I hope it's not weird to admit I check your blog daily (I just have notifs on), it's genuinely become a comfort thing for me and I do the same thing with like one other blog. Idk I'm trying not to be parasocial or weird just like. Seeing people exist comfortably in these spaces is so incredibly validating, I feel like I'm getting closer to finally writing and posting stuff everyday as I see it. It's been so good for my issues with toxic shame and just. With all the asks and stuff I've seen on your blog of people kind of sort of pushing you to update, I just... wanted to send something hopefully nice in. Because I do totally look forward to your updates and writing and everything, and like... I'm vibrating waiting for the Symphony update, but at the same time, I'm doing it as patiently as possible. I want you to take your time, I want you to enjoy your hobby, and I recognize that the longer you take the better it'll be, and life gets in the way and all that. I'm bad at explaining things, basically I'm just willing to wait as long as it takes, and I'm always excited whenever you drop stuff! This is long because my brain is being a little goofy... Sorry if you read all this, and if you don't nw! I really rambled a bit there, but I don't know how else to explain myself, so yeah... I'll cut it here, I hope everything got through right and I hope your day is super awesome, and your sleep is even better. Insomnia sucks and I've been going through the same thing, so I'm rambly and a bit incoherent maybe bc of sleep deprivation (God I hope not).

haha yeeeaaaaah, i kinda rambled about it in discord at four am night before last, and yesterday evening my friends were kind enough to body double for me in a stream so i could get this out before i was finally able to pass tf out.

i’ve been wanting to write something direly, but i didnt want to work on symphony with my brain in a bit of a fog. perfect for a little one shot like this, though!

[topflights]

so genuinely excited and happy to see ppl replying to that “what’s the first match you watched fully” thing with recent matches and how they’re new to wrestling and they’re enjoying their time w it. wrestling is so beautiful and special and seeing ppl find it and learn that it’s more than what they thought it was is everything. if you’ve been a fan of wrestling for years or if you just started watching last week, i hope you’re having an amazing time and i hope you continue to find that same joy from this for as long as you wanna partake.

[bits-and-babs]

Stitch Up || Frank Castle x Reader

-> Rating: 18+

-> Word Count: 4.5k

-> Years of working with up and coming heavyweight boxing world champion hopeful Frank Castle all builds up to one night.

CW/TW: Boxer!Frank x Cutman!reader. Boxing (duh), mentions of injury, mentions of violence. P in V sex, unprotected sex. Relatively tame for me but I’m easing back into writing! Not proof read. Special tag to @bernthalus-christ and @darlingshane for being the two blogs my friend consistently sent me posts of to help me fall in love with Jon 🥺❤️

The brutality of fighting is that a loss isn’t your only beat down. It’s the rejection that follows, your name falling down the ranks, the rejected fight opportunities, the loss of respect. Working in the fighting industry and even as a fan, you have witnessed many incredible fighters reach unbelievable heights, only to plummet through the ranks and hit the canvas so hard that it shifts their entire career.

Frank Castle though? He was on the up and up, consistently winning his bouts within the first five rounds. Didn’t matter if he faced fighters with more experience or Goliath opponents that far outweighed him in every category from height to reach advantage, his sheer resilience and bull-like stubbornness meant he refused to hit the canvas. It was a sight to behold, something you had never seen in all your years in the industry.

However, facing off against such formidable fighters meant that Frank often walked out of the ring looking as mangled as a car in a high speed accident. Busted lips, black eyes swollen to the size of small lemons, cuts above his brow that would bleed into his eyes. No matter the injury, Frank pushed through and finished each and every opponent.

Watching the team work to lace up his gloves, Frank stands utterly still. He’s poised, face steady despite the roaring of the fans in the arena and the thumping bass on the speakers. His hair is cropped shorter than usual, a decision he had taken upon your orders. Tonight’s rival was a heavy hitter, someone who often caused significant damage, so you had insisted Frank cut his hair so you didn’t miss any significant splits to his upper forehead or sides of his skull. Despite how odd he looks without his longer, dark locks you find it suits him quite nicely like this. It shows off the intensity of the bone structure of his face better, you think. Draws attention to the deep brown of his tired eyes and the arch of his Cupid’s bow. There was no saving that nose though… That was a boxer’s nose.

“He’s all yours,” Coach calls to you, and you suddenly come back into your body, hyper aware that you’ve been gazing at Frank like some sappy rom-com scene. Stumbling over air as Frank approaches you, you snatch up the petroleum jelly from the table you’re sat by to begin preparing him for the fight.

“You good, doc?” He questions gruffly, using his name for you. You’re no doctor, just a Cutman, but one day you joked that Frank’s scars healed so well you should enter medical school and the name just… stuck. It always made you feel quite special. No one else had a nickname.

“Mhmm-hm!” You hum, a little too enthusiastically as you scoop the viscous gel onto your fingertips and reach up to swipe it over his face. You start out with his brow bones, the place his skin tends to split most. His eyes close, long lashes fluttering as you move to sweep it over his brow hairs. You hate being this close to him. Hate being able to see all the tiny, silver scars that evidence all the years you’d spent patching him up again. You recall them all, like the way you’d giggled when you stitched up the large cut across his temple while he rambled on about how ’dense’ the judges were to score round 7 of his fight in Dubai 8-10 in favour of his opponent just because Frank had slipped on the blood slick floor of the canvas.

Delicately, you brush the jelly over the expanse of his warm forehead as you chewed nervously on your lip. You know his eyes are open again, can feel his intimidating stare set hard on your expression.

“How are you feeling?” You ask him with a shaky breath as you drag the gel down his temples and over his cheekbones.

“Goddamn, you a shrink too, Doc?” He muses, a smirk playing on his lips that has you letting out a nervous laugh. It’s not often he’s in this mood before a fight. Usually he doesn’t want to entertain your pointless questions. It must mean he felt confident.

“I’m a woman of many talents,” you answer back jokingly, looking at him through your lashes. He’s got this spark in his eye, adrenaline surging before he had the living shit beaten out of him. You give him a playful, pointed look. “Just don’t make me work overtime by coming back to me a mess at the end of this, alright?”

“Yes Ma’am,” he murmurs, his voice a little quieter than usual, softer despite his gravelly tone. It makes goosebumps raise on your arms, makes your stomach flip. His eyes assess your own for a moment while you finish swiping the jelly across his jaw before flicking down to the curve of your lips and back up to your irises. It’s a split second, but you see it. God, you see it.

“Alright Punisher!” Coach calls out to him using his stage name now, causing him to break eye contact with you. You inhale sharply, not even noticing that you’d stopped breathing until you feel the burning in your lungs. “Let’s go.”

Frank wastes no time in stepping back from you, rolling his shoulders as he approaches the doors to the arena. Grabbing your medical kit despite your lightheadedness, you’re quick to follow behind him, keeping your eyes set on the rippling muscles of his bare back while the crowd erupts at the sight of the underdog approaching the ring to the thumping drums of Johnny Cash’s “God’s Gonna Cut You Down.”

____________________________________________

Bright flashes of Canon cameras worth more than your kidney capture the moment Frank’s opponent slams into the canvas so hard you swear you can feel the ground shake. The referee waves his arms wildly to call off the approaching Frank, and the team leap from their stools and clamber into the ring screaming in joy. Your face hurts from smiling too much already, having known by round three it was only a matter of time.

Coach raises Frank’s blood smeared gloved hands into the air as the stadium audience cheers. It’s deafening, much louder than any of your previous events, proving Frank was reaching new heights. You pick up your medical supplies, knowing he had to come to you for a check up before the official announcement. He seems to realise it at the same time as you, looking over his shoulder and catching your eye despite the deep cuts in his eyebrows leaking blood into his vision.

Stumbling over through the overly excited crowd in the ring made up of team members, sponsors, event management and the like, Frank makes his way towards you for his assessment. You smile wide, so wide you swear you pull a muscle in your cheek when you see his own lips twitch up in a smile.

“You good?!” He shouts over the clamour of the crowd, and you laugh weakly at him, shaking your head slightly as you take his chin in your palm. You take ahold of your pen torch to shine the light in his eyes and check for a concussion.

“Isn’t that what I’m supposed to say?” You call back, watching both of his eyes dilate as they should, much to your relief. Discarding the pen in your pocket, you grab more petroleum jelly and scoop some onto your gloved fingers.

Frank watches your fingertips sweep through the viscous material before looking back up to your face. “Decided I’d try a hand at your job,” he answers, and you can’t help but giggle.

“I think you should keep your hands in an area you clearly excel at,” you muse, looking up at him through your lashes and gesturing towards the ring with a tilt of your head while packing his eyebrow wounds so they stop leaking into his eyes while the announcement is made. You finish up as quickly as you can despite your shaking hands, knowing that the referee is waiting for you to give the all clear. It’s just so hard not to get distracted by the way droplets of sweat slipped down the valley of his pecs and across his sternum.

When you finally give the thumbs up to confirm he is free to go, Frank is quick to take ahold of your forearm and lean into your ear. “See you in the break room, yea?” When he pulls away to see your answer, you stare up at him with what you can only assume is a dumbstruck expression. He doesn’t look as though he requires any significant medical attention. You nod quickly, however, and Frank turns away for the official announcement of the winner, leaving you utterly at a loss.

Watching the referee take ahold of Frank’s wrist to await the officiaters call makes your heart hammer against your sternum- or was that thanks to Frank whispering in your ear? Your mind is spinning, the crowd drowned out by the speakers now.

“Ladies and gentlemen, at the end of round number five referee Kenny Bayless has called a stop to this contest. By way of knockout, the new undisputed heavyweight champion of the world, ‘The Punisher’ Frank Castle!”

The crowd erupts as the belt is draped over Frank’s waist, his hand raised by the referee to signal his victory to the masses. Frank’s smiling. Smiling wider than you’ve ever seen him smile. It’s odd to see him so happy, but he wears it well- just as he wears the belt as though it was made for him. It’s a bizarre thought, but you can’t help but note that the gold of the decorative buckle suits his skin quite nicely.

