#i love it when a dude is short and a little pathetic and passes out from the pain ofhhis arm getting cut open

[sluckythewizard]

FUCKED UPPPP that we havnt heard Shit nor Fuck about the convergence reboot. WHERE IS FERGUS!!!!! I WANT FERGUS!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[xetlynn]

an artists muse- a viktor fic.

eleven.

[ten] [eleven] [twelve]

faithful to its nature, its power never diminished.

Arms wrap around you sweetly, you lean into it. Wanting nothing more but to stay in the moment. “you’re so pretty.” And you look over to see Viktor. You smile, going in to place a kiss on his lips. It was perfect. The room was dark, only dimly lit by the laptop screen that played…

That played um… What is it playing? You pull away from the kiss, to look over at the device that was beginning to look weird. “What the-” “[Name]?” You look back over to Viktor who was now replaced by Powder. Your best friend. You furrow your eyebrows, slightly in disgust. You blink a few times.

“What?” You rasp and you hear Powder laugh, her arm rested on your waist as the two of you lay together on your bed watching a show. “Dude, you passed out.” She announces. “We’ve only watched one episode.” She tells you and you scrunch your face. Trying to register what was happening. “Sorry.” 

She raises a brow at you. “Have a nightmare or something?” Powder sits up, her arm going back to her own side. You frown momentarily at the loss of her warmth. “No, I- it was stupid.” You shrug your shoulders, sitting up as well. Staring down at your fingers as your face grows flustered. “Tell me about it.” 

You think back to the short, painfully short dream. “It was about Viktor. For the hundredth time.” You sigh, annoyed with your own brain. Creating such imagery in your own head that you now have to think about when you’re conscious. “Mm, not surprised.” Powder huffs out a laugh, leaning into you as she also pauses the show. “Thanks.” You scoff, sliding off the bed to stretch out your limbs. 

“No problem, but seriously I have a question.” Your best friend follows suit, jumping on the ground. Surely to give you guys another complaint by the people underneath you. “What?” You ask, heading over to your desk, plopping down on the rolly chair.

“Do you love him or something?” The question catches you off guard and your eyes almost pop out of your own head. “Love?” You repeat.

“Yeah, if I’m wrong you can tell me but I only ask because this is like a heartbreak [Name]. I’ve never seen you this… disheveled over any break ups you’ve had.” Powder explains her reasoning. 

And thinking back to it, she’s right. With your past relationships, that was official, you’ve never really given it another thought when it ended. It was over and yeah you were sad for a little bit but this is different.

Your chest ached with the mention of Viktor. In most dreams there he existed, holding and loving you, and each time you pleaded it was real when you wake up. Only to be left with the harsh reality that you ruined that chance of being tangible.

You beat yourself up every second you're alone. 

“I don’t know. It had only been two-three weeks of getting to know one another. I feel love is a strong word for that.” You tell her truthfully. “Did you love him when he was your online friend?” She inquires and your eyes travel over to your phone. “I had love for him. He was a close friend but can you fall in love with someone you technically never met?” You question, it was something you asked yourself quite a lot. Did you love Ma? Could you fall for someone you never saw face to face. Was that possible? And if it was, is it pathetic? 

“I think so, I mean you know who he is now. Is the feeling the same for both?” 

“Why are you interrogating me?” You ignore the last sentence, now feeling on edge on how deep this was getting. “Just curious.” She hums. “I don’t know the answer.” And truthfully you didn’t. 

Love? You don’t even know if you’ve ever truly loved someone. As time passed you believed you weren’t capable of loving someone more than a friend. With your exes it never felt right. In those relationships you were honestly miserable. No motivation, putting on a mask, and not being true to yourself. 

You couldn’t enjoy your interests. Your art is forgotten about.

With Ma… or Viktor. Both. That never happened. If anything you were more motivated.

In high school you stayed up until ungodly hours, painting, sketching out sculptures based on the sound of Ma’s voice. The colors you saw, the feelings you felt all put into your art. 

Specifically the crowd paintings you created. Crowds of people. Crowds of familiar faces but not the one you wanted to see. A face that you hadn’t gotten the chance to meet blurred out but facing you in each painting. Only one figure that stood there, staring back at you. No features attainable to recognize.

And you hated it. You wanted to know who it was.

“Wonderful ideas, wonderful models. I don’t think I’ve had such intelligent and creative students as I do this year. Take this time to inspect others' projects and mingle with one another.” Your biology professor tells the class, everyone of you standing up to his directions. 

Viktor and you stick together, unintentionally throughout the room. No words said between either of you.

You admire your fellow classmates' work, clicking through the slides on each laptop. Reading thoroughly through their slides. Silently gushing at the way they decorated their boards. Viktor observes you the entire time. 

The words of his friends stick in his mind. You don’t entirely seem upset? But if they had seen it themselves, surely they’re not lying to him. His eyes scanned your face closely. A hardened gaze, his jaw clenching subconsciously.

Did he want to see you upset? Why would he want that? To know you’re hurting just as much as he is? Would he wish that pain on someone he lo- he respects? 

No, he wouldn’t.

You look back at him with a polite smile. “Right?” His eyebrows furrow, confused. “What?” He asks hesitantly, his cheeks fell warm as he is put on the spot by you. You snicker. “I said, their work is so organized, maybe the two of you would hit it off.” You repeat, your breath now caught in your throat. Wondering if that was too friendly too soon. He glances over to the people’s work. 

It had no color, monotonous and tidy. Is that what you think of him? Bland, tasteless and… boring? 

His head bows down, a ghost of a nod. “Sure.” He dryly replies, unfortunately feeding into your worries. “Did I say something wrong?” You quietly inquire as you guys head to the next board. A clique of students pushing past you. 

“No?” He averts your eye contact. Was he actually upset that you think of him like that? 

“Oh.” You puff out your cheeks, not knowing what else to say.

The voices of others cover the awkward beats of silence between the two of you.

“Am I that mundane to you?” He was almost inaudible when he asked the sudden question. You cock your head to the side. Your mouth opens to answer but he lets out a scoff shaking his head.

“Don’t answer that.” He walks ahead of you. 

Mundane? Why would he think that? You pointed out the person’s tidiness because of how put together Viktor is. You admired that.

He preferred things a certain way, his room showed that. He still had a personality outside of that. His energy drew you in. The way he held himself, the enigmatic essence but also the familiarity you felt.

And now you know the familiarity was Ma. They were the same person.

Ma used to tell you about the moon and constellations for hours. He enjoyed star gazing. He enjoyed reading and learning about living beings. Their struggles. But also their potential to be more than who they were raised to be. 

He was far from mundane. Viktor was more than who he thought himself to be. In your eyes he was far better than perfect. There wasn’t a word for how you perceived him. Because every word seemed minimal in comparison to what you felt.  

“You found your muse?” You hear your professor behind you. You glare down at your paper then up to them. “What? No, look at this.” You express, lifting up the sketch and shaking it dramatically. “I am. It seems you found it.” They place a gentle hand upon your shoulder. 

You drew a crowd. Just like your millions upon millions of paintings posted on your instagram. How is a crowd of people your muse? Your eyebrows knit together and you look up to Dr. Shoola once more. “This is just a random sketch?” You say in more of a question. You were confused. You drew this often, but it’s not your muse. 

“You’re a silly one, [Name].” They pat your shoulder, moving onto Ekko’s sketch in front of you. Your eyes land back at the sheet of paper. Found your muse? Where?

You observed your own drawing. What are you not seeing?

This is short, I did it on purpose because twelve and thirteen are going to be longer. :) And honestly I do have a concussion and this took me hours. I probably shouldn't have been on my laptop the way I was but I had to post thisssss.

Two more chapters left.

Taglist: @policedeer @ang3lz-lov3 @im-just-a-simp-le-whore @confusedgemposts @corpsepies @almostdrowningdown @obittwo @ren-ni @xx-siren-sings-xx @donnie-is-here @urmommt

[fadedin2u]

pick up and roll the dice (ch. 1)

read in between the lines, i know you love me…

Summary: You’ve been best friends with Ellie since she moved into your neighborhood in elementary school, and now, you’re sharing a dorm room together at college. What could go wrong when you both start reading between the lines? Based on the song Hold On by The Internet.

word count: 2.5k

content: childhood best friends!au, dealer!ellie, fem!reader, college!au, modern!au, hurt/comfort, ellie’s a little bit of a player, ellie is a simp (not surprising), art major!ellie, kinda slow burn??

warnings: sexual harassment (mentioned), drug usage (weed), lots of cursing (what do you expect), men (mentioned), expect nsfw chapters in the future so MDNI 18+

notes: this is my first fic i’ve written for tlou, and it’s about damn time bc i’ve been lurking in the ellie williams x reader tags for months lmao, hope you enjoy! next chapter should be out by the end of the weekend! reblogs/likes are much appreciated :) let me know if you want to be added to the tag list!

You’re welcomed into your dorm room by the smell of pot smoke. You walk in, already in a foul mood, shaking with adrenaline and anxiety. You drop your bag on the floor and kick off your shoes.

Ellie, your roommate and close friend since childhood, is sitting on her twin bed, leaning out the window as she smokes a joint. She’s dressed casually in a pair of old sweatpants and a t-shirt, her auburn hair haphazardly thrown up into a half-bun, most strands too short to all be gathered into a single bun. When she catches sight of you, she immediately can tell something is up.

“You okay?” Ellie asks, tapping the ash from her joint out the window.

You walk over to Ellie’s bed and melodramatically collapse face-first with a “Hmmph.”

“I’m dropping out.” You deadpan, your voice muffled by Ellie’s duvet.

Ellie takes a long drag from her joint and exhales a puff of smoke before turning to you, her eyebrows raised. “Huh? What?”

She sits up, holding the joint between her fingers before she gestures for you to clarify.

“You can’t drop out. What’re you gonna do all day? Sit around and eat Oreos?”

You stay face-planted onto Ellie’s bed.

“Yup. And I’ll be lazy and happy.” You say.

It takes every ounce of self-restraint inside of Ellie to not shove you off of her bed right this second. Instead, she leans forward and nudges your shoulder with her knee.

"Babe. Honey. Sweetie. Angel-Face. Get up. You sound like a dumbass right now.”

You roll over, and Ellie notices that your eyes are red and puffy, clearly having cried before coming back to the dorm.

“Hey! I’m having a crisis!” You exclaim, folding your arms over your chest.

Ellie’s face softens and her eyebrows furrow, concerned. “Hey… What’s going on? Want some of this?” She offers the joint to you.

You take it gratefully, taking a long drag. You shake her head, looking down at your miniskirt. “I really need to stop wearing this skirt in public… When I was walking back here, two dudes started following me and saying weird, gross shit. I tried telling them off, but I must have looked so pathetic that they just laughed… They followed me almost the whole way here.”

You pass the joint back to Ellie, saying sarcastically, “So, yes. In conclusion, I’m dropping out.”

Ellie is stunned silent. Her high buzz instantly fades and she reaches out to put a comforting hand on your shoulder. Ellie doesn't say anything at first, but she looks down at you with a worried expression on her face.

She puts out her half-finished joint, and scoots forward on the bed towards you. Her expression is stern and angry, and she seems utterly furious on your behalf.

“Did those fucking pieces of shit touch you? Did you call the cops?”

As she’s speaking, Ellie’s entire demeanor changes, and it’s obvious how upset these men made her. Ellie always seems to have a lot of rage built-up inside of her, but it’s amplified now.

You bite your lip, looking down.

“They didn’t touch me… I didn’t call the cops. I wasn’t thinking clearly, I should have called someone, but I was so freaked out, and… I’m sorry, Els.” You say quietly.

Ellie grabs your arm and pulls you towards her.

"It's okay, babe. It's not your fault."

Ellie leans forward to hug you tightly, rubbing your back.

"Those dickwipes should have never said anything to you. Let alone touched you. If they ever do that again, you tell me, and I'll take care of it."

Ellie takes a deep breath and sighs. She leans back against the wall and pulls you with her, keeping you close. You allow yourself to be pulled into Ellie’s hold, grateful, and you feel tears press at the back of your eyes.

“I’m sorry, I really don’t want to cry again.” You say, hiding your face in Ellie’s shoulder.

Ellie wraps her arms around you tighter, comforting you.

"Hey. It's alright to cry. Let it all out." She murmurs soothingly. "Don't be ashamed. You were just fucking harassed."

She holds you, continuing to rub your back and kissing the top of your head. Ellie feels sick at the thought of you hurting or struggling alone.

You sniffle as a few tears run down your cheeks, still hiding your face in Ellie’s shoulder.

“I just don’t understand what I can possibly do in those situations. And I feel like they happen all the fucking time.”

You wipe your face, “Like fucking yesterday! When I got catcalled at 8AM by the construction workers working on the new science building, and I was just trying to get to class!”