Pushing through the crowds as the interviews begin, you hear the gruff tone of Frank’s voice over the speakers thanking the fans for coming out and crediting the win to his team. The cheers of the crowd are so loud that you can still hear them even as the doors to the back rooms close behind you. Your ears buzz from the sudden drop in volume and you settle on the sofa in an attempt to bring yourself down from the adrenaline high you had been riding for the past three days.

The comedown from fight nights felt like a bus plummeting from the top of a cliff. All the build up to support Frank and working to ensure everything was perfect for him so he could fight at his peak ability. If the crash felt so significant for you, it was hard to imagine how it must feel for him. To go from focusing all your energy on the most important night of his life to hanging in a suspended state of anticipation awaiting the next fight contract must be so jarring.

The tug of the medical gloves against your skin as you pull them from your hands brings you back to reality. Crimson streaks of Frank’s blood stains the blue latex. You had been nervous when the gash had opened up halfway through round two. Against his brow bone, the blood has poured into his eyes and effectively blinded him. Still, he’d managed to guard against the onslaught of punches for the other half of the round to survive until you were able to aid him by packing the wound with so much jelly that you swore there’d be a world shortage.

“You look like you’ve just gone twelve rounds,” Frank's gruff voice sounds from the door, causing your head to snap up quickly from where it had been resting on the sofa. He’s smirking, belt still settled on his waist and a curved rim cap atop his head to hide the excessive facial bruising he always gets after a bout. He tends to grow his beard out to hide as many of the purple marks as he can.

“No,” you correct him, sitting up properly, “No, you look as though you’ve gone twelve rounds, I just feel like I have.” His laugh that he returns makes your lips stretch into a smile. He sets his energy drink and stained boxing gloves down on the table while he approaches you.

“Oh yea? Was only five rounds though, wasn’t it?” He muses, smug expressions causing you to roll your eyes playfully. His next sentence, though, catches you completely off guard. “You worried about me or somethin’?”

You must have looked like some comical, realistic version of Edvard Munch’s ‘The Scream’ thanks to the way your jaw nearly dropped from its hinges. Panic rose in your chest as you shook your head quickly. Fuck-

“N-No! No, I always knew you’d win! The cut just looked really nasty-“

“Had worse,” he points out calmly, settling beside you on the sofa with a groan. You swear that him breaking a sweat in the ring meant he was lacing the oxygen you shared with pheromones, because there’s no way you should feel this horny with him at this proximity.

“W-Well, yes but it was more that you couldn’t see…” you trail off, stumbling over your words as though your lips and tongue had gone numb when you feel his knee brush yours when he spreads his thighs to get comfortable, his head tilting back as he listened to you fumble for an explanation.

Quiet settles between the two of you, the only sound you can hear over the deafening thumping of your blood rushing through your ears being the soft breathing of Frank beside you, gazing up at the ceiling. He appears to be thinking, considering the best way to respond to your poor attempt at a reasonable explanation.

Finally, he turns his head towards you, deep brown irises flitting over your face and taking in the panicked expression it held. Had you not already been in such a nervous state, you probably wouldn’t have noticed the way he slowly moved his arm across the back of the sofa to settle directly behind your neck.

“‘S nice,” he murmurs, voice so gravelly in a whisper that you can barely tell what it is he’s saying. “Nice that you worry.”

Swallowing weakly, you break his gaze to glance down at the belt on his waist, chewing the inside of your cheek. “Mhmm. It’s what medical professionals do during a fight. Worry.”

Quiet again, but this time your hearing nearly gives out altogether when you feel the tips of his fingers brush at the nape of your neck, pushing ever so slightly into the hair at the base of your neck. It’s like your body forgets every single one of its bodily functions, frozen in place.

“That the only reason you’re worryin’?” He murmurs, as though he’s almost disappointed to hear it. You can’t even process what’s happening thanks to his touch, can’t comprehend what he’s implying. Frank never so much as hugs anyone after a fight, this is totally out of character for him.

Finally you look back up at him in shock to find he’s giving you a pointed look. It’s like he can read you like an open book, can sense your nerves. It’s not hard, despite your best efforts to conceal it your breathing is so ragged it’s like you’ve run a marathon up Everest without an oxygen tank.

Fuck, the tension crackles between you. He’s eyeing you cautiously but you can feel he wants to close the gap between the two of you from how tense he seems. You exhale slowly, trying to expel the tension you’re feeling in your chest as he slowly begins to lean forward.

You’re not sure if he’s just relieved to have won, if he’s delirious from his own adrenaline high or has a concussion that you somehow magically failed to notice, but he leans in slowly and captures your lips in a kiss that has your body practically curling inwards in surprise. It’s so much all at once, the salty scent of his sweat, the brush of his stubble against your chin and the feeling of his hand slotting just perfectly beneath your jaw as he holds your face in place with a gentle grip.

It’s slightly clunky at first, your mind taking a second to overcome the disbelief before you’re able to kiss him back in earnest, but once you start you can’t stop. You’d craved this moment over the years you’d been working with him, so caught up in your desire that you never even noticed or even considered that maybe he wanted it too.

“You good?” He checks in with you, murmuring against your lips. You nod quickly, nose bumping against his as you do before pressing your lips to his again with more urgency. You’re not sure how the desperation manages to break free from the modesty you’re trying to keep, but Frank returns your neediness in earnest, the intensity of the kiss rising as his tongue swipes across your lower lip.

Soon it’s messy, his tongue sliding against the flat of your own. You can taste the iron of blood from where his lip got cut in the fight early on. His teeth gently sink into the meat of your own, pulling away slightly and pulling the flesh of your lip along with him. It makes a whine bubble in your throat before you can stop it.

You don’t have any time to be embarrassed, the sound causing Frank to get a little more handsy. He’s pawing at your waist, your hips, lips moving to your ear to whisper words of encouragement. “That’s it, pretty girl. Wanna hear you do that again, can you do that again?”

It doesn’t take much, the slight pain of him sinking his teeth into your earlobe before sucking gently is enough to force you to fulfil his request.

He hums quietly in approval, palm spreading across your throat as his other hand takes ahold of your upper thigh to shift your body under his. You don’t argue, don’t tell him to stop, so with one strong lift he has your hips shifting down the sofa beneath his own so your back lays against it. You gaze up at him, noting the way he glances over your face and body with hooded eyes, equally as enthralled by you as you are with him.

“Mhmm, you’re so strong,” you whisper mindlessly, drunk on the kisses he had been spoiling you with. A soft chuckle sounds from his throat as he leans down and kisses the side of your neck. His stubble scratches the soft skin and his fingers knead the flesh of your thigh gently as he teases you with the wet kisses against your jugular. Your fingertips rest on his spine, tracing the vertebrae poking through his bare back.

Once again he has his palm across your throat, his thumb tucked under your jaw on one side of your neck, fingertips on the other. When he brings his lips back to your mouth and steals the air from your lungs with a bruising kiss, he squeezes, causing you to keen a breathless whine.

“That good, baby?” He asks you, knowing damn well he’s got you so worked up that you can’t form enough of a coherent sentence to answer his relatively simple question. “That makin’ you feel good?”

God it is. It is and you’re losing your mind. It’s made even worse by the fact you can feel Frank's erection press into your thigh through the black, silk material of his boxing shorts. They have ‘The Punisher’ embroidered into the runched, elasticated waistband, and you can’t help the way your brain immediately starts running away with itself, silently begging him to punish me!

It’s enough to push you over the edge, to lift your hips up and grind your clothed cunt into the length of his cock. You see it in his eyes, the way it damn near makes him rip the cushions of the sofa with the way he grips the material. His jaw goes slack, eyes flicking down to watch your hips move up into him before he’s fumbling with the zipper of your jeans.

The action alone has you whimpering softly, tilting your head back in frustration that he’s not slipping inside of you now. He hushes you softly, half-mindedly murmuring that he’s there. That he’s got you. After a struggle, he managed to pop the button on your waistband open, grabbing onto the loose denim and yanking it over the meat of your thighs. The force he uses jolts your body down suddenly, and you can’t help but let out a surprised laugh. You’re so taken aback that it’s a few moments before you realise he’s pulled your cotton panties down with them.

Thank God he did. Saves you the embarrassment of seeing you in anything but the lacey number you always wanted him to undress you from. It’s not as though you’d even imagined being fucked by him on the sofa in the break room this evening…

The brush of his lips against your hip bone, the press of the tip of his nose into your lower abdomen has you digging your heels into the sofa, chasing more. You blindly grab at the waistband of his shorts, but Frank hushes you again, trying to settle your desperation. It only causes tears of frustration to well in your eyes.

He’s kind enough to not keep you waiting long. Or maybe he just can’t help himself when you lazily spread your thighs wide for him, but he’s already working his shorts over his hips, his hard, thick cock springing free from the elasticated waistband. He’s so pretty, flushed and veiny with a little upwards curve to him. A pink tip.

“The belt stays on,” you whisper. You’re not quite sure where the confidence comes from, but the surge of euphoria you feel when Frank utters a breathy *fuck* in response feels almost as good as an orgasm, the end of the word a little pitchier than the start. It makes him settle his hips between your thighs, notching his pretty, pink, weeping tip against your entrance.

He wastes no time, slipping into you at a steady pace. You’re so fucking wet that he faces barely any resistance at all, his upper lip curling as he just slips right into your heat. “Attagirl,” he whispered, voice ragged, “Take me just like that.”

Stretching you open, his cock stuffing you full has your eyes rolling back into your head, loose fists hitting at his chest weakly as you’re overcome with the bliss it causes. Your toes curl, thighs squeezing at his waist as your heels settle on his lower back. You can feel him twitch inside you, the motion causing the head of his dick to push up against something mind-meltingly good inside of you.

The sight of your eyes rolling back into your skull has him jump-starting, rocking into you with all the energy he has left after the fight. It’s not bruising like you’d expected. No, it’s targeted. He’s found the place that makes you feel good, and he concentrates all of his focus there. It has you whining his name in seconds, has you digging your nails into the flesh of his forearms.

“Mhmm-hmm,” he hums shakily, feeling your walls clench around his cock, “That’s it right there isn’ it?” It is. It is and he’s fucking torturing you with it. He rolls his hips up into you and you're sobbing out, actually crying at how good it feels. He murmurs to himself, Jesus Christ, taken aback by how fucking beautiful you look taking his dick like this. His eyes are trained on your pussy, watching himself glide in and out with such ease, your creamy white cunt paining the angry red of his cock.

“Goddamnit- fuck, pretty baby,” he whispered, voice strung out as you clench around his thickness again. He can feel it coming. Can feel the way the muscles tighten so much against his waist. His fingers work their way between your thighs, calloused fingertips rubbing tight little circles over your sensitive clit to draw out those contractions, to cause white hot need to flush down your lower back and thighs.

“Fr-Frank-“ you hiccup, seeing double when you look up at him through teary eyes, “M’Gunna cum-“

“Already?” He muses, without a hint of malice. He likes that he can reduce you to this mess so simply. Loves it. He speeds you towards it even quicker, fucking hurls you over the edge when the flat of his palm pushes down on your lower abdomen so hard that he can feel himself fuck you through your stomach.

His groan of “shiiit” sends you tumbling, causes the white-hot pleasure to surge so suddenly that you go blind, body crumpling inwards and practically lifting from the sofa with it. Your nails dig into his skin so hard they draw blood, his resulting hiss just barely reaching your ears over the orgasm-induced static that dominates your hearing.

“Fra-Hah-“ you slur, unable to get the words out as your head drops back against the sofa again as he steadies his hips so as to not overstimulate you to the point of discomfort. It takes you a while to gain your breath back, to regain the ability to speak in coherent sentences. Even when you do, all you can manage is a- “Thank you~”

“Mhmm… Least I can do for my loyal Cutman,” he murmurs into your ear with that same gravelly tone that vibrates down your spine, pressing gentle, wet kisses to your temple and hairline to ease you down from the extreme high he’s driven you to.

“Hah,” you giggle weakly, turning your head to the side to capture his chocolate gaze. He’s so pretty like this, even all battered and bruised with a busted lip, crooked nose-bridge and black eye the shade of midnight he’s still so pretty. “Champion of the World still gotta take his prize.”

“Mhmmm, fuck.”

END

Authors note: thank you all for being so patient with me. It isn’t my best work, but I gotta break the rut somehow!

🏷 @polaroidpetal @foxilayde @mylifeisactuallyamess @bookfrog242 @wh0reforbucknasty @crystalchrysalis19 @zakizigekwe @ahookedheroespureheart @buckys-other-punk @anxious-sappho @youngr0se95 @alexloveskili @captainrexstan @astroboots @knights-power @southcrnbelle @niallsbunny @wakers-bonkers @ofmortems @hold-our-destiny @xcatnapsx @vermillionwinter @stormkobra-5 @bb-skyrunner @silvery-luna @sebsbelova @Erenbissexual @alwritey-aphrodite @maggotzombie @deadpige0n @bakerstreethound @whatthehekko @moonnaught @cottagebunny9 @strangunddurm

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K. Bokuto || Say My Name A Thot’s Thoughts 💦

MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT || 18+ ONLY ||

|| ao3 version | hq tag | m.lists | main blog ||

↠ Requested By: This damned thirst dream that won’t leave me be until I write it out ↠ Reader Gender: Neutral ↠ Content Type: So very NSFW ((*whacks minors on the nose with a rolled up newspaper* No! Not for you!!)) ↠ Chronology: Post time skip. ↠ CWs/TWs: Any applicable warnings can be found in the tag list under the cut. ↠ Betas? Lmaoooooo… ↠ Total WC: 2.3k~

“I know you know it, sweetheart—so say it. Say my fucking name, right the fuck now.”

He’ll get what he wants—even if he has to fuck it out of you…

I want this man to snap my spine like a gd glow stick. That’s it, that’s the tweet.

((p*rn with v. little plot ahead, in case you somehow couldn’t figure that out lol))

💦 Tags: Reader uses they/them pronouns (tho I don’t think Reader’s pronouns actually come up in this? dk how I managed that *shrugs*) | Reader has ambiguous anatomy | Penetrative sex (missionary that turns into a mating press, Reader receiving) | Rough-ish sex (some grabbing of the face, and like he’s really laying into you, but it doesn’t get too heavy) | ((so maybe it’s more ‘hard’ than ‘rough’?? idk, I’ll let you lot decide)) | ((also, Bo’s a lil bit feral in this one, ngl)) | Some dom/sub undertones | ((my subby ass is predictable as hell, so are you even surprised at this point?? lmao)) | A smattering of ✨ ~Size kink~ ✨️ | ((Bo’s a big, big boy with a big, BIG dick, but I digress)) | Use of petnames (pretty baby, sweetheart, that kinda beat) | Also Bo’s got a bit of voice kink—who saw that one coming?? | ((me, I did, because I just made it a thing lol)) | Unprotected Sex because is fic, and is hot in fic. Don’t the thing irl unless you take proper precautions and discuss it with your partner well beforehand, mmkay? Mmkay… | Also what probably amounts to an unrealistic amount of cum, but look—I’ve got my kinks, okay? Lmao | Also, also—potentially OOC Bokuto if you canon him to be soft ‘n’ sweet in bed. He can be, and is a good portion of the time, but like… sometimes he just wants to bully you a bit while he fucks you into the mattress, yanno? | Also, also, also—unintentional cockwarming | Sappy ending because OP is a giant bb that just wants to be loved

“Bo-Bokuto, gods, please,” you damn near sob, the pleasure coursing through the whole of your body setting your hands to feebly grasping at the sheets, your face, and anything else you can reach in an attempt to ground yourself.

For his part the man above you is distinctly unamused, though for the life of you, you cannot figure out why that is–

“That’s not my name, baby. Not when I’m taking you like this.”

Oh. That.

In all honesty, you don’t think anyone can blame you for the slip up—after all, the pair of you were little more than acquaintances just a week ago. Sure, you’d been keeping up a line of friendly banter on those not-so-rare occasions when he decided to grace your little deli with his presence, and yeah you could reliably call him a regular at this point, but still you’d hardly been expecting him to ask you out when he bounded through the door last Friday. What’s more you didn’t think that your very first date would go so well that he would be taking you on another just a few days later, and finally a third one two days after that. To say that the pair of you are speed running your relationship is an understatement, and yet somehow things don’t feel rushed in the slightest.

This is more than likely due to what you’ve now dubbed the ‘Bokuto Effect’.

Said effect seems to lend an air of stability to actions that would otherwise leave you recoiling. And how can it not when he’s just so… him. Kind and sweet, caring and compassionate… You may not have known him for long, but you’re thoroughly convinced that there’s not a malicious bone in this man’s body. This is why you allowed him to follow you up to your apartment tonight, despite it having been technically less than a week of your being together—gods, are you even together? You have no idea as you’ve yet to actually talk about anything even remotely close to that, much less bothered about putting a label on it. There’s no time to consider something that ultimately feels tangential when you’re in the middle of falling at a breakneck speed.

(You can only hope that he feels the same, this quickening that has you casting aside a lifetime’s worth sensibility and letting him in like this. It’s hard to tell when he’s always smiling, always laughing, always keeping it light and bubbly and wonderful…)

In the now Bokuto—no, Koutaro—parts his lips around a particularly vicious looking grin. “I know you know it, sweetheart—so say it. Say my fucking name, right the fuck now.”

You try, you swear you do, but when he’s drilling so deeply into you, his thick head scraping against that one spot with every drag of his thick cock… words become understandably difficult. You slur out something with roughly the same composition as the appellation (you think) but valiant though they are, your efforts are not enough to appease him. The sound of his laugh paired with the glint in his eyes has you shivering underneath him. Who knew he could wear ‘cocky bastard’ so well?

“Aww, listen to you,” he coos, condescension dripping from every syllable. “Cock drunk already, baby? Can’t say my name because you can’t remember it, huh? Well lemme help you out.”

Suddenly the legs that had been tossed over his broad (so, so damn broad—fuck) shoulders are being pushed up against your chest with the whole of his impressive weight following closely behind. Your resulting scream is loud enough that you’re sure to get a noise complain or several, and maybe even a visit from the cops if your neighbors confuse your bliss for a legitimate cry for help. But those are all distant worries, things that cannot find a permanent home in a mind that is far too clouded with lust and a resounding chant of more-more-MORE.

You claw at his back as he bottoms out over and over again, marking territory that you’re not entirely sure is yours to claim; the sounds that are pouring out of you all the while would be mortifying, you’re sure, if you weren’t so lost in the sex fog. For his part, the man above you is just as vocal, with a series of hisses, groans, and chuckles falling past his lips as he works at dismantling you, piece by needy piece. It seems to take him a few moments to remember his original goal—or maybe it’s more so a case of an artist admiring his work—but once he does…

“Kou- “-tar- “-o.”

He fucks the syllables into you, growling them directly in your face each time his hips come to press flush against the plush of your ass and thighs. He repeats it again and then a third time before he palms the bottom half of your face. That he can cover such an impressive area with just one hand should probably unnerve you, but as it stands the size disparity only makes you hotter. You moan into his grasp only to have the sound scale up into a squeak when he smooshes your cheeks inwards with a flex of his fingers. The movement sees your lips jutting and puckering in what you’re sure has to be an extremely unflattering matter, but if he minds the view he doesn’t show it.

“Come on, pretty baby,” he starts, voice surprisingly even (or maybe not, given his job’s stamina requirements), “I know you’re feelin’ good, but that doesn’t excuse your bad behavior. Now say it with me—Kou-tar-o.”

“Kou- Kou—ahh~! Fuck, so good–”

He tuts at that, his grip going that tiny bit tighter. “Focus, baby. Kou-”

“Kou-” you repeat, the breathy quality of your voice reducing the sound to little more than a pant.