You shake your head, “I just feel so helpless in those situations, because they don’t even see me as a real person.”

"Well, you gotta make them see you as a force to be reckoned with." Ellie says, her voice stern.

She pauses, and lets out an exhale.

"These guys obviously aren't going to stop catcalling and harassing women, so either we ignore the comments, or we learn how to respond. It's a fucking shame that it has to be this way but..."

Ellie sighs and leans back. She rubs your shoulder with one hand, and her other hand gently rests on your thigh.

You feel your cheeks go hot, hyper-focused on Ellie’s hand on your leg.

“But, Els… I can’t fight for shit. There’s no way those guys could ever be intimidated by me the way you can intimidate them.”

You wipe your face, embarrassed by your tears. “Like, how could they possibly see me as anything other than a ‘slut who’s asking for it’, if I recall what they wouldn’t stop saying to me correctly.” You say, quoting the men who followed you home.

Ellie leans in a little closer and rests her head on your shoulder.

"I think that my girl can kick ass and dish it out as good as she takes it." Ellie's expression looks serious, and she gently squeezes your thigh as she speaks.

"Like, have you ever seen those videos on Instagram where girls absolutely own some big dudes? That'll be you, dude. Trust me, I know exactly what you're capable of. You just gotta learn how to take up space."

You laugh a little, wiping your face again.

“Is this you telling me that I need to take a boxing class?” You ask, raising an eyebrow.

Ellie chuckles, and smiles as she squeezes your leg again.

"Hell yeah. Take a boxing class. I wanna see you punch a fuckin' guy's lights out the next time he wants to harass you."

Ellie pauses and takes a deep breath.

"If you're worried about money for lessons or fuck-all, you know I got your back, right?" Ellie says earnestly. "And if there's any guy who's giving you problems, just say the fucking word and I'll kick their ass for you."

You laugh again, sniffling as you hug Ellie.

“My knight in shining armor.” You joke.

You pull back, taking a breath. “Thank you though, seriously. Today was just an overall shitty day, and I’m just glad that I get to come back to our dorm and be with my best friend.”

"Anytime." Ellie's expression is soft as she smiles at you.

Ellie glances at the joint on her bedside table, and glances back at you.

"Wanna hit that? Or are you tapped-out?"

You go to pick up the joint, and use Ellie’s lighter to re-light it.

“Me? Tapping out? Please-“ You say as you smile at Ellie, taking a drag.

Ellie chuckles, watching you with a fond smile.

You pass the joint to Ellie. “Besides, I’m chilling the fuck out tonight. Today was garbage, and I don’t want to keep thinking about anything.”

Ellie chuckles and shakes her head as she takes the joint.

"I feel so bad that you had such a fucking awful day. I know you've been going through some stuff recently, so today was the absolute last thing you needed."

Ellie inhales a long drag, and looks down at you.

"Can I ask you something, though?"

You nod, “Yeah, what’s up?”

You take the joint, hit it, and pass it back to Ellie.

Ellie takes another inhale and holds the smoke in for a moment.

"Do you ever just... like... hate men?" she looks at you. "I mean, you know... with everything you experience, and the guys you described today. Like, you ever just look at a guy, and immediately start hating him?"

Ellie pauses, taking another hit, "I mean, it's all I can think about, half the time, and I just... I can't fucking stand them most of the time."

You sigh, taking a hit from the joint and nodding.

“Yeah. I wish I didn’t. I wish that most men didn’t act the way they do, but they do. It’s kinda hard not to hate people who objectify and demean you every day of your life just for existing.”

Ellie pauses before speaking, "Do you think that Joel might ever be like that? I mean, I don't think so. He's a good guy and all. Just... you never know."

Ellie pauses and sighs. She's obviously been worrying about this for a while.

"Am I being dumb? Am I being stupid for thinking like that? I don't know. I just… I'm worried that, one day, people I love like Jesse and my dad are going to turn out to be a couple of fucking perverts."

You pause, having known Joel for years, taking a hit from the joint.

“I- I don’t know. I think they’re good people, especially Joel, but you never really know, until they slip up,” You say.

You squeeze Ellie’s shoulder, “I do really think that Joel is one of my favorite people I’ve gotten the chance to know, and I have crazy high standards for men. Your dad would never do anything to hurt you, and I don’t think he’d do anything to any one else either.”

You pass the joint to Ellie.

Ellie takes the joint and inhales, then passes it back to you.

"Yeah, you're right. You're totally right, and I know that. It's just hard, because I have such a negative image of guys right now, but you're right."

Ellie leans back and relaxes, "I just feel like I've been having some trust issues lately, and it sucks, and I've been… paranoid about people."

She pauses, and her voice starts to falter. "I just don't want to be let down like I have, you know?”

You nudge Ellie’s leg with your knee, “Hey. I won’t let you down. Or, at least, I’ll always try to not let you down, no matter what.”

You smile at Ellie, “We’re a team. Always have been, always will be.”

Ellie's eyes light up, “That's right. We will always have each other's backs. We’re always going to be there for each other."

Ellie takes a hit from the joint, and leans back. "I love you, you know that? Even though I've been a total bitch, these last few weeks… I need you more than you could possibly know."

Ellie pauses and looks down at you. "You are, without a doubt, the best friend I've ever had in my whole life."

You take the joint from Ellie, hitting it with a smile on your face as you internally curse yourself for getting flustered. Your head feels fuzzy from the weed.

“The feeling is mutual.” You say, passing Ellie the joint.

“I never got to ask, by the way, but how was your date with that girl… Kaylee? Karlie?” You ask to change the subject, trying to remember the name of Ellie’s latest of many campus flings.

Ellie laughs, "It's Kylie." she corrects, smirking and nudging your thigh.

"The date was a fun distraction, even though Kylie is a complete airhead. And, uh..." Ellie pauses, her face warming with embarrassment.

"...she tried to kiss me, and I completely froze.”

Ellie takes a hit and shakes her head, "I can't believe that I turned her down! She's cute and a fuckin’ cheerleader. I should have gone for it, I probably ruined my chances with her."

You laugh a little, pushing down the spikes of jealousy piercing your chest.

“Ellie Williams froze when a girl tried to kiss her?” You tease, knowing that Ellie is normally fairly bold.

“What happened? Were you too nervous or something?” You ask, taking a hit from the joint and passing it back to Ellie.

Ellie's face is a mix of embarrassment and frustration as you tease her. Ellie pauses, thinking.

"...Well, I froze because... I… I don't know. She seemed like a nice girl, but she's so... shallow."

Ellie sighs, taking a hit from the joint, and leans back.

"I'm a horrible dater, I know. I just have such a hard time connecting with people, I don't know."

You frown, “Hey. Don’t beat yourself up. She just doesn’t sound like the right girl, and that’s totally fine. You don’t need to get mad at yourself for not having an instant connection with a girl just because she’s hot.”

You pass the joint to Ellie, “Okay, you have the rest.”

Ellie smiles at you as she takes a hit and holds it in.

Ellie lets it out and shakes her head. "...Yeah, you're right. I just think I'm just trying so hard to find a connection with someone, y'know?"

"It's just hard to really trust someone new… I've been hurt by a lot of people in my life, and the last thing I want is to get hurt again." Ellie explains, her freckled cheeks rosy.

You sigh, “It is really scary to be vulnerable like that with people, I… I really fucking get that.”

You play with the hem of your skirt as you talk, “But there are people who are good, and trustworthy, and won’t leave you in the dust. I mean, you’re proof of that for me.”

Ellie's expression softens as she looks over at you

"I guess we are really similar in that way. We're both traumatized, we're both paranoid, and we're both distrustful. Fuck, who could blame us?" Ellie says with a shrug.

Ellie pauses, "I'm just glad I have you. You're the only people who I think I can really be myself around. Everyone else can fuck off. But not you."

Your stoned, hazy mind is thankfully quiet as you lean against Ellie, the two of you sat side-by-side on her bed.

Ellie’s cheeks get more pink as you do, her eyes half-lidded and red as she pulls you into her.

“Just… Relax. You really fucking deserve it.” Ellie says softly, her voice low and raspy from the smoke.

You nuzzle your face into her shirt, closing your eyes as you melt into her, and everything is good.

Ellie looks down at you, her pupils dilated and cheeks flushed. She looks back up at the ceiling, clenching her eyes shut as she thinks, I’m fucked.

chapter 2

texts with ellie and reader

[paracosmic-sims]

My top 24(?) screenies from 2024!

Tagged by the lovely @changingplumbob, thank you Kirsty <3

I literally don't know if I even have taken 24 screenshots this year. Let's see...

1, 2 and 3: Some screencaps from a photoshoot I did with my revamped simself. I have MANY variations - check it out, none of those are the one on my current profile picture, or with...

4: Oh Kinha, that's cheating! That is an edit, not a sceenshot! Shhh! I literally don't think I have enough screenies to make this post. Anyways, once I can figure out how to do my tags and navigation posts, expect to see this one in my pinned <3

5: An outfit I made for Sienna that I needed to save for other kiddos too! It's so cute!

6: Vlad. What are you DOING walking around Evergreen Harbor? Not even on my lot, since Journey Delight - the founder of my personal Whimsy Legacy challenge - doesn't even have a house at this point. Just... passing by. It was like... the second night? Anyways, appreciate how marvelous this woman is (and how wacky the sims can be sometimes)

7: Speaking of personal legacy challenges, here's Hendrix Baccinus, the Mint of my NSB save. (The light makes him look blue-ish, but I swear it's mint.)

Look at him. Hot. Handsome. The male quota of this post. He is a baby and a pathetic wet cat of a man. This mfer tried to kill himself! (No joke, he autonomouslt went swimming when his energy was low on Sulani, because he was burnt out. Dude, sims used to be able to juggle a job and an Uni degree!)

I still love him <3

8, 9 and 10: Obligatory Arielly Vespertinai appreciation. Look at her. Gorgeous. My baby. Watcher's favorite (little chew toy nomnomnomnom) <3

Have you seen her? yes? Well, go look again. Until you're mesmerized enough to forfeit your entire mortal posessions to this siren of a woman. Nobody understands the amount of adoration I hold specifically for this little bean. She could kill me and I would still thank her. She consumes my thoughts almost daily even though I have an entire cast to think about so I can support your story babygirl unleash my brain!!!

Also, obligatory gloating that this woman was elected Bronze Medal in @simblorbo-bracket's 2024 SIMBLR SEXYMAN TOURNAMENT. Yes, you heard it right. She's a Sexyman. And is the Sexiest™ of the human competitors.

11: Speaking of Vespertinai's, a draft of Arielly's mom, Elysiann! Still unsure if I want them biologically related or adoptive (makes some sense with part of the lore, screws some other part. UGH.)

don't be fooled, this woman has SUCH a resting bitch face outside of CAS.

12: And on that resting bitch face note, Scione Vespertinai! Ari's younger sister, of whom I have shared custody with @momoception <3 (because someone in her game needed to simp over Lucius Holt, and given I'm his #1 fan in the real world...)

Could you tell my game's eyelashes were still broken on those last 2 pics?

13, 14 and 15: Enough of sim pics for a while, appreciate Elio Alvoretter's (aka, Ari's bestfriend, partner, and overall soulmate) (no, literally.) room. I'm insanely proud of it even if it drove me majorly crazy at some points.

(We do NOT talk about the small desk under the desk. It was fixed after.)

16: On the topic of building, a little bar decoration I made using TOOL. It took me longer than you'd expect.

17: Okay, back to sims because it's all I have at this point. I forgot this cutie's name, but she never really left CAS despite this picture. She was for a BC that never really happened, so I'm saving her for another opportunity. Maybe a spouse for one of my families. Maybe a founder for another legacy? She's kinda packed with CC, so I don't think I'll ever set her for dl.

18 and 19: Some of my girlies for other simmers! Moxie and Apolline were some of the ones I had the most fun doing, and I think that the unused photos deserve a place to shine too.

===================

Unfortunately, the most I could is still short by 5. But then again, 2024 was THE year for me, in terms of personal growth, so TS4 kinda fell behind (a LOT. Some of those pics have literal months of gaps between them)

I am not sure who has been tagged already or not, but if you're seeing this and you want to participate (even again), you're tagged!

[mysticmellowlove]

I didn’t love Bowen before but now that I knows he some pathetic little short dicked dude it’s even worse now like wow…. I want a guy that’s 6’3 now he won’t ever get a chance

That's just too bad isn't it because he'd never let you go :)

Bowen isn't above kidnapping his darling and trying to reform them in his own likeness. He does live in the city to be closer to uni but he can always buy a nice house in the countryside and do his schooling online.

Since he basically has your schedule memorised he'll mess around with your workday and make it so you have to stay later than usual. Then all he'd do is wait at your locker, just out of sight so he could get the jump on you and make you pass out.