“-tar-”

“-tar-”

“-o.”

“-oo-ooo shit!”

When you feel the first brush of his fingers against your sex the only thing that keeps you from vaulting straight off of the bed is the sheer size of him. You’d been so focused on getting things right (on giving him what he wants) that you hadn’t noticed his free hand moving to what little space there is to be found between you. Years of honing his craft has left the thing roughened with thick callouses; they had felt a bit odd against your own smoother palm when he’d held your hand earlier in the day, but feeling them now… The scrape is addicting, adding an extra delicious layer to the pleasure of him working over your core with a precision that shouldn’t be possible as this is the first time you’ve been together like this–

Just yet another result of the Bokuto Effect, you suppose.

Koutaro kisses you deeply then, greedily filling up his lungs with your moans even as he empties out your own. When he breaks away with a growled pant some long seconds later he’s all wide, wild eyes and pouring praise.

“That’s good, baby—fuck, it sounds so good when you say it like that. K-keep doin’ that f’me, yeah? Keep screaming my name and I promise I’ll make you feel so, so good– Gods, you’re so good…”

And he’s as good as his word.

Every utterance of his name sees him taking you harder, impossibly deeper, and faster. It’s a loop of pleasure that is all too easy to fall into; your whimpering cries giving him what he wants as his rolling hips work hard to give you what you need. Sweat darkens the lighter strands of his hair at the base turning the pale silver into something more akin to slate, with the salty liquid occasionally breaking past his hairline to slide down the chiseled contours of his face. Knowing that he—a professional athlete who is in near godly shape—is fucking you hard enough to actually break a sweat is a heady thing, one that draws you yet closer to your end.

With your orgasm so close at hand your brain’s higher functions all but cease. All there is in this moment is you and him and the one word that is left to you: Koutaro.

“Sound so pretty,” he tells you before pressing a quick kiss to your mumbling lips. “Gods, babe, I’m close—so damn close, I– ah-ah-ah shit!” A particularly decadent roll of his hips nearly sees you both shaking apart right then and there, but he pulls back some—just a bit, just enough to draw things out a little longer.

“‘M close,” you tell him a short while later, your declaration sounding more like a lament than anything. You don’t want this to end, but at the same time you need it to if only for your poor battered hole’s sake. “Fuck, Kou, please…”

He softens a bit at that, those molten pools of gold syruping with something tender as he takes in your fucked out expression. “I got you, baby, I promise—you cum when you need to, ‘kay? Do it and I’ll be right there with you…”

This touch of gentleness is well at odds with the way he continues to take your body through its paces, and that dichotomy is the very thing that finally drives you over the edge. You manage to eke out his name one final time, and the choked cry is enough to see him falling into bliss with you. His hips stutter compulsively as rope after hot, thick rope of cum shoots into you. You can feel it squelching out of you every time he pulls back, the liquid gliding warm and viscous over your skin to drip down and pool underneath you in a small puddle that’s only going to get bigger when he pulls out—if he pulls out. It certainly doesn’t seems as if he plans to anytime soon, not with the way he’s kissing you all over your face and neck, the ministrations cut through with praise and little love-drunk giggles.

Once he’s come back to himself, Koutaro flips you both over so that you’re resting against his chest—single-handedly, a thing that’s way hotter than such a simple action should be—with his softened cock still tucked snugly inside of you. You can tell the exact moment his skin makes contact with the cooling wet spot because he yelps before jerking you both over to the left. You’re just as love-drunk as he is apparently because you cannot stop giggling all the while, giddy at the return of the silly antics that had drawn you to him in the first place (not that you mind seeing this other, darker, more mature version of him at all).

He tilts your head up towards him for a short, sweet kiss before asking, “What ya laughing at, pretty?”

“You.”

“Wow, rude.”

“Whatever, you like it,” you tease as you prop yourself up against his chest.

“I mean… yeah,” he concedes with a laugh, “but only because it’s you.”

There’s a tenderness to his gaze that turns the simple phrase into an admission and you find yourself ducking your head in an attempt to conceal just how flustered it’s left you. Suddenly the scar underneath his right pec is the most interesting thing in the world, and you find yourself lightly tracing over it as you mutter out a quiet, “Oh really?”

“Mmhmm.” As the onomatopoeic sound vibrates through his chest and up into you it somehow manages to carry far more truth than something more elegant could ever hope to—because it’s real, because it’s him.

“I like you a whole helluva lot, ____,” he continues on, “and if I’m being completely honest I’m really hoping that I didn’t screw things up.”

That’s enough to get you to look up again, and Koutaro takes in your confused look with a sheepish expression of his own. “Yanno, with all of this.” He gestures vaguely over the length of your still naked bodies. “I, um… I have a tendency to go full tilt when it’s something I want, but that’s not always the move when it comes to relationships—or am I presuming too much in calling what we’ve got a ‘relationship’? I don’t think I am, not with the way you’re smiling, but…”

You swat at his chest and earn another heart stopping kiss for your troubles. The man—your man?—underneath you gives you his signature megawatt grin, though it fades into something softer and more intimate as he regards you.

“I think you’ve already given me your answer, but just to make sure—can I call you mine?”

You trail your fingers over the expanse of his well-defined jawline before cradling his cheek in your palm as you tell him, “Only if I can call you mine, too.”

He huffs out a laugh as he nods a bit before nuzzling into your hand. “Yeah, definitely.”

“Good.”

“Great,” he amends.

“Fantastic, even.”

“Stupendous.”

“Amazing.”

“Wonderful…”

The pair of you carry on like that for a good while, exhausting your vocabularies and arguing over synonyms in between laughter and sweet kisses until rumbling stomachs demand their due.

|| Bonus

Imagine sitting in Bo’s lap while he feeds you your snack of choice. You’re both still nude because why the fuck not, tho he has opted to get you a nice, soft blanket to burrito in. So anyways, he feeding you while you guys are watching something on the television, and he finds said something v. interesting—so interesting, in fact, that the next morsel he feeds you gets shoved damn near into the back of your throat.

Cue him laughing out an apology for gagging you—“I didn’t do it on purpose, baby, I swear!”—and kissing away the compulsory tears that are streaming down your cheeks from nearly having your life ended by a set of ridiculously long fingers and a fucking Dorito or whatever the fuck he was feeding you lmfao…

© notepadsandtealeaves, 2021 || Please do not repost, translate, or otherwise alter or distribute my works without my express permission. And for the love of god keep it away from Youtube and TikTok lol…

[jungxk]

just one (viii)

summary: the only guy on campus who’s track record trumped that of your best friend’s - park jimin - was jeon jungkook. not that that was a problem…until he set his sights on you.

notes: first of all i wanna thank the people who supported me and encouraged me through one of the worst writers blocks of my life. all the messages and comments are the reason why i finally managed to post this. special thanks to @whippedforkook for helping me with the monstrous tagging process as well as giving me so much praise. and also @lonelyending for cheering me on for a literal YEAR bc thats how long i cried over this fic! this story is so special to me. we’re in the home stretch now x

warnings: mentions of illegal drug use and distribution, swearing, brief smut.

genre: drama, romance, humour, college!au

wordcount: 8k

tagging: @cutechim @benz-biarritz @gyukult @bangulin @eatersanonymous @alyssa1926 @skivv1es @a-sucker-for-them-sappy-shit @moonights @jeymuffins @juuneaux @catsukiii @andreaisaac @whatheydontunderstand @sreveles @noruls619 @henryharios @just-a-fuxked-up-kid @befriendswithj @btsbesharam @poemsandpunani @taelha @misosoup-forthesoul @jikooksmut @heart-eyedmf @the-piano-woman @angrysunshine @chaoticpaperfanhoagie @jsungshine @ci-yen @faby-montana @shinypeanutsportshero @jooniestrivia @alucards-s @cynamyngirl @jiminie-angel @myskoova @jkshoneybuns @smokintae @remmykinsff @majinbuwu @jangx2manboongx2 @potatodogs @seul-queen @alpharyth @blenxxxg @plsky @th-singularity @bapbaptothetop @hermiones-enchantment @stomachfilledwithbutterflies @euphorora @supachloe94 @jiminxjimout @ggukkieland @just-another-fic-recs-blog @jalexad​

part i // part ii // part iii // part iv // part v // part vi // part vii // part viii // part ix // part x

x

4 years ago

x

jimin hated yugyeom.

well, maybe hate was a strong word. he just didn't like talking to him, being around him, hearing his name or interacting with him on any level, social or otherwise. he really tried though, since he was one of jungkook's closest friends and still respectfully referred to him as hyung above all else. and if anything, jimin would always have a soft spot for jungkook, the kid he used to coddle when his own brother wasn't around. but having said that, there wasn't really much basis for not liking yugyeom. it was just a gut feeling jimin couldn't explain, a very subtle callousness about him only jimin could pick up on. for the most part he was just like very other mild mannered boy by day and party animal by night, but jimin still ducks when he sees him enter the library.

"fuck," he hisses under his breath, scooping up his laptop to stride behind a book shelf for good measure. because sometimes, contrary to popular belief, jimin wanted to be alone. he didn't want to make small talk or listen to someone tell him about how well they scored on their last paper or complain about their annoying girlfriend. sometimes jimin wanted to have no thoughts and listen to fleetwood mac as per his human rights. which is why he shoves into the first private study room he sees.

and not an empty one at that. there's a girl inside, sitting cross-legged in her chair at a desk with an array of dried up paint tubes and brushes surrounding open sketchbooks. you don't look annoyed or even that phased, just amused as you give him a once over before going back to painting. "on the run from solji?"

jimin blinks, back still pressed against the door. "huh?" he regards you properly. "i'm sorry, have we met before?"

"not really," you admit with a sheepish smile, which is when jimin suddenly realises that you're...attractive. "solji is in my stats class. you hooked up with her last week at some party and she told me about it."

"oh," jimin takes in your plethora of art supplies. "you don't look like a stem student."

there's a glimmer of something in your eyes, and though you hide it well jimin knows he's struck a nerve. "yeah, i get that a lot."

"it's not solji by the way," jimin clarifies. for some reason. "that i'm hiding from. just a bellend i don't have the energy for right now."

you smile. "it's fine. you don't owe me your life story."

"i do when i'm about to impose on your...study time," jimin peers through the window in the door, wincing when yugyeom enters the hallway. "what would it take for you to let me stay in here for a while?"

you pause for a second. "honestly? just be quiet and leave me alone. is that okay?"

jimin perks up, a weight leaving his chest. "perfect, actually."

x

x

x

[jungkook 11:42pm]: why does it say wings on it

[jungkook 11:42pm] where is it flying

[you: 11:43pm] ffs kook

[you: 11:44pm] im still on the toilet can u just hurry up

[you 11:44pm] grab some tampons too pls

[jungkook 11:46pm] fine what size pussy do u wear

[you 11:46pm] i hate u

[jungkook 11:53pm] ???? ? ? well? ????

[you 11:54pm] REGULAR 

jungkook giggles at his phone, already having left the women's sanitary aisle to grab some chocolate. months later and teasing you was still bundles of fun. he knew for a fact that you were sat there with that angry pout on your face, nose crinkled. he had never bought anything like this before, but jungkook had enough brain cells to know that chocolate was another necessity for that time of the month. after grabbing a large hazelnut bar, he pauses beside the oreos before grabbing a packet of those too. just for good measure. he strides to the self checkout - because even he wasn't man enough for the cashier yet - nearly dropping his array of sanitary products and confectionary when somebody calls out his name from behind the queue.

"kook!" the voice is unmistakably yugyeom's, confirmed by the hand that clamps jungkook over the shoulder and swivels him round before he could think about hiding his socially compromising shopping items. it takes a second for yugyeom to notice, doing a double take at the pads atop his small tower of goods. he holds back a laugh, balancing a bottle of gin in one hand while he waves back at some friends to continue. they were clearly making their pit stop before a night out, probably pre's if they still start as late as jungkook remembers. with his hair styled and expensive cologne lingering, jungkook almost forgets he probably looks unrecognisable in his sweats and cotton-fresh hoodie. friday nights weren't for cuddling. still, yugyeom's smile is welcoming and familiar. "got the munchies? and maybe also a uterus?"

"shut up," jungkook grumbles, averting his eyes. he shifts to his other foot uncomfortably. "my friend just needed a favour, that's all."

"uh huh," yugyeom gives him a teasing look. "is this friend the reason why i barely saw you at jin's the other week?"

jungkook blinks back at him. "wait, you were at that party? i had no idea!" a boyish smile breaks over his face. "why didn't you call me? i haven't seen you since-"

"minseok-hyung's new years eve party," yugyeom throws his head back with a laugh. "remember how we ended up on a boat after the ball dropped and-"

"spent all of new years day detained by the coast guard!" jungkook finishes with a mischievous cackle of his own, nearly dropping the tampons in the process. "fuck, that was so much fun! we need to meet up again, i haven't been out with the guys in so long."

"well no wonder," he quips a brow at jungkook's shopping again. "word got out you're a family man but i didn't believe it. until now, that is."

jungkook's smile falls. "what do you mean?"

yugyeom looks at him for a second, confused by jungkook's surprise. yugyeom was never quite as diplomatic as namjoon or yoongi, to put it lightly. and definitely nowhere near as accomodating as jimin. which is why his next words make jungkook's back stiffen. "bro, look at yourself. you got dairy milk in one hand and tampax in the other. on a friday night. the next time i see you i wouldn't be shocked if you had a baby buggy and a mortgage." still, yugyeom throws him an apologetic look. like a mouse caught in a trap. "face it, kook. you're old news."

"what? that's not true," his brows furrow unhappily. "i don't know what you're talking about. it's not like she's my..."

he can't say the word, but it hangs between them like a dead weight.

"yeah, right," the condescending look on yugyeom's face was starting to agitate him. "you totally blanked us at jin's after she showed up. not even just jin's..." he thinks twice about holding his tongue, but as always, decides against it. "i don't know you, jungkook. whoever this new jungkook is. it's been months. you used to hit us up and be independent and spontaneous and wild and now you're just...someone's boyfriend.

"stop fucking saying that," jungkook snaps, all visible signs of friendliness gone.

"why?" a beat. "do you even use a wrap with her anymore?"

jungkook splutters, heat rushing to his ears and hands in a stinging combination of anger and embarrassment. "how is that any of your business? the fuck are you asking me something like that, as if you-"

"thought so," yugyeom looks away from him with a sigh. if anything, yugyeom knew never to overstay his welcome but that clearly backfired tonight. "whatever, jungkook," he looks over his shoulder at him. "guess you're the last one to find out you're officially married."

"you're ridiculous," jungkook scoffs. "all this over condoms? grow up, yugyeom."

"only couples do it raw," yugyeom turns away from him, alcohol in tow as he waves a hand over his shoulder to join his friends like jungkook was nothing but a lost cause. "you would remember that if you still had game."

jungkook stands there, dumbfounded while the group of boys exit the store noisily but he can't hear a thing. the siren that had been itching the back of his mind all this time was suddenly there at full force, right between his eyes. the glaring truth that yugyeom might be right makes his knees buckle. all those rules jungkook once had, all those measures he kept in place to protect his liberty, to prevent this very occurence - where were they? what happened to them? as the sweet and accommodating counterpart to jimin, why had you never complied? though, the blame wasn't on your hands alone. he got complacent, comfortable. lenient. and now without even realising he was here, a scene from a romcom in the middle of the night, with nothing to say for himself but fuck. the realisations wouldn't stop racing, one after another on the conveyer belt of his anxiety.

the photos on his phone; mostly you. time spent, usually with you. the portfolio for his latest photography module also had some resemblance to your interests. charcoal pencils, night drives, orchids. like the ones you always drew on any scrap of paper lying around. now that he thinks about it, he's seen nothing but your orchids for months. and not just that - you wore his clothes sometimes too. his bathroom had your toothbrush, contraceptive pills and coconut shampoo. his closest friends, his hyungs...not one of them was devoid of affection for you. he wasn't even confident that if the choice was presented, they would still pick him over you.

by the time jungkook finishes paying and practically sprints to his truck in a daze, he can hardly keep himself from shaking. he palms the wheel compulsively, he could feel the sweat in his sideburns, hoodie suddenly suffocating him. it smelled of you.

and then, like a final curtain call: was he just your latest fixer-upper project? some good girl wet dream to play out in the wake of your emotionally traumatic past? a slap in the face to seokjin, maybe, and nothing more? when you were done, when he was out of your system, when you knew his taste by heart and had nothing new left to try - would you stay? did you even know how to?

did he?

jungkook starts the engine. he drives to your door, drops your bag of snacks and pads on the porch, and texts you before leaving. he does not go inside.

x

x

x

"you sure you'll be okay with just the boys?"

you scoff at seulgi when she pins you with a worrying look, taking some of her clothes out of her bag to re-fold them just so you had something to do with your hands. jisoo had already left for the long weekend with her family, so there was no one there to fill up the empty space between your awakward reply. you didn't know how to tell the girls that jungkook hadn't contacted you in nearly a month. and even though he was a notable flight risk from the beginning, you couldn't help but feel like there was hostility there. every now and again he'd at least send a nude or have a quick phone call when he was drunk or high at three in the morning, but you hadn't heard a peep from him. you couldn't stand the idea of someone you cared about harbouring comtempt for you, but the fear of reaching out and somehow making the situation worse outweighed it tenfold. 

you look up to see seulgi still staring at you with concern. "of course i'll be fine! they're boys, not piranhas."

"at least piranhas contribute our ecosystem. boys just cause problems for the hell of it," seulgi lays a hand on the crown of your head like a berating big sister, swivelling you to look at her in your fit of giggles. the urge to nestle you under blankets like a baby bird made her chest heave, and you could tell. "i'm serious. if jimin tries anything, call me immediately okay?"

"jimin?" you snort. "out of a room full of delinquents, my ex, and taehyung, you're worried about jimin of all people?"

seulgi wrinkles her nose. "god, when you say it like that its like i'm throwing you to the dogs." she pauses. "something's up with jimin. i don't know what it is, but he's...off."

you tilt your head innocently, remembering the brief interaction you had with hobi at seokjin's party. you had been so caught up in jungkook - or lack thereof - you hadn't thought to press him about it afterwards. in truth, jimin remained as...jimin as ever. if he was acting differently you certainly couldn't tell. "you think so?"

"mmm," she leans on the lip of the open suitcase thoughtfully. "but maybe with jungkook there, he'll behave himself."

you gulp, fiddling with his watch on your wrist anxiously. "maybe."

x

x

x

you nearly yelp when you feel a big hand swivel around your waist, bucking into the kitchen counter reflexively. jungkook always did this before rubbing his boner against your ass, but the light scent of citrus and short squeeze lets you know immediately that its taehyung. hoseok, jimin, namjoon and yoongi were still in the living room playing video games, giving taehyung the perfect opening to intercept you. namjoon and yoongi had insisted that you come over to their place after finding out you'd be alone for the weekend, and you had completely refused before taehyung's coaxing. and of course, jimin's persuasive nudging. even though you felt safe and relaxed here, it felt wrong to be in jungkook's friends' place without him. almost like a breaching of an unspoken boundary.

and clearly, taehyung picked up on your discomfort by the way he stared at you so softly. his back was to the sink, his sillhouette particularly long and lean this evening. "you need to lighten up, princess. you keep looking over your shoulder so much it's making me nervous!"

your visibly droop with a sigh. "i'm sorry tae. i've had a lot on my mind lately, and..."

he claps his hands on your shoulders, teeth peeking through his grin. "you're not doing anything illegal by being here without jungkook."

you wince at his name. "have you always been able to read my mind like this?"