Waking up the next morning won't be pleasant, he knows that. Besides you'd be angry at your sudden capture, or maybe even sad? So he'll give you some space. Inside the room is a bed, dresser, a desk with a computer and a small bar fridge.

Now your first instinct would be to go to the computer but he had a friend of his get in contact with someone who can jailbreak computers and such.

(cue to somewhere in the distance, a whole different country away; "Please I promise I'll be good, I promise I won't try anything, I just want to be good!")

There really isn't anything on the computer that can help you. There's a news site and the basic word applications but that's it. On further inspection, the news site seemed to be permanently frozen on a date from a couple of weeks ago. There's one email address saved under the really subtle name 'Bowen'

Really you should've already known he would pull something like this silly! When you're ready to accept this future just email him! Until then he'll continue delivering food and drink through a small dumbwaiter!

He really has planned this ahead after all!

[rattyshipss]

~Better than Spiderman~ Flash Thompson x gn!reader

Gn!reader

"Look Fla-" "Zip it Penis Parker!"

Flash waved off Peter who was currently in the process of trying to get Flash to admit his feelings for you. Peter rolled his eyes and walked away, Ned following behind after giving one last knowing look to Flash.

"You know he's actually right" Brad said before instantly regretting it with the look Flash gave him. "What do you mean he- he's right what?!" "Bro you're seriously gonna agree with Penis Parker, THEE Penis Parker, dude's out of it I'm surprised he hasn't been kicked out of the decathlon yet" Flash scoffed.

The bell rang and Flash's friends went on their way to class leaving Flash standing there with his thoughts and Mj coming up behind him patting his back like a coach consoling their player. "Poor Flash, pathetic Flash-" "What do you want?!" Mj smirked at Flash before stepping infront of him.

"Pushing people away isn't going to change your little *cough cough* huge crush"

"Don't flatter yourself" Flash said blankly. "Not me idiot, (y/n)" "I don't know what you're talking about, and since when did you care anyway?!"

"I don't, what I do care about though is having to sit there and listen to (y/n) talk about you for hours" Mj started walking to class leaving Flash's mind running like the Flash.

Now you were the one getting interrogated in gym class. "(Y/n) it's obvious you like him" "Yeah I like HIM, that doesn't mean HE likes ME" Peter rolled his eyes. "Peter there's no way Flash likes me, I'm no Spiderman" Peter nearly stared at you for a second trying not to feel sick. "First off, eww, second off there's no way Flash DOESN'T like you, ok y-you're awesome!, Look I don't like Flash, I mean who would, n-no offence, but I like you, everybody likes you!" "(Y/n) Flash would be crazy not to take you up on the chance to be with you and trust me when I say this, to Flash you're better than Spiderman!"

Peter ended up mimicking your shocked face "Oh yeah yeah I said it!" You laughed with Peter for a moment before hearing one of the loudest thuds of your life and turning around to see Flash laying upside down off of the bleachers.

"Jesus Flash are you ok?!" Flash looked up- up? down? up at you trying to quickly bring his facade again, flustered from a mix of embarrassment and having the person he has the biggest crush on standing right infront of him. "Y-yeah totally why wouldn't I be? Just passing gym over here no biggie"

Rolling your eyes you leaned down to check on his dumb ass, as much of an asshole as he is you want him to be your asshole. Flash's eyes practically staring into your soul, it's a wonder how you don't know how in love with you he is. "Ahem!" Flash looked over seeing Mj, Peter, and Ned eying him down, as much as he disdained having to do this infront of Peter of all people he knew he had to or he'd take forever to, you're the only person who could make him this nervous and he hated and loved it at the same time.

"Heyyy how about we hang out after school today, just the two of us, it'll be fun I promise, you think I could ever be boring on a date?"

"A date?" Flash looked at you terrified he shouldn't have brought up the offer. "I mean i-if you want it to be" staring down at Flash laying there upside down smiling hopefully you watched his face get red whether that's from nervousness or the blood rushing to his head thats for you to decide, he waited for your reply, which felt like hours but was in reality seconds.

You leaned down and gave Flash a short kiss unintentionally mimicking the iconic Spiderman kiss (I KNOW IT'S THE WRONG SPIDERMAN BUT I HAD TO) before stepping back and watching Flash almost slide the rest of the way down the bleachers.

"It's a date"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@lxsm2 I really hope this doesn't suck I'm so sorry if it does!😭💖

[lauralesbian]

olive listens to the second act of falsettos for the first ever time on a plane very tired and slightly loopy: a liveblog (ish)

my not entertaining, very pathetic thoughts on falsettos. not proofread or edited for typos. read at your own risk.

okay before we begin let me preface by saying im finally just taking a bit to just LISTWN to this shit and trinas song emotionally destoryed me okay. okay

why is the first line just homosexuals. i mean yeah but still

oh this goes

weirdly happy though isnt this guy gonna die

BAR MITZVAH

YABADAVA THE EIGHTIES

ooh speed mode march of the falsettos

the lesbians!!

of course shes a shiksa

WHEEEEEEEEE! WOOOOOOO!

this gooooooes

oh its marvin

“two years” are you NORMAL now

good for trina

ezcept on tje jewish holidays

WHAT NO WHIZZER???

bring him back

HOMOSEXUALS

i wanna go to falsettoland except not really cuz ot would probs suck

yeah. grow tje fuck up

MARVIN. PLEASE.

wait how is he twelve and a half i had my bat mitzvah three months after turning 13

elaborate william finn.

jason stoooop butchering the hebrew. stooooop

im gonna give him a pass simply because ive heard worse

aww the tallit belssing. i think

WALKERMAN

“the last loving thinfh we’llprobably ever do together” noooo youre so emotionally intriguing aha

the whole things WHAT now man who i think matbe js whizzer but i cant tel marvin snd whizzer apart very well is that bad

good for fucking jason

this is my mom literally

hes gonna be a jewish adult

i cant tell wahts gping on (too zzzy)

omg a lesbian

“nouvelle bar mitzvah cuisine” cordelia i love you but please do not do this. just have fucjing bagels you cant go weong with bagels

CONGA

so proud pf jason

i am NOT dxcited for when my brother starts bar mitzvah prep

this song is titled miracle of judaism it has to be good

oh hes being a little straightboy

invite none of them just be a frienless loser like i was lamoo

no i had like four people there

you are TWELVE. DUDE.

you’re not swinging a goth gf you are TWELVE YEARS OLD

oooh baseball

ooooh JEWOSH baseball

same maevin

marvin stop calling your sona pussy

oh eitght its the Eighties

jason cannot play baseball

baseball ��️ ooh empji ⚽️ 🏀 🏈

WHIZZER

go off trina. love her

of course he love sbaseball

the lesbians are silly

oh my god. middle aged man core. hes so fjcking pathetic

jason *not 2 fiture penny put photo of cat kn box head here. no service on this plane*

even bald he looks good

stop thinking about your gay love and focus on your fucking sun. loser

i would love to watch jason play badebll (loe?

h

me when i hit the ball

this bitch gets SIX parents at hsi baseball games and my brother gets my mom and me not paying attention because soccer is boring as sbit sorry soccer lovers who also follow penny dimeshee on timblr pkay im rabong RAMBING

me when im in falsettoland

mendel is so bad at his job

this bitch sucks ass.

disgrace to the name of caroline fr caroline abbott would NEVER do such a thing

reagan and pagan as a rhyme ks genius

STOP SLEEPING WORH YOUR BOSS?!??

trina. thag is NOT how you prnounce it

sorry what.

just qhitnyour FFUCKIGN job. you cant do it anyway 😊☺️☺️

god i love ❤️ emojis

wbat a shock marvins back with whizzer

trina be normal please 🙏 i love you

trina calm your shit

yeah why CANT u let goe

as spon as they said that i know everytknhg not gonna be alright

i watched like half of a short clip of this from tje tonies and then went to bed becaus eit was like ten pm and i sleep early because i am a loser if any lf you compare me to bakugo my hero academia i will actually cry anyway the clip was good they were #exercising wby dod i go pn thos tangent

charlotte!!!!!!!!

me when i stick a lightbulb up my ass

okay shes being self important

aww

was that the first eff bomb

what aee they laying

whizzer my man marvin has matured stip raggingi kn him!!!!!!!!!’

god

i cant see anything out this plane window its like 10 pm. past my bedtime

OOH i lvoe me a good musical motif

anyone here watchind minions the rise of gru and know what the FUUCK goes on in it my brothers watcing jt and im so confused

THAGS NOT. WOAAAAAAH

HE DID MATURE!!!!!!!!!!!! “i want it all” “all i want is you” CHARACTER DEVEIPMENT GO OFFFFFF!! i want to write an essay about this man

they gave us quinoa chocolace crunches on the plane

theyre in the coty? damn i would jot think that. they feel like sone sort of pseudo-idyllic suburban lifestyle bitches

REPEATED LYRICS. AHHHHHHHH

Damn this shit is long

this sonf is incorrect i do not hate my parents

thag wasnt funny

jadon. honey. you are so lucky your parendes dotn involve you in bar mitzvah prep. do you want to pick out tablecloth swatches

jaosn i feel like you’re misunderstanding the purpace of the bar mitzvab

what kinda a name ks apple bum

SAUL

better call sa- he WHAT???? HWTA????? HIH????? WH?????? REELING

HE HAS PAITBJNGD OF WHAT NOW???????????????????????

matbe i should have done this while lucid

gonna take a wuick pause sk i can play shitty united app games

okay i got a high score of 0. om back

HE DOESNT yeah i thoight that

what the fuck was that mendel is thag ilatian. we are JEWISH. why did you top it off with dayeinu.

i did bate my paewnts at 12

jason dont you want to be counted in a minyan….

it is not in the torah

god did not say thag

sigh

jason do the fuckingn bar mitzvah.

HELP

even ykkur wife knows you cand do your hob correctly mendel…

one hour left onthe flogh ti can do this

can mtbrother turn his screen birghtness fown

sorry marvinim sore your love os wuite sweet but im gonan catch about four min of sbuteye

“try to stay both kind and young” okah thats powerful

okay marvin. good love ballad.

OH NO.

OH NOOOOOOOOOOO

“something so bad that words have lost their meaning”

whizzer soumds so tired

MARVIN. god i love him

everything is not gonna be alright

oh and now trjnas gonna make me sob

YEAH. 🤧😿

i have things to say about the repetition of everything will be alright and they will be said. eventually

“hahaha… not funny… okay”

gonna bawl my eyes out

“gefiltee fish” “gefilte fish?”

i need to watch this on stage

god he’s just a KID!!!

im not crying you’re crying

the fucking. camaderie.

i am crying on the plane and im trying not to be weird about it

JASON.

heart breaking

i am getting tje implications here bit the thing is i dont like the implications

ive heard this song on character playlists o think

points i SAW THAG LYRIC IN A COMPARISON TO WOE IS ME!!!

i just know jason bar mitzvahs gonna kill me

he brought tje prayer shawl!!

yeah this si. augh. making the best out of a horrible situation <333

would this ever work logistically? no. where is the rabbi? where is the torsh? but emotionally? i am crying my eyes out as i drscend over salt lake city utsh and im not even ahsmwed

MARVIN. GOD. im a marvin fan now not ashamed

they are NOT doing this bar mitzvah right

thats not an actual parshah. or actual trope. i need to stop pointing out inconsisternces

🤧🤧🤧 MARVIIIIIIIN.

ID LIKERO BELIEVE THAT ID DO OT AGAIN AND AGAIN AGAIN:(

waiteajtwait dont they say that thing in this has better come to a stop. OHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!

like wine

WERE JUST GONNA SKIP THAT STAGE.

there ar no word sor emojis that can express th e utter fucking heartbreak im going through rn

OH GOD ITS OVER.

PLEASE. PLEASE. PYU CANT DO THIS TO ME.

A REPRISE??? AS A FUCKING FINALE????

whoo boy.

—

hi its airport olive. thanks for getting this far! if you read this all you’re now legally obligated to marry me!

[5lu7]

A game of: SMASH OR PASS, regarding my alters, in chronological order of their first appearance (that I remember)

(excluding littles… OBVIOUSLY)

1: ON THE BED, IN THE CAR, ON THE STAIRS, IN PUBLIC, IN PRIVATE, ON VIDEO, TOPPING, BOTTOMING, DOMMING, SUBBING, WHILE EATING, WHILE STARVING, WHILE DRUNK, WHILE SOBER, UNDER THE STARS, OVER THE TABLE, ETC ETC HE’S SO FUCKING HOTTTTTT

(though he’s absolutely the worst most toxic attachment in this list. He was an adult and I was like 13 when he took over my body forcefully, almost committed murder with it, and then raised me to be a soulless, unloveable bastard. He also violated me sexually at least once. I need him so bad though I need him so bad)

2: No. Pass. I was literally him under five years ago, I hate myself too much to fuck a dude who is essentially a different me, but is way more judgemental than me, way less chill than me, and even less morally sound. At least he was more ambitious and hopeful though!