"absolutely," taehyung's brown eyes look so rich up close. "you're allowed to have friends that are also his friends, because - and try to stick with me on this - relationships between people are allowed to be independant from the primary circles they met in. mind boggling concept, i know."

you wack him on the chest until he laughs. "stop making fun of my anxious thought processes! its called mental illness, sherlock! i can't help it!"

his nose scrunches cutely, enjoying your first fiery outburst of the day. "whatever. i call it not getting laid for a month and losing critical thinking abilities from it."

you gape at him indignantly while taehyung roars with laughter. "you're such a dickhead," you hiss through gritted teeth, yanking his hair and jabbing your fingers in his sides the way you would with jimin during a tickle fight. "whores have feelings too, taehyung! whores have feelings too!"

you both fall about with laughter, knocking over half the snacks on the counter in the process which only makes the pair of you laugh even more. it's such childish chaos trying to clean up the mess on the tiny kitchen floor that neither of you notice the front door open, or the gust of metaphorical and literal wind that follows. watching taehyung trying to salvage a bag of broken crisps is just so funny that the presence of an another voice in the living room goes unregistered, as do the footsteps leading up the hallway to the kitchen, so you have no time to brace yourself or properly pull yourself together with you see-

"...jungkook."

yours and taehyung's heads snap to the doorway. jungkook stands there with almost complete lack of emotion on his face to the pair of you kneeling in crumbs and napkins. there's a brief pause where the tension in your eye contact alone was so strong that it felt wrong to breathe. but it is shortlived. jungkook tiptoes over you like spilled milk, reaching for a glass of water. you and taehyung lock eyes while the tap runs in the awkward silence. "hey. you okay?"

"um," you're not sure whether to stand up, hug him, look at him, or even face him. "yeah! yeah, i'm fine."

he nods politely. "hyung?"

even taehyung looks visibly uncomfortable. "i'm good."

"cool. see you later," he says, downing the glass impressively fast before leaving the room just as fast as he entered it.

you and taehyung stare at each other again, not understanding why you both feel like kids caught eating cake before dinner. you could feel the sweat pricking at your back from the realisation. jungkook had no idea you'd be here, and given that interaction he'd probably want to leave now. there was always the inkling woven between his radio silence that he was done with you, but you never let yourself take it seriously out of logic. because how could months of passion and tenderness and honesty be undone so irrevocably like that? it didn't make sense. you hadn't changed. you were the same girl he hit on relentlessly and chased against all odds. so what was different now?

"____," taehyung calls your name gently, and it's only then you realise you're already up and trailing after jungkook into the living room. when you walk in he's already putting his shoes on to leave again, barely making eye contact with you while he chats absently to his hyungs so he can look busy. the four boys on the large sofa can only reply wearily, eyes darting between the pair of you like a firework was about to blow to soon. and it was.

you could feel it in your throat, under your breast bone, bubbling up your stomach. "wait, jungkook. um...h-how have you been? i haven't heard from you in-"

"i've been good," he keeps tying and re-tying his laces without looking up. "super busy. you know how it is."

his curtness makes you flinch. this same time last month jungkook used to kiss you senseless before he had both feet in the door. he'd ring the doorbell incessantly like a child and greet you with the biggest, toothiest grin you had ever seen. he'd make fun of your bed head and squeeze your cheeks until you'd snap at him. and now when he looked at you he hated every second of it. your mother had the same look. your eyes start to burn involuntarily. "yeah, i do. how is uni? your final project is due soon, right? what theme did you pick in the end?"

"the one i told you about," he stands up abruptly. "sorry, noona. something came up. i'll see you arou-"

"something came up?" you step closer to him. "something came up the second you saw my face? or did you really just trek all the way to your hyungs' place for a glass of water, jungkook?"

jungkook stiffens, but is determined not to lose face. and it's difficult to do under your big, accusatory eyes and jimin's death stare at his back. the whole room was waiting for his response, so he just shoves his hands in his pockets resolutely. "i needed to see yoongi hyung, but i can come another time."

you fold your arms. "well it's clearly important, and you're here now. so don't let me stop you."

"but you will stop me," jungkook snaps. "that's the problem."

"kook-ah," yoongi warns quietly, but he took one look at your face and knew the damage was done. jimin was already standing up, circling around the back of the sofa towards you. the red lights were all there; your watery eyes, your trembling hands. every breath you took looked difficult for you to complete and only jimin noticed.

"what are you talking about?" you squint. it takes you a second to understand; yoongi's guilty expression, jungkook's indifference. "oh, you're fucking kidding me." your resolve breaks for a second turning away only to glare back at jungkook with so much fire you can hardly stand it. "you're selling again? are you insane, jungkook?"

"see," jungkook's eyes are stony. "i knew you'd get this way."

"what other way am i supposed to get?" his lack of response only infuriates you more. it felt disrespectful. "jungkook, you're not a kid anymore. if you get caught with drugs the consequences are serious! forget the potential jail time, you could get kicked out of university, it would go on your record forever and-"

"stop talking to me like i'm a kid!"

"then stop acting like one!" you hate raising your voice, but it keeps climbing without your approval. "did you think about this for even five minutes? this isn't like just going to juvie like before and being done with it jungkook. your hyungs can't bail you out of everything."

"this is a lot of talk for someone who lapped up those fancy paints without a second thought," jungkook says darkly. his eyes aren't like you remember, his face solemn and near unrecognisable. "or did you think that getting that kind of money overnight is only something that's possible through daddy's credit card?"

dread blooms like a garden inside you. "that's...that's how you bought the paint set?"

"welcome to the real world," he quips. "as if selling overpriced weed to a bunch of pick-me-freshmans is considered a crime against humanity to anyone but you."

"you think that's why i'm yelling at you right now?" your voice was growing hoarse, desperate. "you think that's the problem i have with you being literal drug dealer, jungkook?"

he hates it. the sweltering silence, the judgmental eyes digging into his back, the slow realisation that the tears in your eyes were not at him but for him. jungkook's ears ring enough to make him sway on the spot if his feet weren't planted so firmly on the dingy carpet, this metaphorical ground. he couldn't shake the feeling that his lifestyle was only an issue now because of you, how he never felt a shred of guilt about any of this shit until he met you. and if there was anything that jungkook never responded well to, it was pity. and he could feel it from every person in the room, all people that that once cherished and coddled him until you came along. he swallows, throat dry from the way he couldn't look at you knowing what he was going to say next.

"you're embarrassing yourself, noona. you're not my girlfriend and you never were, so stop acting like it."

cotton. it's very faint, under the layers of conflicting cologne and beer and smoke, but jungkook still smelled of cotton while he spat acid. nobody could speak, even though jungkook never raised his voice let alone a hand to you, it still hit like a slap in the face. it sunk into the walls, your clothes, suddenly every hair on your body felt heavy with it. dirty. the shame came first, the humiliation next. and then the sorrow, the dread, and finally the defeat. you knew the stages well by now, and they were cycling through you like clockwork. how foolish you were, to make the same mistake again. nobody dared to move, everyone but jungkook staring at you in denial and horror. they couldn't believe their eyes when you nod steadily, bowing your head to the floor.

jimin is already slotting himself between you, his jaw tight. "that's enough, kook. just leave already."

"no," you stop him, unnervingly resigned. that single word cuts through all six men with ease. "he's right." you step around jimin, closing the space between you and jungkook. for a brief moment he wonders if you'll actually hit him, but somehow watching you unclasp his watch from your wrist and drop it on the coffee table in front of him is far worse. the sound seems to ring like church bells, definitive and umistakable. "you're right, i'm not your girlfriend. you win jungkook."

they all watch you leave in dismay, listen to the door closing softly behind you. within a second jimin sprints after you, calling your name, leaving everyone else dumbfounded. jungkook's stare could bore a hole into the abandoned watch on the table, still ticking away like nothing changed. like his eyes weren't burning, lightheaded at the realisation that he would never wear a watch again let alone the one he put on you.

x

x

x

to an outsider, you looked like you were coping well considering you just got dumped in front of all your friends. but jimin knew that face. your stony eyes, lips pulled thin as if to seal inside the collapse of a monument. you took the tea he offered, and then his arms, your face finding his chest with ease. muscle memory. his torso was a tad shorter than jungkook's, his heart closer to your mouth as if the steady thumps were asking for a kiss of acknowledgement. every time you close your eyes you could see jungkooks face, hard and unforgiving and nothing like the man you trusted all this time. but it wasn't a new expression; you parents looked at you similarly the last time you saw them. it was the look of someone who had no regrets cutting all ties. and now, jungkook was behind them in a lost list of people who chose to be strangers over loving you.

jimin sighs when you cry into his chest, brushing the back of your head gently. he had been ready for this for months, but he still hated to see you this way. again. it made his bones itch, his skin crawl uncomfortably every time you weeped. the only time he considered violence was when you were crying. but he knew what to do, laying down across the sofa so you could curl up into a ball next him, head on his bicep and face smushed into the crook of his shoulder. you used to cry like this for hours and hours, his arm familiar with the prickle of pins and needles. but it was the only place you felt safe. tucked into jimin's side is where you would always belong, and that truth was more glaringly obvious than ever now.

"lets get something to eat," he offers eventually, hand craddling the crown of your head like a child. jimin's other hand on your hip is warm and heavy when he pats you soothingly. in your episodes, you responded well to touch. "what about thai food?"

"not hungry," you grumble against him.

"we could make something together?" he peers down at your lack of response. "come on, babe. you gotta eat something. you didn't even have breakfast-"

"why am i so stupid?" you whisper, a fresh bout of tears welling up.

jimin rubs your thigh. "it's not your fault."

"yes it is. jungkook gave me plenty of red flags, and i ignored all of them-"

"oh, i meant you being stupid."

you scoff. "cheers."