3: Neither, she’s too ethereal and pure… I’d just stare at her in awe for three hours straight and then work up the courage to snuggle with her and weep while she pets my hair

4: Maybe? Idk my parents would definitely approve of him

5: Imagine doing the nasty with a robot xenomorph thing… (that means pass. I’m not like some of you absolute weirdos)

6: SMASHHHHHHH YES YES YES!!!!! (He’s the same dude as #1 at least 30% of the time due to merging, and when he’s not, he’s still really similar and he currently has the same face claim as #1 rn (Fugue Harvey Dent from Gotham Knights, episode 10 “Poison Pill”… **moans and arches back**), so SMASH. But I’d slap his face and spank him a LOT more and a LOT harder than #1 because he’s a lying piece of SHIT which annoys the hell out of me because I’m tryna figure out the truth of what caused all of this and I do NOT appreciate people who get between me and my goals, which is unfair because #1 is actually WAY worse and WAY more toxic)

7. SMASH!!! He’s spooky and kooky and I liked him a lot in the very short time we had together! Also his face claim was Christian Bale’s Gorr, so… (twirls hair and bites lip)

8: PASS PASS PASS she’s lovely I’m sure but that’s Jesus’s MOTHER I need to take a shower in holy water just thinking abt it…

9: Idk depends on which iteration of Barbie she is. If she looks like Margot Robbie then 100% SMASH

10: Pass… They weren’t unsexy per sé but they had 0% sexy energy and 100% emergency situation energy. Like a person sitting next to you under a desk in an active shooter situation telling you to shut tf up

11. PASS. She’s absolutely batshit insane and a cunt… Though I’d prolly hit her up if I was self-loathing and felt like I wanted to be genuinely abused and violated (/nonsexual, /nonhyperbolic)

BONUS!!!! THEORIZED ALTERS:

Theorized alter 1: wow PAAAAAAASSSSSS. I hope I never hear from him again. He makes me feel like absolute SHIT whenever he’s around and he NEVER shuts up!

Theorized alter 2: Hell no PASS I was him like less than nine months ago and he’s pathetic and erratic and insane. Like peak BPD behaviour but not in a tumblr sexy way. Just in a desperate train wreck way. Everyone was right abt him being cringe. Though I do feel bad for him because his behavior was a result of being in so much pain that he was literally being driven insane by it and had to go to the emergency room multiple times for actual physical health issues that literally manifested from the emotional pain itself. He felt like his organs were rotting and/or being lit on fire for like at least nine hours a day, and would do ANYTHING to try and avoid it, even if it meant being horrible and doing horrible shit to try and summon alter #1, who doesn’t feel emotional pain. He didn’t deserve allat he was just tryna succeed

Theorized alter 3: SMASH!!!! I’d be absolutely honored, I could only wish to be worthy of such a gift from his holiness! I suspect he’s prolly (based off of?) the same guy as #1 & #6, though I’ve never met him personally nor do I know much about him. He’s the alter at the top of the entire system hierarchy, I think.

And that’s all the (non-little) hoes in my brain I feel like putting in the effort to remember for this post, though I think I have more.

[jaesqueso]

member: jeno

genre: enemies to lovers/suggestive

movie quote: “ew! get of me! ugh, as if!” Clueless, 1995

wordcount: 749

warnings: slight bullying, teasing, suggestive

2.5k followers celebration drabbles ❤︎

☽ ・・・・・ ☾

“Ugh, look, it’s the emo kids again.” One of your friends points out rolling her eyes as you walk down the school’s main hall.

“Pathetic.” Your other friend adds and you just chuckle at the group.

Always together, the seven misfits are not a group anyone should get along with if they want any sort of good reputation and popularity in this school. Outcasts who cause nothing but trouble are definitely not the people you want to be associated with to maintain your status, being the cheer captain and elected by your colleagues as the hottest female student for three years straight.

“Y/N.” The pink haired one calls you as they pass by your group coming from the opposite direction, but you just ignore him.

“Did he just say your name?” One of your friends asks in disgust.

“Did he? I don’t speak weirdo.” You flick your hair back making your two friends laugh.

“Y/N, wait.” The guy grabs your wrist making you turn your head his way as your friends gasp at the audacity. “Do you still need help with your project later?”

“Ew! Get off me! Ugh, as if!” You break free from his hold and keep making your way down the hall.

“I can’t believe he even dared talking to you.”

“What was he thinking?”

Your friends follow as you just laugh at their comments.

“Dude, what the hell are you doing?” The guy with the black beanie asks his friend.

“Why would she need your help? She doesn’t even acknowledge your existence.” The one with pink highlights popping off his black hair adds.

“Nothing I guess.” The pink haired one scoffs before knocking down a trash can as he continues his way through the hall followed by his friends, probably thinking about what mischievous thing to do next.

-

With a huff, Jeno pauses his video game standing up to go open the door at his house.

“Where have you been? You haven’t answered my calls, I’ve been waiting for an hour!” You roll your eyes with a pout as you pass by him, entering without even asking.

“Please come in.” He says sarcastically as he closes the door following you to his living room.

“Is this what you’ve been doing?” Raising a brow you lift his remote with two fingers as if disgusted by the object. “Your stupid games are more important than me?”

“I thought you didn’t need my help anymore.” He snatches the remote off your hands sitting back down on his couch as he resumes the game.

“What? When did I say that?” You ask with your hand on your hip.

“I don’t know, maybe when you said ‘Ew! Get off me! Ugh, as if!’.” Mocking your tone from earlier he doesn’t even spare you a glance, focused on the screen.

“Jeno,” gently dropping your bag on the floor you sit next to him on the couch, “you know I didn’t mean that. I just had to-”

“Put on an act in front of your friends right?” He scoffs. “Well, I’m getting tired of being your dirty little secret.”

“Oh c’mon,” running your hands through the pink locks you lean forward until your lips are inches away from his ear, “you love being my dirty little secret.”

“Fuck you.” He murmurs.

“But that’s not fun, why don’t you do it instead?” With a smirk you slide onto his lap blocking his view of the game.

Rolling his eyes he leans to the side in an attempt to continue playing but you block him again, and then again on the other side. Sighing, he finally gives up and presses pause once more.

“And to answer your question, yes, I still need your help in my project. But first,” taking the remote and dropping it next to you on the couch, you then grab his hands and place them on your ass that’s almost showing under your short skirt, “why don’t we do something way more interesting?”

“You’re such a spoiled brat, always get your way don’t you?” Quickly he flips positions, hovering you with his legs at each side of his waist.

“You talk like you don’t like it, but the tent on your pants tells me a different story.” Wiggling your eyebrows with a smirk you slightly lift your hips to brush your crotch on his.

“Shut up.” Leaning down he takes your mouth in a savage kiss that makes you forget all about social status and your school project.

☽ ・・・・・ ☾

taglist: @yokshi-unbeliebubble​ @nc-teen  @yutahoes​ @dimplehyunn​ @iknowyuno​ @bebskyy​ @ne0cultur3technology​ @nurenciye​ @luvjeongjaehyun​ @chenleyang @booyouwhore17​

unable to tag: @doahflix @criminalmindsz

[denjjisgf]

𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘳!𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘰𝘯𝘴

𝘤𝘸: 𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘧𝘧, 𝘴𝘧𝘸, 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧 𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘭 𝘮𝘺 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘭 ★

stoner!eren loves bongs. don’t get me wrong, our boy loves joints, blunts, spliffs, anything. but there is something simplistic about hitting his bong. eren found his piece on a short smoke shop run with armin. resting in the glass case was eren’s future family heirloom. the bong itself was hideous. it was this discount cactus bong- the flat bottom the color of sand, the chamber and neck a semi-transparent forest green. and attached to the side was this ugly, orange blob, originally supposed to be a flower, but now just an eyesore. as eren and armin walk out the door, his new toy securely wrapped in bubble wrap and rubber bands swinging from the bag in his hand, he let’s out a chuckle. “dude, i’ve got it. we’ll name it jaegerbong.”

side story about jaegerbong: stoner!eren had the worst neighbor ever. floch, the nosiest bastard on campus, had somehow managed to worm his way into eren’s smoke time, inviting himself into the room as he pleases. something about liking eren’s bong so much, he became a jaegerist. on a fateful day, eren decided enough was enough, blocking the doorway when floch came knocking, one hand on the top part of the frame, the other behind the door holding jaegerbong. “floch, get the fuck out of here.” “c’mon eren! just let me in already.” crash. eren watches with horror as the remains of jaegerbong, glass pieces drowned in bong water, wet weed stuck to the floor. “oh…my bad, i didn’t know you were holding that.” rip jaegerbong. his next bong was named in memory of this moment: don’t tell floch”, aka, dtf.

stoner!eren who has the worst guys by childish gambino as his tinder song anthem. when eren smoked, he always had music on. it’s a staple in his lifestyle.

stoner!eren met you on tinder. the second he saw your profile and he knew he had to match with you. fortunately for him, your cute face showed up two days later in his matches and he sent you a message. when you two finally meet, he opens the door to his dorm, the smell of straight gas filling your nostrils. “mmm, smells like…flowers?” you say with this cute little flirty undertone and a smug smile. he guides you through the 12x12 ft room with a hand on your back, helping you up onto the bed. while he packs a bowl, his listens to you talk about your day and your hobbies and anything that made you smile. he stands from the desk and takes a long stride to settle himself between your legs. when he pulls the bong out from behind his back holding it proudly in front of his chest, he smiles and says, “dtf?” his unoccupied hand finds itself pressed into the bed next to you, curving to meet your side. when you grab the bong from his hand, he falls into a kiss and you go to meet him.

stoner!eren who holds your feet in his lap, head leaned against the wall behind him, heavy lids set dead on you. these days, you come around more and more, but he doesn’t really mind. your presence warms the room and he can’t help but wish you’d stay longer. when you go to leave, he goes, “one more bowl before you go?” his lower lip jutted out in the most pathetic pout. but it gets you to stay every time. and so here you go again, stuck in the loop of eren, passing joints and bongs until you’re crawling into his bed with him to fall asleep in his arms.

[angeldcgs]

"i never said it was! you're deliberately misunderstanding me, like you always do...it's not an invasion of your privacy to write a song about something that happened to me. it's from my perspective, because that's the only perspective i know! what would be the point of censoring myself, when the whole goal was to get that shit off my chest? you don't get my artistic process— that's fine! no one's asking you to! but don't make it a fucking personal attack, because i assure you, i was genuinely not thinking about your feelings at all when i wrote that ep." it hadn't been created out of spite, is what they meant, but it was difficult not to inject a little venom into their words when slater had such a knack for getting them so riled up. toni was far from cool and composed— they felt everything so deeply, and then they bottled it up it, but for once they were allowing themselves to let it out. "who am i to stand in the way of a gal looking to make a quick buck? what they do when they leave is none of my business." it was strange sometimes, realizing that some girls were only attracted to them because of their supposed "fame". they'd never considered themselves famous by any stretch of the imagination, so at first they'd figured everyone that came onto them after their shows had truly connected with their music, and therefor with toni as a person, but it didn't take long to realize that their interest revolved heavily around how many instagram followers they'd amassed since the release of their ep. sure, it didn't feel great to know that it wasn't them the girls were interested in, but their notoriety, but they'd take the false companionship over loneliness any day. "the tik tok charts, maybe..." everything they were saying now was with the intention of digging into slater, as god knows they'd never given a fuck about charts or sales. really, toni had been happy for them when they'd first seen their first single pop up on their twitter feed, feeling a hint of the tenderness that'd strengthened between them over their many years of friendship. good for her. as hurt as toni was, as pissed as they'd been at slater in the height of their fallout, love wasn't something that could sour that easily. with a heavy sigh of exhaustion, they ran a hand through their shaggy mane, pushing sandy brown locks up off their forehead in the process. "look... i know you think you're, like, god's gift to music, and the greatest rockstar the world has ever seen, or whatever, but i am not operating under that same delusion. i really don't think people care about me, or my life, or my past as much as you seem to think they do. maybe they care about yours, but i'm just... some dude with a keyboard. i can assure you, journalists aren't clamoring to get the shocking exposé on my pathetic high school situationship. i write the music, i release the music, i perform the music, and my job is done. you can tell tmz whatever the fuck you want, once again, that's none of my business." their face felt hot from the overwhelming frustration, blurting out, "it doesn't! it doesn't fucking matter!" before slater could even finish their sarcastic query. this is exactly why they'd never reached out after all these years. plenty of time had passed, but everything that had happened between them was still too fresh, and toni still couldn't put aside their bitterness and resentment long enough to have one calm conversation. finally, their fiery frustration faded to pure incredulity, taken aback by how slater framed that fateful night that had ended their relationship, a mirthless chuckle pushing its way past their lips like a short bark. "wow... wow, that's— wow." all they could do for a moment was laugh, shaking their head as they tried to compose their rapidly firing thoughts into a concise statement. "you are such a sad person. it must be so lonely living in this alternate reality you've constructed in which everyone around you is fucking insane, and you're the only rational human being."