"what?" jimin cocks a brow when you lift your head to look up at him. he wets his lips and you follow the swipe of his tongue thoughtlessly, distracted enough by his touch and proximity that you take a second to digest his words. "it's not like any of this exactly came as a surprise. you ignored me, remember? wanted to flex your big girl pants."

you pull away from him and sit up, forcibly shutting out the daze that jimin routinely puts you under. "what's wrong with you? can't you be polite and wait for a couple hours before laying into me like a normal person? jesus, jimin."

"so let me get this straight," jimin sits up, watching your back as you sit away from him. "you're mad because i'm not telling you what you want to hear?"

"no," you say, head shaking. "i'm not mad. i'm upset because i came here to be comforted by my friend and you're just making me feel worse."

"what do you want me to say, ____? that i had high hopes from the start?" jimin pushes his hair back, brows now at a sharp incline from frustration. "i told you starting something with jungkook was trouble but you didn't listen. why should i feed your victim complex when all i've done is try to help you?"

"victim complex?" you repeat, standing up slowly. the sudden steadiness of your voice causes jimin to panic.

"not like that. don't take it like that, it's just," he's suddenly before you, his warm hands palming up your arms warmly. "i didn't wanna see you get like this and it happened anyway, is all i'm saying." he sighs when your scowl doesn't let up. "if hobi hyung hadn't have given up so easy, then maybe…maybe this would never have happened. maybe if i had been harsher with him then you would have-"

"what are you talking about?" you ask quietly, searching jimin's face. "give up so easy? what's that supposed to mean?"

he looks away, hands slipping off you. "it's nothing."

"jimin."

he struggles to look at you, tongue in cheek. his lips purse for a moment, pink like roses. he's wearing that navy jumper you like. "look, it's not a big deal. he wasn't supposed to fuck you or anything, just take you out for a while. get your mind off kookie, show you a nice time."

your blood runs cold. "what?"

jimin's expression softens. "it's not as bad as it sounds-"

"really?" your voice is sharp, sharper than he's ever heard it. you recoil as if you had been struck for the second time today. "because it sounds like you asked some guy to keep me occupied like i'm a fucking dog. all because you can't stand the idea of me being within a meter of jungkook-"

he steps in, but you step back. "you know that's not true, _."

"don't i?" you scoff, covering your face in disbelief. "jimin, you've been hellbent against me even looking at the guy since day fucking one."

"because i didn't want you to get hurt!" jimin counters, eyes downcast. "i know, okay? i know how much of a dick it makes me sound, but its not like it hurt you when you had no idea! hoseok broke it off before you even knew about it so why-"

"because it's worse," you turn away from him. "you tried to control me. choose what's best for me because you think you know better than i do. sound familiar?"

his jaw sets, and it's like you can hear the twine snap in his head, the percussion of his heartbeat above yours even though he doesn't close the space between you. jimin stares at you for a long minute before drawing in a thin breath. "fine," he steps in, and you can't look away. "you want me to say it? fine. i'll say it."

suddenly the air is lace thin around you as you stare at him, waiting. jimin looks off somewhere else, somewhere you can't reach. "don't tell me you haven't thought about it, because i know you have. if i have you must have too. and lately its all i can think about - being with you, holding you, being the one who gets to touch you. and yeah, maybe it took having to see you with jungkook for me to realise how much i want all that, i put my hands up. but you have no idea what's it like to watch the person you love most get toyed around with by a time bomb like that. i've seen jungkook go through girls like underwear and i love him, god i love him, but even the idea of you being one of those wasted girls sitting outside a party crying over his sorry ass makes my fucking ears ring."

"j-jimin…" you whisper, but you have nothing to say. your hands shake.

"you deserve more than that, ____. you deserve more than waiting around for booty calls or living up to what the next guy wants. from jungkook, hoseok, anyone. you deserve someone's devotion and yeah, maybe all this time i've been too much of a pussy to give it. maybe all this time i was tiptoeing around my feelings for you because i knew if i admitted to myself that i loved you - if i admitted i was just like every other guy - i'd actually set the bar for something other than disappointment. id actually have to step up, and i didn't know if i could do it. i still don't. but if it has to be someone…it should be me."

suddenly he's holding your hands, calming the tremble that rattles them. his words bunch up together in your ears, the meaning lost amidst your awe. "jimin….jimin what are you saying? where is all this coming from, i don't...i don't understand wh-"

"i'm saying," he cups your face. "choose me." he pulls you in. so, so close. "choose me, not jungkook. not anyone else. me."

and there's a part of you that has already caved. that's already kissing him, melting into his arms like you've wanted to for so, so long. you're falling back onto the couch with him in a fit of giggles, curling back into his chest to hide your watery eyes, asking him why the fuck he took so long. you chat together between teasing kisses, pour your hearts out, maybe cry a little. later you would make tea and order pad thai and watch the office all night and fall asleep together in the living room well past dawn and then-

you close your eyes. "i can't."

"you can," jimin says, so passionately you shudder. his brown eyes are teaming with too much determination and ardour for his own good, and you both know it. its difficult to grapple with how huge a risk he's taking, because jimin never takes risks. it made the whole situation seem dire. "you know you can, ____. it's us. there's no one like us."

you don't know how you're not crying yet. you only have jimin to hold onto, hands balled in his shirt without knowing if you're about to push him away or pull him in forever. "maybe back then. maybe if you'd have said all this before," you feel empty, the beat of your pulse suddenly strong in your fingertips. "but it doesn't matter anymore."

he shakes his head in denial, his determination palpable. "of course it does-"

"i'm in love with him," you say. to jimin. to yourself. to the world, finally. "i'm in love with jungkook." holding jimin's stare isn't as difficult as you thought it'd be. "you know if you'd have done all this a few months ago…if you'd have just...i was always yours without question, jimin. and you knew it." it's his turn to bristle under the strain of your voice. "jungkook isn't perfect. i'll be the first one to admit that. he's made me cry, he fucks up, he makes mistakes. but he's never lied to me. he never made decisions for me. he never passed judgement on what i should or shouldn't do with my life. something that i never thought i wouldn't able to say about you, too."

there's a brief moment where everything stops. neither of you can believe what you just said. jimin watches you, frozen in his place as you take your bag, eyes glittering with tears when he calls for you. suddenly he's the time bomb he feared becoming, the panic in his eyes lighting them up like fire crackers. for the first time in his life, he stumbles over his words, and then his feet when you reach for the door, all composure lost. he was unravelling like a tapestry in front of you, never to be repaired, and he could feel it. "____. ____, please," jimin chokes, his cheeks blotchy. "i wanted to protect you, i was just trying to help. don't go. please don't go. i was trying to help you."

"no. you were trying to have me." you say, closing the door behind you.

x

x

x

you have no idea what time it is when you hear the bell ring incessantly.

it had been hours since you'd returned home from jimin's, but there was no way for you to keep track when your only priority was just keeping yourself afloat. you turned your phone off, drew the curtains, and resolved to alternate between sitting in seulgi and jisoo's rooms until they came back. you didn't know what else to do. when you weren't crying you were hyperventilating, and when that stopped the absence of emotion was so powerful you could barely keep your eyes open. you were exhausted but could not sleep. starving but could not eat. it was a miracle you even made it down the stairs, using what little strength you had to yank it open without even thinking about who could be on the other side in the middle of the fucking night. but at this point, you would gladly take a serial killer over jimin or jungkook.

"taehyung," you breathe when you take in his face, relieved. you must look like absolute shit because he scans your face and winces. 

"jimin told me," he says, the apology in his voice and expression was almost painful to register. "he told me everything. ____, i'm so sorry. i should have told you about the hoseok thing, i just thought it would be worse coming from me, and then i tried to force jimin into confessing but then he didn't because he's jimin, and now-"

"you're only allowed to come inside if you stop apologising," you say weakly, voice haggered from the hours of crying.

taehyung's pouty expression almost makes you smile with how cute he looks, gingerly stepping over the threshhold. "i really am sorry though."

"for what," you say monotonously, closing the door behind him while he takes off his shoes. "my inexplicably terrible taste in men? my uncanny ability to get manipulated by literally anyone who shows me a scrap of affection? or my absolutey shredded-to-shit attachment style thats barely intact let alone functioning healthily? after hoppping between the first two for a few hours i'd personally go for the latter. but whatever."

"please shut up," taehyung sighs, bringing you into his arms before you could have a second thought about it. "you need to amp up the misandry in this context. a lot of this had nothing to do with you and everything to do jimin and jungkook."

you're too tired to open your eyes, snuggling into the softness of taehyung's chest. you’re too exhausted to argue. "where did you learn the word misandry? have you been reading?"

"yeah," you can hear his big, pleased grin. "i know you and the girls have been calling me a himbo behind my back."

"affectionately," you add, peering up at him. he wipes the wetness off your cheeks, moving upstairs to your room with your hand in his. he fetches you a glass of water before putting you into bed like he's paid to do it. taehyung was the cuddliest person you had ever met, but you had rarely seen him dote on anyone. "girls love himbos. it's a compliment."

"not all girls," he mutters when he returns from the bathroom with a glass of water. "drink this, would you? you look so dry it's making me itchy."

you do as he says with a roll of your eyes. "what do you mean?" you finish your water with a big gulp. "jisoo loves dumb guys, what are you talking about?"

taehyung looks away from you, bottom lip rolling up under his teeth so fast you barely catch it. he pulls up your desk chair next to your bed, thinking long and hard before meeting your eyes again. "i don't mean jisoo."

you don't understand at first, but after staring at his face for a long minute your stomach drops. "don't. don't you fucking dare," another beat of silence. you rip the covers off you to scamble to your knees, grab your pillow and hurl it at taehyung's head. "taehyung, please don't tell me that the one remaining, healthy relationship i have with a man has also been shot to shit because i swear to god i'm gonna-"

"it's not a big deal," he says firmly, and he really does mean it. taehyung catches your wrists when you lunge at him, effectively ending your outburst before it can begin. he keeps hold of them while he stares into your eyes, watching the way they fill up with a fresh bout of tears. "i've had a crush on you for a while, so what? it's not anyone's business but mine so don't worry about it."

you try not to scream at him. "how long?"