"OH, FUCK OFF, TONI . it's not dumb to desire privacy even as an artist . that in itself does not take away from the authenticity of fucking art because, surprisingly, something called fucking nuance exists . two things can exist at once and not everyone is as deeply fucking attention seeking as you ." slater was never good with anger . they knew it . were deeply aware of it in fact . the problem was that almost whatever slater felt seemed to find away to convert itself into anger . loneliness . hurt . heartbreak . getting pissed was so much easier than sitting around and crying about shit . or at least slater assumes . she's never really had much of an option . her brows raise as toni continues, and this time her scoff is biting as she smiles and nods, "wow . can't believe in such good fucking company in the 'i fucked toni gallow club' . me and a handful of rabid fucking fans . you better watch that they don't wander off after, toni ." slater's brow raises dryly . "you might just find a lock of your hair on ebay or some shit ." petty wasn't usually slater's style . she went for the throat . was usually down to stab someone in the face rather than the back . and yet after not talking to toni for all this time, slater couldn't say that was exactly what this is . everything was kind of below the belt . but how were they ever going to stop when toni is doing the same thing ? the next jab makes slater's eyes flicker with anger, a bruise to their pride that their teeth clench at . their eyes narrow . "oh, fucking bite me, toni . you know my shit fucking charts ." music was always slater's thing . it had always been slater's thing . it was their passion . basically the only fucking thing they were good at . the only thing they had ever wanted to do . and toni just stumbled into it like a baby calf and somehow landed on her feet . despite their own success, despite loving toni once, or now, or who the fuck knows — slater can't deny how infuriating that is . for someone to stumble into your dream like it's an accident and thrive . no matter how many number ones slater gets the fact will always be that toni got one first . somehow slater thinks that it will always feel like it was just to spite her . "mm . right, of course ." slater is nodding in feigned understanding, head tilting as she says, "because within our current career field people are just known for being respectful and not invasive and not using pain or fuck ups for cheap headlines . i'm totally blowing this shit out of proportion ! i should schedule an interview with tmz tomorrow, they seem fucking nice !" slater replies sarcastically, before throwing their hands up and, "but you know what, whatever . what the fuck does it matter, anyways ?" slater is beginning to feel like they care too much . worse, they're beginning to feel like they're showing it . detachment is a conscious thing, one toni has already obviously achieved . slater wasn't going to be the one left in the dust . the one left still caring . because that would be pathetic . "oh, is that so ?" slater's brow arch high . "you think everyone is out here just trying to run away with someone after the high of sex ? cause honestly toni that is not a universal impulse, even with the fucking u-haul community ."

[simpforboys]

enough for you (3)

she/her pronouns

summary: y/n and jj finally come around

warnings: smut, praise kink, breeding kink, choking, dirty talk, oral (fem) unprotected sex. fluff, swearing, etc.

a/n: last part! hopefully u guys enjoyed! (im also not used to writing smut so i hope it’s okay)

part one and two

“i love you…” jj felt the words escape his mouth before he could stop them.

-

that was a week ago. jj had been hopelessly slugging around. the pogues felt horrible for him, not knowing what to do.

it was like stepping on egg shells around him. one minute he’s drunk or stoned out of his mind, the next he’s like a ticking bomb just waiting to snap at any little thing.

jj wasn’t jj anymore. and the pogues hated it.

john b walked out to see jj passed out on the pull out couch, empty beer bottles scattered around him.

john b rolled his eyes. he walked over, lightly slapping the blond until he woke up.

“what the fuck, man?” jj asked.

“i’m tired of seeing you like this, dude. now, you’re gonna get your shit together, grow up, and talk to y/n like a big boy or are you gonna mope around all the time?”

jj rolled his eyes. “i’m not moping-“

“you’re moping,” pope said as he entered the chateau.

“are you finally giving him the talk?” sarah and kie asked as they came out of nowhere.

jj furrowed his brows.

“guys- i’m fine.”

“no you’re not. you’re acting like a six year old who lost a baby toy. just go talk to her,” kie said.

jj bit the inside of his cheek.

“fine.”

-

so here jj was, standing outside her house at nine pm. it took him all day to muster up the courage, and just when he thought it was silly of him to be there, y/n opened the door.

“what the hell are you doing, creeper?” she asked.

jj scratched the back of his neck. “i wanted to talk but… i realize that sounds kinda pathetic.”

y/n looked at him in confusion. “come on, jj.”

she opened the door so he could walk in. the poorly lit living room and kitchen illuminated the hallway until they reached her room.

sitting down awkwardly on her bed, jj stared at her.

“i’m sorry,” he whispered. y/n looked over at him.

“jj, it’s fine-“

“it’s not fine, y/n. i treated you like shit, and now i think i get how you felt. i’ve felt horrible the last month and… and i miss you, y/n. i’m in love with you, i just never realized it until you were gone.”

“jj… i’ve moved on,” she whispered.

jj felt his heart break.

jj watched as her lips curved into a smirk. “i’m kidding, come here…” she grabbed his jaw.

hungrily, jj’s hand came up to y/n’s neck as they kissed. jj was craving this moment. he needed this moment.

“asshole,” he joked. she laughed.

y/n was feeling like putty in his hands and he knew it. she practically felt like she was melting into him as he pushed her backwards on the bed.

his hands slowly pushed the fabric up as she felt him roam her body. “is this okay?” he whispered into the kiss.

“more than okay,” she whispered back as he grinned into the kiss.

“i’ve wanted to do this for so long,” she admitted as he kissed down her neck.

“i don’t want you to feel like i’m using you,” he said.

y/n rolled her eyes. “i know you’re not, j.”

jj made the effort as he kissed every part of her skin. she sighed happily, relaxing into the bed.

“let me take care of you, love,” he said, pulling down her pajama shorts. he looked up at her one more time as she gave him approval.

“touch me, please, j,” she begged.

jj smirked, taking his middle finger and running it up and down her slit. “so wet,” he cooed.

she bucked her hips up; craving more. “is your mom here?” he asked, taking off his shirt.

“no. she’s probably out getting cracked out,” y/n replied, feeling her clit throb.

“jj-“

“shhh, don’t rush me, love,” he teased, gently rubbing her clit.

“fuck,” she quietly moaned.

he flicked her bud as she rolled her hips. he grabbed his arm, holding her down as he began to lap at her pussy.

“taste so sweet, love,” he told her.

y/n whimpered as jj took his finger and entered her.

“such pretty sounds coming from your mouth. be louder,” he said, quickening his fingers pace as his tongue swirled around her clit.

“jj- fuck.”

he hummed against her, sucking on her bud.

“i’m so close,” she moaned.

“close? baby, i just started,” he smirked. y/n was a whimpering mess under him, and he took pride knowing only he was making her feel this way.

“j-“

“cum, y/n.”

he felt her clench around him, her back arching as her eyes snapped shut. “such a pretty girl,” he cooed, licking his fingers.

y/n cupped his jaw, kissing him tenderly. “i love you, j.”

“i love you too, baby.”

“now please fuck me,” she said.

jj grinned, pulling his shorts off followed by his boxers. his tip was oozing pre cum and it was bright pink.

“ready?” he asked, taking her hand in his; interlacing their fingers.

y/n nodded, kissing him again as he slowly slid into her. she moaned softly as his head fell into her neck.

“fuck,” he groaned.

y/n felt her face grow warm. “faster,” she pleaded.

so wrapped up in the moment, jj took his hand and placed it on her neck. she gasped as he immediately took it off.

“choke me, jj,” she whispered. he smirked, pounding into her faster. his hand gripped at her neck, squeezing as she grabbed his hips.

“such a good girl. look so pretty with my cock going in and out of you,” he praised.

“takin’ me so well,” he continued on. y/n was in pure bliss as she felt her stomach grow tight.

“i’m gonna cum, j.”

“cum for me, pretty girl.”

jj took his thumb and rubbed fast circles on her clit. letting out a loud moan, she clenched around him.

“yeah, that’s it. i’m gonna cum, y/n. i’m gonna fuck some kids into this pretty pussy.”

“please, jj,” she scratched his back, driving him further to the edge.

jj whimpered as warm spurts of cum shot out of him. he stopped his movements, sucking hickeys onto her neck.

flopping down next to y/n, he felt her lay onto his bare chest. a thin layer of sweat coated their skin as they breathed heavily.

“i love you, jj.”

“i love you too, y/n.”

jj peppered her scalp with kisses as she laughed against him. y/n heard her phone buzzing as she unlocked it.

kie: hello??!! y/n??? jj????

jb: i hope jj wore protection

pope: is jj dead yet???

sarah: can yall chill you probably just ruined the moment

y/n: we’re alive assholes

kie: FINALLY OMG

jb: how was it??? i hope you guys were practicing safe kissing ;)

sarah: you’re gross

y/n and jj laughed reading their friend’s texts.

“i’ll steal you some plan b in the morning,” he told her, putting her phone back on the nightstand.

“romantic,” she laughed, feeling his lips on her face.

-

the next morning when y/n woke up, she went to the bathroom. looking into the mirror, she noticed the letter j was bruised onto her neck.

walking into the kitchen, jj was trying to make some eggs. “you sly bastard,” she joked, motioning to her neck as she saw his almost black eggs.

jj smirked. “i uh, tried to cook for you. clearly it didn’t go as planned,” he motioned to the burnt food.

“we can pick something up on the way to john b’s,” y/n grinned, kissing her new boyfriend.

[i-need-air]

"Dude" — Bakugou Katsuki x Reader.

Summary: Your former bully, Midori, has confessed her undying love for one of the most famous guys at U.A.; you're just venting gossiping about it with Mei, not knowing Bakugou Katsuki is right around the corner, listening;

Warnings: None. Well, Bakugou Katsuki having various anger induced strokes > the normal > no warnings; light crackfic? subtle ending;

Word count: 4.5k;

[ Part 2 ];

"She confessed to him." You grinned, throwing a bunch of fries into your mouth like the absolute animal you were.

Mei on the other hand continued her work on whatever in the world her new prototype, or "baby", was. Still, you had the honor of having half of her attention, which was a compliment to say at least.

She just smiled, shaking her head, leading you to continue, not knowing a blond was quite literally behind the corner, just outside the door leading to the support department, frown on his face.

"She came to class giggling like an idiot saying she's got a plan." You made a face into the distance, remembering your classmate's obnoxious squeal. "Ugh, she started telling the Divas how she's gonna have The Bakugou Katsuki in the bag." An ugly snort left your body, which earned an amused chuckle from Mei.

Both of you were pretty well known to be very good friends, and as much as you hated to admit it, you were both quite the social pariahs too. She was a little bit strange or weird, as some called her, but not for a single second she cared, which was the reason you admired the girl so much in the first place. Meanwhile you've taken the role of the bitch of the whole school by far. Sadly, you were placed in the same class as your archenemy, only increasing your chances of being called said endearing term.

Middle-school was a nightmare to say at least, getting bullied for your looks, the way you spoke or dressed, anything really as long as you were the one being mocked. And who was the one doing the bullying? Midori. Stunning, graceful, baby-faced Midori. Petite yet elegant, a devil in disguise. Whoever crossed her path suffered her malice unless she had something to gain from them.

And now, sweet Midori was in the U.A.'s General Studies, coinciding with you in the majority but not all classes. It had to do with the tragedy that your quirk was so rare that the principal Nezu had to adjust a new schedule just for you. Just kidding, it was amazing. The actual tragedy was seeing her face every day.

Back to your heartbreaking backstory and origin; time made you tough, comments made you build a wall so tall and thick nobody could crumble it. Backstab after backstab made you learn that not everyone has good intentions, but in your loneliness you found Hatsume Mei. So honest and dedicated, so raw and passionate. A good person. The type of person your parents promised you'd someway cross paths with and gain such a strong friendship that nothing could tear it apart.

Becoming friends with her was easy, kinda. It took snapping back at Midori when she started her normal bullying routine on Mei, which ignored it without a care. You stepped in and the rest is history. It did feel good though, calling her a pathetic bitch before turning to the stranger with a cool gadget in her hands to compliment it. And, since she's a sucker for her babies, you had to deal with an hour of sparkly eyes and monologues about her plans and prototypes.

Funny girl, Mei. You remember thinking but the following day you passed by her usual spot to fill your curiosity, asking if she did solve the problem she was complaining about.

"He was the one she was planning to ask out?" She screamed at you, head inside a giant metal gauntlet and the reason you two started talking about said man in particular. News were extra-fresh anyway.

"Oh, yeah!" You shook your head, ashamed to exist in the same general proximity as a person like your former bully. "He's gonna be so rich and famous!" A high pitched squeal left your mouth as you tried to copy her voice. "Poor fucking guy, if only he knew."

"But people know she's a bitch!" She screamed again, repairing or adjusting something with almost all of her body inside the gauntlet. A smile, genuine and soft this time, formed on your face. The pink-haired girl wasn't one to talk bad about others or even care, but it was clear she wasn't particularly fond with Midori either, although the conversation was more for you to vent rather than gossip. Sure it was.

"Like the people from the Hero Department even care about us, the commoners." With a roll of the eyes, you followed. "If he's smart, he'll run away. If he's an asshole, he could use her too."

"What do you mean?" Pink flocks of hair suddently submerged from the gadget, eyes curious zooming on you. That probably got more than 50% of her attention and it was a new personal goal while she was at the workshop.

With shrugged shoulders, your answer came nonchalant. "He could date her and dump her like she's nothing. Would serve her right for all the shit she's talking about him." But the only response you got was a short quizzical look, followed by your exagerated sigh. "She's talking shit about him constantly, but then says he's hot and that his personality doesn't matter anyway. Money, fame, looks. She has a whole fucking life-plan! Then calls him a rabid dog!"

"Woah—" that surprised her.

"Woah indeed! Insane. It's insane. I don't know the guy but no one deserves that shit." When you got no response, you continued your speech, munching in the food with passionate hunger, words coming out almost indistinguishable. "Doubt he'd play her though. He looks like a smart guy. I've seen the Sports Festival—" you picked up your burger, giving it heart eyes. "—and I've seen the news. He's probably a good guy too, the issue is people don't see that and... Well, I understand what's it to be judged... Not many have what it takes to be a real hero but he does. Hope he finds happiness in life." Much talk for someone that doesn't know shit about the guy in particular, but even so faint, your gut instinct was trained well enough to spot malice and he lacked that. "And a therapist." And there's the little shit in you that had to drop a cheeky comment.

Mei's gaze turned downwards and even if you could see her brain do mental gymnastics to solve whatever problem she had in front of her super-eyes, she also contemplated your words with great care.

"He comes here from time to time—" she grins, smacking the grenade looking gauntlet with her weird utensil. "I noticed you two are similar." Your face twisted, eyes wide towards the girl.

Similar how? He was loud, bold with a foul mouth, definitely needed a therapist for those unresolved anger issues... But he was also bright as in whenever he went, people looked in his direction, like he shined; obviously strong, also from what you've heard smart, popular, lucky to be surrounded by kind people. Example being that very nice pink girl that had a joyous conversation with you the very first day of school and, much to your surprise, continued greeting and having sweet small talks with you every single time you saw each other. Or the blond haired guy that showed off a little bit too much and made dumb flirty comments with no bad intentions, the same blond that waved at you with enthusiasm when you'd cross paths. There was the red-head, Kirishima, that was an absolute gentleman, opening doors for you even if you had two functioning hands and smiled so bright it made your corneas burn, or also the dark haired guy, Sero, that you've seen helping literally anyone in need around the school campus with an easy going attitude and gentle grins. Bakugou Katsuki was surrounded by good people, good heroes just as amazing as him and if they liked him, he must've definitely had some good in him, right? Another point appeared in your mental presentation about the brash hero in the making was that he was way too attractive but the wise burried deep inside of you made that particular point dissappear. No need to think about that. Overall you weren't even remotely similar. Not even close. Two completely different human beings from two completely different worlds that would never collide. With that being said, there was the small chance that Mei hinted for you to get a therapist too, who knows.

"How even—"

"I mean!" She screwed something in place. "I mean in your— determination?"

"I wouldn't know that." You muttered.

"He screams I'm gonna be the best every time he's here—"

"Cute..." You vomit that endearment without thinking, but thankfully it got ignored.

"—and it always reminds me of you." A small chuckle left your mouth.

"Don't make fun of me."

"You say it too~"

"I just heal, Mei, it's not the same." Principal Nezu's speech, the speech he gave your parents months into the first year as they found themselves aware of your power made you hold your words. You had it in you. The potential. If incredible people like your teachers, like Shuzenji Chiyo or Principal Nezu twisted things around for your quirk, for how rare and powerful it is, you'd accept it.

"But you're gonna be the best healer ever, aren't you?" She taunted.

"Of course. Which reminds me—!"

"Hmm?" Her attention faded away slightly, but it wasn't a problem.

She cheered, both at you and at her finished masterpiece and proceeded to eat too, passing through the lunch hour without interruption.

"Recovery Girl is putting me on active duty at the infirmary from now on. Finally!"

Innocent pale purple eyes stared into deep crimson ones, furrowed brows covering them.

—

Bakugou Katsuki wasn't one to enjoy being annoyed or surprised and this extra managed to make him feel both things in a short notice.

Everyone around him froze in fear or wonder, awaiting his response without breathing or moving an inch. Meanwhile Whoever-she-was held a pink envelope in front of him, a perfume too sweet coming from it making him want to literally gag in the spot.

Another thing the boy did not appreciate was to have someone bullshit him. His senses were telling him to back off, alarms ringing in his head and those purple eyes held hidden intentions; he wasn't having any of it.

"Fuck off." He snapped, yet his stance was casual as he refused to move out of her way since she was the one that had the audacity to run into him.

Some gasps, even coming from his so-called idiotic friends, could be heard and an indignant Bakubro behind him as he got slapped in the shoulder but he did not care. Not until her lips started to tremble as she retreated her confession letter towards her chest dramatically. His eyebrow started to twitch at the sight.

It was a spectacle for anyone surrounding him.

"What's going on?" Shushes and whispers.

"Bakugou Katsuki just got a confession!" Gossip.

"What!? Who?!" Confusion.

"You said Bakugou Katsuki?!" Shock.

"Oh, she's pretty!" Awe.

"He told her to Fuck off! What an asshole!" Outrage.

"Is that Midori?" Surprise.

"The nerve—" Anger.

"Midori from—" Disbelief.

"Oh, my God, she's really doing it~!" Giggles.

He frowned deeper. If people were to talk about him, they should be talking about all the crap he's been doing and all the lives he saved, not because of a fake bimbo decided to cross his path.

Bakugou wasn't stupid either. With time he knew these things would eventually come in his direction, stuff he'd have to deal with in the future as fame would take over, but not now. He did not have time to entertain this show anyway.

There was only one destination in his mind and she was keeping him in the middle of the whole school cafeteria with prying eyes on them both.

"Bakugou, do something, she's about to cry!" Dunce Face harshly whispered, but turned towards the white haired girl that looked devastated in front of them. "Ignore him! Ask me out, I would never make you cry!"

He rolled his eyes so back in his head it almost hurt. With a need to hurl the food he just ate, he made a step to leave the scene but small hands with claw-like fingernails gripped his arm and he looked at her in utter disgust.

"No, I would never! He—" she sniffled but had no tears in her eyes. He gave her a scowl, trying to take his arm out of her grip but she scratched him in place with her tiny rat hands. "You're the one I love! I—" her bangs covered her face as she continued her show.

"Bakugou! Dude! Do something!" Shitty Hair said, his dumb and blind trust in people buying the act. A vein almost popped on Bakugou's forehead.

"I fucking said—" he pulled his arm so hard she fell on her knees by his side. "Fuck. Off."

Another set of gasps filled the room.

"Bakugou!"

One thing he did not want, even if he could tell it was a foul theater, was to hurt somebody. His asshole act ended at that but his pride stopped him from saying anything.

Glancing to see if she's hurt, Pink Idiot was by her side, helping her up and asking way too many fucking questions.

"No, I'm fine..." she said with such a meek voice he scoffed, also hearing all the shit everyone around him was talking.

"He's such a brute."

"What a mean guy—"

"She's crying!"

"Fucking asshole."

He gritted his teeth.

After the disaster with the League of Villains in the first year, people started to respect him for who he was yet one single, minuscule shit like this and they were all at his jugular.

"I took Bakugou-san by surprise." She excused his behavior to Ashido, which then suggested they should eat lunch together sometimes to make up for the trouble after apologizing in his behalf.

"Yeah, we'd love to have you around! Isn't that right, Bakugou?" The apologetic and almost pleading voice of his blond friend, if he ever was going to call him that anymore, just made him bare his teeth. If they wanted to get played like fools it was their problem, not his.

And that's how he found himself eavesdropping on the weirdo and an extra.

And with a single "Whatever." he left the cafeteria, going to check if his gauntlets were ready, annoyance oozing off him, making the sea of people part from his path. Except he didn't notice you rushing away a little bit in front of him, holding a bag of food, all amused.

Why the fuck was everyone talking about him? Can't they fucking keep his pretty name outta their mouths? With time and without finding a reason why the hell he was glued in place, he listened attentively, his suspicions confirmed and his ego hurt, but whoever was talking about him calmed his nerves a lot. He just needed to put a face to that voice. Just to see who's gossiping about him, nothing else.

—

With a full belly and a whole afternoon to study by Recovery Girl's side, you marched towards the infirmary after you bid your farewell to Mei. There was still time to walk around, grab something sweet for later and save any poor soul that Midori decided to sink her teeth in. It was common at this point, you getting in between her and her victims and taking the hit, yet somehow also being called a bitch by everyone. That's how high-school worked. She did have friends and they spread any word she spat. Vultures.

It was fine though. Hero [Y/N] is there to save the day no matter what. You scoffed at your own stupidity, turning the corner just to step on a leg that was sprawled on the floor.

He clicked his tongue, getting up with no worry in the world, but made no action to leave, settling for observing and analyzing you way too intensely.

"Watch where the fuck you're going, idiot." The man of the hour, the guy you've defended in front of your friend just screamed at you as he dusted off the imprint of your shoe left on his pants. Meanwhile you just paled in place before regaining your composture.

"Why are you sitting on the floor?" You said, tilting your head with a frown, already knowing you will not apologize.

Unimpressed by what was going on, even if you truly couldn't point out what really was going on, you made an attempt to move past him towards the vending machines not far behind, but he caught your arm in a firm grip.

You blinked stupidly at the skin contact.

"Heard you were talkin' shit."

Your stomach dropped. Legs almost gave up too if it weren't for his iron grip holding you still. In the silence and at the satisfaction of the reaction you let out, he smirked and raised his chin, only Mei's singing voice coming from her workshop could be heard. Realization hit you. Hit you? Bitchslapped you in the face and left a mark for sure, because your cheeks started feeling heated, tingly.

He dragged you away, maybe to have the privacy to murder you in peace, but your common sense kicked in and you came back from the land of the mortified.

Much like he did before, action you saw with your two own eyes and repeated, you pulled out of his strong grip and stared as he turned towards you, mouth already opened to probably eat you alive.

"I wasn't talking shit about you, dude." You quickly spoke first.

"You don't fucking know me." He growled back, taking a step towards you but like hell you'd back down.

"Don't need to be besties to say what I said." Without understanding why he was so agitated, the only thing left to do after this beautiful turn of events was to defend the honor remaining in you, so you raised your chin to be at par with him. The action clearly took him by surprise, making him glare more, if even possible.

"I don't fucking appreciate when extras talk about me behind my back!"

"I don't give a shit what you appreciate, dude." Your laugh was the complete opposite of his menacing loud voice, like ying and yang.

"Bakugou, the name's fucking Bakugou, you extra!" Bakugou recovered quickly at your snappy self, getting more bothered as you talked.

"Okay, dude." His hands fisted, shaking in place as he stared you down but did not continue.

Silence; the hallway was now filled with silence as he boiled in his own anger and as you raised your brows in confusion. Now what? Was it time to leave? You've never met anyone like him, this was peculiar—

"NOW IT'S WHEN YOU FUCKING TELL ME YOUR SHITTY NAME, YOU FUCKING DUMBASS!"

A second passes; two; at the third you're wheezing your lungs out, laughing at the ridiculousness of the scenario.

"What the fuck are you LAUGHING AT?!" His voice got louder just to top your howling. You did not expect that.

Through a sigh, regaining your breath, you say "It's [L/N] [Y/N].", seeing him retreat in his form and cross his arms. He was still seizing you up.

"If you have shit to say to me, say it to my fucking face, understood?"

"I—... Say what now?"

"I—." He copied in a mock, getting an incredulous look from you. "You stupid or what?" Your upper lip lifted, ready to cuss him to infinity and beyond but he continued. "Like about that bitch from before and shit—" even if he still was loud, he placed his hands in his pockets and looked more interested in the way the tiles on the wall were placed instead of your person. "An' like you told the weirdo—"

No time to be shocked at the implied; his last word enraged you, making your body shake with rage. "Don't fucking dare to call her a weirdo ever again."

Like a challenge, he snapped his face back at you, ready to take it.

"Or what?"