"...since the start." he shrugs. "it's not like i could have done anything anyway. with jimin around. he’d never have it."

"but...! but..." you splutter, the highlight reel of your friendship suddenly marred before your eyes. "but you let me talk to you about boys! you gave me advice with hobi and jimin and jungkook and...! you encouraged jimin to confess to me. and the whole thing with jisoo?"

he wets his lips guiltily. "jisoo is a nice girl. i like her, but...not like you. i've always liked you."

you shake your head in horror, your face crumpling. bile rose in your throat. "so all of that...playing with my friend like that. was just to get to me?"

"listen to me," taehyung says firmly, gripping your wrists to make you look at him again. he's so close you can feel the warmth of his breath on yours, and you never realised how large taehyung's torso was compared to yours before. he could have smothered you, but he didn't. in all senses. "the way jimin and jungkook handled their feelings is on them, just like how this is on me. it doesn't matter if i'm fucking you or not, you're my friend and i'll always want people to do right by you. and that includes me."

there was nothing else to say, so taehyung wordlessly wipes your face again and fetches you more water before retreating to sleep on the couch downstairs. all the while you sat there in your bed, confused and bewildered and thoughtful. the same bed jungkook fucked you on. the same bed jimin held you in. out of all the men in your life, taehyung was the only one who treated his feelings for you with reverence. there wasn't one interaction you could think of where he made his feelings clear, where he even hinted towards wanting something more. if he hadn't have said anything tonight, in the wake of one of the most emotionally tumultuous days of your life, you would still be in the dark about it all. and that was the scariest part. you didn't know anyone else who hadn't let their feelings for you effect how they treated you. so ultimately, it was possible.

and jimin and jungkook chose not to do that. but taehyung did.

taehyung did.

when you finally pad downstairs after hours of ruminating, jisoo's bedroom door is wide open. and that's who you should be thinking about now - your friend and sister jisoo - as the sky begins to lighten with the signs of morning. you hadn't slept for over twenty four hours, you were hungry and thirsty, delirious from the whirlwind of losing the two most important men in your life in one day. but still, you are drawn to taehyung. taehyung, who never asked anything of you. taehyung, who was as silent as he was selfless this whole time. taehyung who routinely put what he wanted aside in favour of what was best for you. taehyung, who protected you without needing credit or recognition for it. taehyung, taehyung, taehyung, taehyung, taehyung-

"taehyung," you whisper scraping your nails through his hair. his eyes fluttered open, twisting his head to face you as you hovered above him. he could barely see you in the darkness. "taehyung, wake up."

"what is it?" he croaks, sitting up with half-lidded eyes and a yawn. he doesn't know how to read the expression on your face. he swings his legs off the sofa in a sitting position, wearing nothing but his boxers and tee, visibly alarmed. "what happened? are you okay?"

you take his face in your hands and kiss him. 

taehyung stiffens against you, breath drawn thin. you pull away to gauge his expression, desperately searching his eyes in the darkness. for discomfort, disapproval, anything negative at all. the absolute ardour you find instead could knock you down if taehyung didn't reach for your neck, kissing you again. you whine at the feel of his tongue, having no idea where such sudden and intense arousal was coming from. when you pull away with shaky limbs, you climb onto his thick thighs so he can feel your wetness through his boxers. taehyung grunts at the sensation, and again when you kiss him passionately and without abandon. the sweet girl every guy he knew was agonising over, suddenly in his lap. he's barely had his tongue down your throat for ten minutes and you're already rocking into him, his erection betraying his resolve.

it's better than he dreamed. 

"taehyung," you gasp, palming him now. he groans when he pulls away to look at your mouth, glistening with his saliva when you take his hand and guide it down to your arousal. "please."

[imaginearyparties]

welcome!

i'm ilana, and this is the greatest show you're ever gonna see! tonight, we celebrate 300 followers with a special performance. look out for fluff, angst, and everything in between. relax and enjoy your night at the theatre (and if you're brave, join the cast and step into the spotlight yourself).

i'm so excited to see the show you all put on! thank you so much again for the amazing experience i've had on tumblr in the last half year. break a leg! ❤️

CURTAIN: SEPTEMBER 01, 2021

to clarify, this is when you can start posting fics, not when you can start signing up for them! you can sign up for them at any point before final bows!

FINAL BOWS: NOVEMBER 30, 2021

THEATRE ETIQUETTE:

there's no word limit, but any fic over 500 words needs to have a "keep reading" feature

please warn for potential triggers or content

tag me in your fic, and tag the work with either #ip theater challenge or #ilanas writing challenge

refrain from writing about underage characters doing 18+ activites, incest, assault, and sc*t. if your blog is 18+ a note will be made on the masterlist, regardless of the individual fic's content.

writers who don't follow this blog are not only welcome, but encouraged! i just want some musical inspired fic content and to have fun. if you'd like to participate you're welcome to!

choose a character or fandom and a prompt and message me that you're doing it. there's no limit on characters or prompts, but I'll keep track of who's doing what here. if you're interested in a musical theatre song that's not on the list, just message me and tell me you're doing it!

reader insert fics, ship fics, and gen fics are welcome!

i'll be making a masterlist for the challenge and updating it every time a fic is posted.

have fun with this! I'm a musical nerd and wanted to incorporate that passion with the fandom side of things!

CAST:

you can write about any character from the marvel cinematic universe, the vampire diaries, the originals, or teen wolf

NUMBERS:

I want people to take inspiration from one of these songs, but it doesn't have to be from the specific lyric I list here. I just wanted to give a little taste of the songs for those who aren't super familiar with musical theatre. Please listen to the song before you commit for context!

FIRST DATE, LAST NIGHT - DOGFIGHT. "meet me halfway / a touch and go of don't know what to say" [ @intrepidacious for Bucky Barnes]

ALL I'VE EVER KNOWN - HADESTOWN. "all i've ever known is how to hold my own / but now i wanna hold you" [me for Steve Rogers]

NO ONE ELSE - NATASHA, PIERRE AND THE GREAT COMET OF 1812. "maybe he'll come today, maybe he came already / and he's sitting in the drawing room / and I simply forgot."

WICKED LITTLE TOWN - HEDWIG AND THE ANGRY INCH. "and if you've got no other choice, just know you can follow my voice / through the dark turns and noise of this wicked little town" [@pietrothepoltergeist for Damon Salvatore x Enzo St.John]

OMAR SHARIF - THE BAND'S VISIT. "from the west, from the south / honey in my ear, spice in my mouth"

STAY - AMELIE: THE MUSICAL. "stay where you are / don't come too close and don't go too far" [@ambrosiase for Bucky Barnes]

HOW 'BOUT A DANCE - BONNIE & CLYDE: THE MUSICAL. "you'll lose the blues and you may lose your heart" [@lady-salvatore for Bucky Barnes]

I NEVER PLANNED ON YOU - NEWSIES. "i got no use for moonlight or sappy poetry / love at first sight's for suckers, at least it used to be" [ @hellotvshowtrash for Sam Wilson]

TOTALLY F*CKED - SPRING AWAKENING. "but the thing that makes you really jump / is that the weirdest shit is still to come"

MEMORY SONG - A STRANGE LOOP. "these are my memories, these are my memories"

WHAT IS THIS FEELING - WICKED. "loathing / unadulterated loathing"

A LITTLE FALL OF RAIN - LES MISERABLES. "a little fall of rain can hardly hurt me now / you're here, that's all I need to know" [@divine-mistake for Natasha Romanoff]

CHIP ON MY SHOULDER - LEGALLY BLONDE. "with the chance I've been given I'm gonna be driven as hell" [@loving-bucky-is-easier for Bucky Barnes]

IF YOU WERE GAY - AVENUE Q. "if you were gay / that'd be okay" [@romancherry for undecided]

PULLED - THE ADDAMS FAMILY. "i'm being pulled in a new direction / and i think i like it"

FALLING SLOWLY - ONCE THE MUSICAL. "i don't know you but i want to all the more for that" [@babycap for Steve Rogers]

TEN MINUTES AGO - ROGERS AND HAMMERSTEIN'S CINDERELLA. "i have found her she's an angel / with the dust of the stars in her eyes" [@auroracalisto for Steve Rogers]

THE NEXT TEN MINUTES - THE LAST FIVE YEARS. "will you share your life with me? / for the next ten minutes" [@yelenabelovq for Carol Danvers]

NO ONE IS ALONE - INTO THE WOODS. "someone is on your side / someone else is not." [@thesewordsareallihavetogive for undecided]

WITH YOU - GHOST THE MUSICAL. "you took my days with you / took my nights with you" [@elijahs-wife for undecided]

SHE USED TO BE MINE - WAITRESS. "she's imperfect but she tries / she is good but she lies" [ @brown-eyed-babes for Elijah Mikaelson]

LIFE BOAT - HEATHERS: THE MUSICAL. "if i say the wrong thing or i wear the wrong outfit / they'll throw me right over the side"

QUIET - MATILDA THE MUSICAL. "quiet like silence but not really silent / just that still sort of quiet"

NOEL'S LAMENT - RIDE THE CYCLONE. "i sing songs until the break of dawn / i embrace a new man every night"

DANCING QUEEN - MAMMA MIA. "see that girl, watch that scene / digging the dancing queen" [@mrs-maximoff-kenner for Lizzie Saltzman]

tagging some mutuals who seem like they've got a song in their heart:

@blueberrybelova, @buckyshairography, @golden-bucky, @mickey-henry, @ritesofreverie, @alittlebitofwords, @imgoingtofreakoutnow, @belladonnabarnes, @babycap, @brown-eyed-babes, @roger-that-cap, @tripleyeeet, @divine-mistake, @jamesqueerpotter, @auroracalisto, @thesewordsareallihavetogive, @dumble-daddy, @dizzydancingdreamer, @hellotvshowtrash, @lady-salvatore, @elijahs-wife, @mikaelsonsdeservedbetter