"Listen here, fucker—" now that was a nice surprised face he was pulling. "Just because I gave you a pat on the back in there doesn't mean you can disrespect people just because you think you're the shit. You're not. Now get out of my fucking way." With a final push to his shoulder, your mind was focused on going to the infirmary, steam almost coming out of your nostrils.

"Hey, extra!"

Ignore him, ignore him, ignore him. went through your mind, marching away without a glance back. Not until—

"[L/N]! You're a healer, hah?" That's interesting. He stood where you left him, watching.

"What's it to you?"

Someone sane would've left at your tone but this guy walked towards you then showed you his arms, recently scratched. Images came back to you about the cafeteria incident but did not underst—... did he want to get healed?

You scoffed.

"They're scratches, dude."

"They annoy me. Now heal." All the energy you had left in your body was channeled towards the slow blink you threw at him, at which he scoffed. But they did look nasty— and Midori did them. It was a curse by itself to look down at your own arms and remember that face, so the guardian angel in you decided to take control and be the better person.

Gentle fingers barely tapped his muscular arm. Smile crept up on your lips, feeling absolutely delighted at his obvious stiffness at the skin contact and the clear interest in his eyes, specially when the scratches started disappearing into nothing, leaving smooth silk skin under.

"Hey— Wha— Where the fuck do you think you're going?!" raspy voice got lost in the distance and one thought in your head.

"Want a lollipop for being a good patient too?" You mock and his face explodes in all shapes of red. It would've been great to mock him more, enthralled by his reactions, but with that you turned and left, ignoring the tingling under your fingers that should not be there and your stomping heart.

Did he wait all the lunchbreak to talk to you?

—

A long queue was ahead of you, earning the longest sigh out of your lungs. Life was pain sometimes. Mei couldn't hang out, food was too far away, the delicious croissants Lunch Rush made ran out as far as you could see. Pain. Just pure pain.

And disappointment. When you walked away with your food in a bag, maybe to sit under a tree and enjoy some peace and quiet, you saw her. Midori sitting at a table you did not expect. At the same table where Ashido Mina, Denki Kaminari, Kirishima Eijirou and Hanta Sero sat at. Good people. Honest, good people about to get bitten by a snake. If she was there, then Bakugou decided—

"You. Sit."

Thinking about the boy somehow summoned him behind you. Food in hand and bored expression on his face, he passed you not without giving you a stink eye. Indeed, disappointment.

You shrugged, trying not to pay much attention to the pang in your heart as you moved forward, but a voice— his voice stopped you in your tracks.

"You. Get the fuck out of my face." His growl made everyone around him turn to watch, you being one of them. There was no excuse to what came next, no way to run away past it and dissappear. He nodded his head at you out of all people and pointed at the seat still occupied by Midori; her purple eyes big, shocked, running between your frame and the blond's.

Do you know what it felt to be put in the spotlight without warning? Well, congratulations because that was your life now.

"Ba—Bakugou-san?" Her voice, now highed up and meek followed, then a small scream as Bakugou slammed his food on the table. His friends sat there, wide-eyed, but made no attempt to interrupt.

"Did I fucking stutter, bitch? Or want me to turn into a rabid dog for fucking real?"

You choked on your own spit, bag of goodies about to drop on the floor once you saw her horrified face. She knew that he knew. And when her pale eyes, filled with sudden malice, act dropped, turned to you it's when you realized she figured out where he found out from.

Not like you cared, really, but the little shit that always had to poke out every time she was in the same room as you decided to finally show up, making you wave and send her a wink.

"I said MOVE!" now— that growl, raspy and filled with anger startled her. The orange juice in her hands spilled all over her uniform and woke her up from whatever delusion she was in. With zero time to reconsider, every belonging of hers was picked up with trembling hands and she ran away to her group of cockroaches.

A smile was already settled on your face; your brain was storing that whole interaction deep within, ready to bring it back up whenever you needed a good laugh.

Life was pain and disappointment, you say? No. Life was great. Or more importantly, Bakugou was. Not like he needed to know. But he was a decent guy as he proved—

"THE FUCK YOU STANDING THERE LIKE A DUMBASS?! I SAID SIT!" —to be a pain in the fucking ass and the bane of your existence.

You gave him a face then turned to walk away, even rushing more when you heard his chair screeching on the floor. The exit was so close, so near, freedom never felt this great, the sunlight kissing your skin giving you a new hope to live. But not for long because he grabbed your hand and started dragging you towards his table.

Your hand was in his hand and he was dragging you—

Your hand— his big, warm, a little bit sweaty hand—

How could you ruin such a beautiful moment? Eyes on you two, shocked, silence, his adorable red ears being the only thing you could see as he was completely in front of you, still dragging you towards his friends...

"Did you wait all lunchbreak yesterday to talk to me?" You collided into him as you finished the sentence, his way taller form stiffened so much you felt you single-handedly broke Bakugou Katsuki for good.

But when he turned... Oh, when he turned. Biggest deer-caught-in-the-headlights eyes you've ever seen on anyone, cheeks painted so red you almost melted in the spot, lips trembling as his head worked a thousand miles per second just to find a retort. And you prepared yourself for—

"NO, I FUCKING DIDN'T! WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT, YOU FUCKING EXTRA? I'D NEVER WAIT FOR SOMEONE LIKE YO— ARE YOU EVEN LISTENING TO ME!" Mina's waving hand caught your attention and smiled at her. Your hand was still in his, gripped harshly as he still hasn't noticed it's still there.

"Hey! [L/N], long time no see!" She cheered, ignoring the living shit out of her screaming friend, like she's used to it.

"FUCKING LOOK AT ME WHEN I TALK TO YOU—"

"Hey, chill, dude. Now let go of my hand, I wanna talk to Ashido." You smiled sweetly, making extra effort to wave your linked hands arond until he finally noticed. He zapped his hand away so fast, like he's been bitten by a wild animal. Maybe even a rabid dog, if you will.

You couldn't ignore your own flustered state as you walked past him, giving him a one up, adding the absolute scandalized face he had into the back of your mind for safekeeping.

"Come sit with us!" The pinkette offered.

"Oh, hey, I know you! You're by Hatsume's workshop all the time!" Kirishima intervened with a surprised face that broke into a grin. "Nice to officially meet—"

"I fucking said." he appeared, sitting in front of you. "My name's Bakugou."

"Ok, dude, but I'm talking to someon—"

"BAKUGOU KATSUKI!" Could be heard from the stratosphere.

Note: I just realized Midori means Green [ fucking duh ] but I'm not gonna change the name or her description. I think her parents fucking up her name was the start of many accidents leading into the Midori we all know and hate. Also, I know you understand. We all know a Midori in our lives. Much love.

Note 2: I keep editing it but tumblr dot com slash Install App on Phone fucks my editing and switches paragraphs all around! If you find any PLEASE tell me, I'd really appreciate it!!!

[south-sea]

ᕕ(ᐛ )ᕗ miscellaneous roscoe trivia time!

his race naturally leans more toward a colder body temperature, but ros here got the short end of the stick and is abnormally cold, even in comparison. so all that wispy nonsense about him is literally just because the air he exhales is either a) tinged with some vape/weed/etc-adjacent smoke or b) Goddamn Cold. it gets significantly worse when under stress or when the meds he's on to help balance his temperature and keep him from Literally Freezing Over are starting to wear off.

the aforementioned weed-adjacent thing is just a species-specific smokable prescription. its primary use is to help keep him warm/counteract the physical meds' side-effects (sleepiness, nausea, etc), so calling it "weed-adjacent" is just a convenient shorthand. it's almost more like a slow-acting inhaler, when you put it that way.

but too bad for him the whole 'abnormally cold' thing doesn't give him neat superpowers or anything. it just makes him miserable and classified as disabled. he's a mess but at least he has friends now who don't make fun of him for nearly dying that one time from unrelated complications.

he's a city boy who won a turf war after his guardian/older brother died, and all he got was this run-down little shack in an abandoned park. he took that whole shack with him when he was eventually allowed to legally move. he's bad with change, so this was a given, however much more absurdly complicated it made that already-near-impossible move. that world was strict and terrible in every way.

due to the place he used to live, he's largely unaccustomed to the sun. natural light still hurts his eyes, but he loves nothing more than napping on his roof in the sunlight now, if not anywhere else outside in the sun, so he's acclimating to it quickly. he definitely still looks a bit miserable and sickly on his off days, but the tan he's developing as a result is helping.

when he's not passed out somewhere/too cold to function, he's just some dude. compared to the rest of my roster, i joke he's one of the most mundane characters i have. like he's just some guy who smokes, has a persistent cough to end all his laughs, cracks terrible puns and watches movies with popcorn, and likes to playfully hassle people over voice chat in multiplayer games. jokingly antagonizing a premade party is also exactly how he ended up meeting his current friend group.

that memphis-looking form is definitely something he does as a joke/self-soothe. 10/10, also got him through nearly dying that one time. it's comforting in that it's literally more fluff than anything else, like those cats who turn into rats when you get them wet. very fitting, given his overall 'pathetic shivering wet cat' vibes 5/7 days a week

when your parody turns into a completely unironic character of their own

[cinnaminsvga]

Dumbo | Jungkook (M)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Try to have fun, his ass.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I-I…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Your plan?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No,” Jungkook says.

You raise your brow. “Yes?” you try.

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

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

"Money," Jungkook repeats.

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

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

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

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

"What?" You tilt your head, confused.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

There is no other option. Jungkook wants money.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

x x x x x

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“OOOOOOOH? JUNGKOOK GOT FUCKED AT THE CLUB!”

“GET IT BOY!”

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

“DAMN DUDE? DAMN? DAMN?”

“AW, YOU FUCKED SOMEONE WITHOUT ME?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Y/N L/N.

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

x x x x x

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey, are you wearing my thot shorts?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“BBCC? I’m almost too afraid to ask.”

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

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

x x x x x

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

from: jjk ….yeah, fine. whatever.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ah.”

“Ah.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“SHIT! Y/N!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

x x x x x

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

from: jjk yeah. don’t worry about it.

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

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

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

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

from: jjk no worries. i’ll be there.

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

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

x x x x x

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Deal. Let’s get out of here?”

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

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

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

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

[ticketstomydaydreams]

5:3666

(All We Have: Part Two)

Part One

Colson x Female Reader

Summary: You and Colson fall into a night time studio routine when he starts keeping you company through your insomnia and you decide to work though some past demons

Word count: 3,200 (ish, I lost count editing)

Feels: Fluff with a dash of past trauma

Warnings: Drug & alcohol consumption, domestic violence, cursing, Colson being so sweet it almost makes your teeth hurt

Companion playlist:

Machine Gun Kelly - 5:3666

Warren Zevon - I'll Sleep When I'm Dead

The Vamps - All Night

Halsey - You Should Be Sad

A/N: If you've been affected by anything in this story, please know you're not alone. My inbox is always open and I'm all ears 🖤

______

During the first couple of weeks of moving in, you’d been partying A LOT. The guys wanted to show you just how mad it got, breaking you into their chaotic household, blending the days together. Everyone was hyper and the house was buzzing with energy. You'd been so exhausted from all of it that you'd been all but passing out each night, but you couldn’t lie, it was great fun.

You’d tried to pass on a few nights but Colson would never hear of it, often forcing you out of your room to get involved as the house was filled with people, jam sessions taking place in between drinking games. It was a far cry from your usual homelife, your last housemate mainly kept to themselves so your place was normally pretty chilled. Colson had used your place as a quiet escape over the years, but it seemed you wouldn’t have the same set up extended to you here with this lot.

With the pandemic unfolding, the house had started getting quieter, less people in and out every night and everyone was settling into a lazier way of life. The gang were mooching around the house throughout the day and while the house was still lively at night, it wasn’t quite the party central you’d almost started getting used to. Your normal working routine went out the window as everyone had started working from home mainly and without your daily routine, followed by nights out partying, your insomnia was back with full force.

______

You were lying in your bed, trying to force sleep on yourself but after trying to nod off for a couple of hours, you accepted defeat and got back up. Throwing some sweats on and one of Colson’s huge hoodies (you’d been slowly sneaking them out of his closet, finding that the masses of material drowning your small frame were super comforting), you headed down to the kitchen, turned the stove on and filled the kettle up. You were scrolling through your phone when you heard footsteps on the tiled floor. Colson strolled into the kitchen looking disheveled in a white tank top and boxer shorts, hair ruffled and looking sleepy

“Dude, it’s 3am how come you’re up?”

“Couldn’t sleep, living that oh so fun insomnia life again” you sighed “Did I wake you?”

“Nah, I was already awake. Couldn’t sleep either and heard someone moving about so thought I’d come down” He replied, climbing onto one of the breakfast stools

“Yeah, I think it’s not having much of a routine. Hate lying in bed staring at the ceiling so just got up. You want a cup?” you offered, pointing to the chamomile tea you were brewing

“Sure, thanks” he says, taking the steaming mug from you

You sit down at the breakfast bar with him and start chatting, scrolling through instagram as you do. After about an hour, as you’re talking about an article you’re reading, you notice Colson doesn’t respond and you look to your right and see he’s fallen asleep, leaning on his hand, his mouth slightly ajar.

“Hey, sleeping beauty” you whisper, rubbing his back with your hand “Go to bed”

He slightly jolts at your touch, opening his eyes “Nah man, I’m keeping you company”

“Some company” you laugh softly “pretty sure you just slept through all my rambling there”

He leans against your shoulder, closing his eyes again “Hey, at least you’re not sitting here alone. That’s something right?”

“That’s true” you smile, leaning your head against his “You’re very appreciated, do you know that”

You gently push him upright and stand up “Come on, let’s go to bed. I’m pretty tired myself, so you’ve definitely helped”

He’s laid his head down on his arm on the counter, his breathing getting heavy immediately so you pull his other hand making him stand up. He stands up and puts his arm around your shoulder as you walk towards the stairs, your legs feeling heavy as you climb each step, carrying some of Colson’s weight as he sleepily walks with you

Once you’re standing outside your bedroom doors, he pulls you in for a hug

“Night kid, don’t be wandering around bored if you can’t sleep yeah? Just come get me. Nothing worse than sitting up alone at night…”

“Will do. Thanks Col” You squeeze him a bit tighter as he kisses the top of your head

“Night” you smile, as he let’s you go and turns and heads into his room, waving his hand up behind him

Undressing and crawling into bed, your eyes feel heavy as your head hits the pillow. Colson was right, insomnia was a much less lonely experience with a friend.

______

Of course, as is always the way after your sleepless nights, you sleep in super late the following day meaning the cycle continues and you find yourself wide awake as the witching hour approaches. Feeling restless in your bedroom, you get up, and decide to head downstairs and out into the studio because you figure you might as well put this time to good use. You settle into a chair with your acoustic guitar and started playing, stopping and starting as you figure out a melody, working your latest lyrics in with it

“I wanna start this out and say, I gotta get it off my chest. Got no anger, got no malice…”

“I thought I told you to come get me if you couldn’t sleep”

You almost drop your guitar as you hear Colson’s voice behind you, “Jesus, how are you such an enormous human but you still manage to creep up on me all the time?”

“Just a stealthy motherfucker I guess” He laughs, flopping into the chair next to you

“Whatcha working on? That sounded sweet, keep playing…”

Colson knows you sometimes get a bit self-conscious with people watching you sing, so he lights his joint, rests his head on his hand and closes his eyes. You smile as you see what he's doing, thankful he always understands what you're like.

You turn back to your notepad, reading over your lyric outline quickly before repositioning the guitar in your lap and resetting the metronome

___

‘I wanna start this out and say, I gotta get it off my chest

Got no anger, got no malice, Just a little bit of regret

No, nobody else will tell you, so there's some things I gotta say

Gonna jot it down and then get it out and then I'll be on my way

No, you're not half the man you think that you are

And you can't fill the hole inside of you with money, drugs, and cars

I'm so glad I never ever had a baby with you

'Cause you can't love nothing unless there's something in it for you

Oh, I feel so sorry, I feel so sad

I tried to help you, it just made you mad

And I had no warning about who you are

I'm just glad I made it out without breaking down

And then ran so fuckin' far, that you would never ever touch me again

Won't see your alligator tears

'Cause, no, I've had enough of them’

___

“Man, that was beautiful Y/N. I got some chills right there…You just wrote that?”

“Nah, it’s something I dug up from ‘back then’. Been going through some old lyrics and samples while we’ve got all this time on our hands. It’s kinda cathartic to go over some of that stuff now there’s a bit more distance you know”

______

A couple of years ago, you’d been stuck in a really toxic relationship with your ex, Stevie. Your time with him had been a tornado of arguments, drugs and the constant heartache of him cheating on you. Every time you’d get close to having the strength to leave, you’d always cave in and the mess would continue with you losing a bit of yourself each time you stayed. You’d become pretty used to his violent outbursts, he had always been controlling and short tempered, often pushing you and throwing stuff around your apartment. Despite his own frequent infidelity, he flew into a jealous rage with you constantly.

He’d always hated Colson, despite him being one of your best friends, and while he’d play nice to his face you’d always get it in the neck once you were alone about how you and Colson were ‘too close’ and he ‘didn’t trust him’. Before that final night you’d spent with him, things had been pretty good with the two of you for a few weeks, there hadn’t been much drama and so you hadn’t thought too much of inviting him out with you and the gang for a night out clubbing. Your good run had clearly come to an end, when you felt his hand grab your arm tightly and drag you off the dancefloor where you’d been dancing with Colson. You’d been bundled into an uber so quickly, you hadn’t even managed to get your handbag from inside. You saw Colson running out of the club, followed by Rook and Slim who was holding your bag, as the cab pulled away.

Once you were back at the apartment, he flew into a rage. You’d never seen him this bad before, his eyes were dark and when you tried to argue back, calling his jealousy ‘pathetic’ he snapped. He’d grabbed you by the throat and slammed you against the wall, “Don’t you ever disrespect me like that again” he’d spat in your face, before striking you so hard with his fist that the skin across your cheek split open. It was as if his actions had knocked him back to reality, he’d let go of you and you ran to your bedroom, locked the door behind you and started packing a bag. He hammered on the door, begging you to open it and you could hear that he was crying. You looked around for your phone before you remembered you’d left it at the club. Desperate to get away, you opened your laptop and brought up instagram, managing to send Colson a message asking him to send you an uber to his house straight away. You’d thrown your laptop and a few more bits in your bag, the battery dying before you had a chance to wait for a reply, before pulling the bedroom door open and barging past Stevie. He’d tried to grab you, but you’d finally had enough “Never fucking touch me again” you spat, pushing him off you. The hatred in your voice rooted him to the spot and he said nothing as you walked out, the door slamming behind you.

Once you were outside the apartment building, the reality of what had just happened and the situation you were in started to wash over you. You had no phone, no wallet, your laptop was dead. Just as you were starting to seriously panic, an uber pulled up and Colson had leapt out of the backseat. You’d been in total shock and had just let Colson guide you into the cab and then out into his house, up to his room. He didn’t say anything as he led you to his bathroom and lifted you up onto the counter. He grabbed a flannel and soaked it with warm water, rinsing it out before pressing it softly against the cut on your cheek, gently wiping away the blood that had mixed with your mascara laced tears. The tenderness of his actions was almost too much and you started to sob again.

“Hey, hey. Y/N, look at me” he said softly, lifting your chin so you looked at him, his blue eyes misty themselves “It’s okay, you’re safe here. Don’t move, I’ll be back in a sec”

He left the bathroom and returned with a pair of boxers and a t-shirt. Putting them on the counter next to you, he crouched down and undid the straps on your heels, slipping them off your feet and then helping you down from the counter. “I’ll leave you to change”

When you came out of the bathroom, Colson was lying in his bed “Come here” he said, holding his arm and beckoning into his side. You crawled under the covers next to him and snuggled into him, his long arms wrapping around you.

“Col…” you said quietly

“Yeah?” he whispered back, stroking your hair off your forehead

“Thank you…”

“You don’t need to thank me. I’ve always got you Y/N”

______

“I hated that fucking guy. That night...I wanted to kill him after what he’d done to you”

You see him tense up at the memory and you lean over and squeeze his knee “You’re such an amazing friend, do you know that. I don’t know what I would’ve done that night without you”

"You're a fucking warrior Y/N, you'd have handled your shit. I was just happy you trusted me enough to let me be there for you. You deserve so much better than that" he says, covering the hand you'd placed on his knee with his, staring you in the eyes and returning the smile that's crept across your face

"You know there's been a few punches I've wanted to dole out on behalf of you over the years, but you've never let me" you tell him

"Too right I'd never let you. I never want you in the drama, you're too good for getting caught up in that shit" he replies, pointing at you with mock sternness

"Hey" he says, seeing your expression wash over with a tint of sadness "At least the sleepless nights aren't what they were then…

… If we're gonna work through some old demons this lockdown, I'm sure I've got some songs and lyrics that have never seen the light of day" He reaches over the desk and pulls his laptop towards him "You've inspired me… "

"Oh no, are we gonna fuck our heads up with this?" you joke nervously, worrying that Colson's going to delve into something that's going to upset him

"Nah, I got you covered and you got me, right?"

"True dat" you say, as he holds his fist out so you can fistbump, his eyes now focused on his laptop screen

______

You felt kinda bad, having kept Colson up all night with you the last two nights, especially as you'd got him reminiscing about some tough memories, so tonight you tried to sneak past his room when your restlessness got the better of you.

"Nice try kid!" Colson says as he throws his bedroom door open, causing you to yelp in fright. standing there topless with his sweatpants hung low in his hips, he lights the joint hanging from his mouth "I told you we were in this together now"

"I felt bad, making you stay up with me"

"You didn't make me do shit…Wait a sec, let me find a hoodie. If I have any left in here…" he says, giving a pointed look towards the huge blue hoodie you were wrapped in before walking back into his room and rummaging through his drawers

"Oh shush, you have like a hundred…"

"Right come on" he says, pulling a pink hoodie over his head and flipping the hood up over his messy hair "Let's see what we get into tonight…"

______

And so the nights went on like this, the two of you falling into an easygoing studio routine. If there wasn't anything else going on in the house, you'd eat dinner together then head to the studio and work through the night into the small hours, skipping out the pretense of trying to sleep. You were both pretty productive at this time it seemed, both being proclaimed night owls, and keeping busy during these uncertain times was keeping your minds off the unfolding pandemic.

Considering he’d referred to his home studio in the past as the ‘rage cage’ (and it certainly could still be party central when the entire crew got involved), it was actually a place you drifted towards to relax these days. You’d always worked well together in a studio, but over the weeks spending so much time just the two of you, you became more in tune with each other, noticing when one of you had hit a wall and it was time for bed. Sometimes you'd work in comfortable silence, side by side, engrossed in your own seperate tasks. Sometimes barely any work would get done as you put the world to rights talking about anything and everything in a late night impromptu therapy session.

This evening, you'd been sitting cross legged in your chair for hours now, focusing so hard on editing a song which was driving you mad, you hadn't realised your feet had gone numb. As you try to move, your knees crack and pins and needles shoot through your legs. Colson looks up from the screen he'd been engrossed in after hearing you groan and sees you rubbing your feet trying to bring back the feeling to them

‘C’mere’ he said, before turning his chair towards you and leaning down to grab your legs, bringing your feet up onto his lap. He pulls your socks off and begins massaging your feet. You lean your head back, eyes closed and let out a long ‘hmmm’. You don’t see Colson glancing over at you and shifting in his seat as he lets out slow breath before turning back to his screen

“Now this is the kind of work session I could get used to”, you sighed "You being my studio bitch on hand for foot rubs. Although, I imagine this enjoyment goes both ways Mr Foot Lover” you tease, throwing him an exaggerated wink

Colson throws his head back with a hearty chuckle, and light heartedly slaps your calf

"Keep it in your pants Y/N"

You laugh and wiggle your toes, Colson letting out a dramatic, throaty groan in response. "Those are some sexy little toes though" he states, sticking his tongue out.

Still laughing, you put your hand to your chest, and gasp as you feign prudishness and try to pull your feet away. He grabs both your feet in one of his hands, keeping them in place then leans over the desk and pulls your laptop towards you

"Get on with some work you, this is supposed to be keeping you motivated, not distracted"

He scolds affectionately, with a smile on his face

“Okay, okay, spoilsport” you grumble as you pull your computer onto your lap

Half an hour passes, your legs still on Colson’s lap with him still massaging your feet absentmindedly with one hand while he works, and your eyes begin to feel heavy. You don’t realise you’ve fallen asleep, until you’re awoken by a “woah” from Colson as he catches your laptop which is about to fall. Taking it from your lap, he states “Right, time for bed you”

You check your phone and see it’s already 5:36am.

You stand up and stretch then walk over behind Colson, putting your arms around his shoulders, and resting your chin on his head. Looking at his screen, you yawn “You got much left to do?”

He leans back into you, bringing his hand up to rest on your arm, “Making some good progress so just gonna finish a couple of bits”

“Okay dude” you gently kiss the top of his head and squeeze the back of his neck a couple of times as you turn to leave “Try and get some rest, we’ve got a long day of sweet fuck all to do tomorrow” you say through another big yawn

“Heh yeah, Night Kid” he says softly, letting out a yawn himself. Colson turns and watches you head out of the studio and lets out a big sigh. Feeling the back of his neck still tingle from where you’d squeezed it, he’s suddenly aware of how empty the room feels without you in it....

______

Taglist: @triplexdoublex @thisshitisfuckingdifficult @brightblaqkkheaven

Lace Up! ❌❌