#i still call this website drunk duck in my head since that's when i joined and was super active on it
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In the beginning of the month I started to post my PonyxMuffy fancomic on The Duck Webcomics, after discovering that I can still access my old account, and I got featured~! They even wrote a little blurb about it!
It's always fun to see people describe my art hehe
#you can ignore this post- i just made it since i'm happy to see this haha#i still call this website drunk duck in my head since that's when i joined and was super active on it#i recently remembered some webcomics from it and decided to see what became of them#one actually finished (simply sarah) so i have new reading for me in the new year#and i'll probably check out the other webcomics that are currently popular on it at the same time as well#since the site still gives off old-school webcomic site vibes which i love#it all has to wait until the new year though since i'm a supermarket worker by day and the holidays are a busy time of the year in my job#somebody's gotta stock all the selves that the customer empty after all (+ i need to fullfill many e-shop orders)#busy times busy times
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Everything's Bigger In Texas
Summary: You decide to drive up to Dallas to surprise your old high school buddy, Jared, while he’s there for a convention.
Pairing: Jared x Reader Rating: 18+ Tags: J2 convention hilarity, dick jokes, only one bed, high school friends, spooning, size kink Word Count: 3,504 Bingo Squares: @spnkinkbingo - Size Kink
A/N: Not set around any particular season. For the purpose of this story, Jared and Jensen are both single, non-fathers.
Commissioned by: @jbbarnesgirl She had a great prompt that this has now spawned a sequel (which will be a member exclusive on my website)! Thanks for letting my mind run wild on this one babe ❤️
You pull into the parking space the valet wrote on your ticket and park with a dramatic exhale of relief. You’ve actually gone through with it and made the three hour drive up to Dallas to surprise Jared at his convention this weekend.
It had been years since your last high school reunion in Austin when you’d run into each other and wound up drunk in a Waffle House at three in the morning, stuffing your faces with bacon and french fries. You and he were the kind of friends that were awful at keeping in touch but time traveled straight back to junior year anytime you ran into each other. You’ve always been able to talk and laugh like only a weekend had passed between visits instead of years.
You hope Jared’s happy to see you, because you’ve been bursting at the seams with excitement since you came up with your ‘surprise’ plan.
The hotel lobby is swarming with fans and you wonder how on earth you’re going to find Jared in all the bustle. Your plan is to find someone who looks like they’re working the convention and ask for directions to Jared and Jensen’s bodyguard, Clif, who you hope to God remembers dropping your drunk ass off at your apartment after the Waffle House incident. It’s not a very elegant plan but it’s all you’ve got. You spot someone with a lanyard and a walkie-talkie and beeline toward them, fingers crossed in your pocket.
Twenty minutes and several tiers up the convention staff hierarchy later you’re finally led to a service hallway and ushered towards a door, Clif standing guard stoically outside it. The employee escorting you speaks quietly to Clif while you stand there awkwardly, rocking back and forth, toes to heel, in an effort to contain your nervous energy. A look of recognition slowly dawns across the bodyguard’s face as he takes another look at you.
“Austin, a couple years ago?” he asks to confirm.
“High school reunion,” you nod in affirmation, relieved he actually does remember you.
“No getting Jared drunk until after the panel,” Clif admonishes, aiming a thick finger menacingly at your face, and you nod gravely before his face cracks into a grin and he swings the door behind him back on its hinges.
“Y/N?!” Jared’s facing the door and spots you immediately, his face breaking into a wide smile. The anxiety that had solidified in your chest with each passing mile on your way here disintegrates, carrying the tension out of your body as it melts away.
“Hey there, Hot Shot.”
Jared bounds forward and wraps you tightly in a hug, the muscles in his arms visibly bulging the sleeves of his t-shirt as he squeezes you against him, which you can’t help but notice because your eye level is at his bicep. You hug him back as tightly as you can manage, pressing your cheek into his chest.
“How ya doin’, squirt?” Jared grabs your shoulders and manhandles you away from him so he can get a better look at you, his eyes racing up and down your figure. “What are you doing here?”
“Well, Dallas is only a three hour drive,” you shrug. It’s no big deal really, you’d just wanted to see him. “Plus my mom cancelled our girls’ weekend, so I had nothing better to do,” you grin, your eyes twinkling up at him wryly. Behind you, you hear Jensen snort with laughter. Jared turns to his friend, giving him a withering look and Jensen chokes back another laugh, unable to hide his amusement.
“Dude, you were her back-up plan after her mom?”
“Shut up,” Jared rolls his eyes but you join in Jensen’s giggles.
“I’m Jensen, by the way,” the man in question raises a hand in greeting, and you smile back.
“Y/N,” you wave. “Went to high school with this nut case,” you jerk your thumb towards Jared.
“Feels like I do too,” Jensen laughs. “He still acts like he’s fourteen most of the time.”
“Hey!” Jared points an accusing finger at Jensen, “at least fifteen, thank you very much.”
“And what exactly is the distinction between fourteen and fifteen here, Jay?” he asks.
“He doesn’t pop a boner every time he talks to a girl anymore?” you offer, snickering. Jensen bursts out laughing, a full bellied, joyous sound that fills out every corner of the room. Jared is rolling his eyes again, but you spy the faint blush that’s started to creep up his neck, and based on the smirk Jensen’s wearing, you think he’s spotted it too.
“So,” Jared draws out the syllable, trying to change the topic. “Are you staying for the convention then?”
“Got my ticket and everything,” you wave your pass in the air. “But mainly I just wanted to see you, it’s been way too long.”
“Yeah, it has,” Jared squeezes your arm affectionately. “Where’s your seat? I think we’re getting called out soon.”
“Oh I’m with the plebs at the back, standing room. Seeing your ass is only worth so much money,” you tease.
“You’re standing?” Jared’s brow shoots up. “You won’t be able to see a damn thing,” he laughs.
“You’re tall enough to see from space, Bigfoot,” you try to hit him on the head but he easily stretches his neck so you can’t reach, illustrating your point.
“She’s gotcha there, J-Rod,” Jensen agrees, strolling forwards and smacking Jared on the back of the head for you, since your attempt was foiled. “But you don’t have to stand all the way back there, sweetheart,” Jensen adds. “Come out with us, we’ll have someone put you at the side of the stage.”
“Oh, no, it’s fine. I really don’t mind standing,” you protest. You didn’t want to take space away from the fans who had paid for the close seats. You’re only a casual watcher of the show anyways, ghosts and monsters aren’t so much your thing, you just watch it because of Jared.
“Nah, c’mon,” Jared ignores your protest, striding back towards the door and popping his head out to talk to Clif. “Can you have them slap an extra chair on the side of the stage? Y/N’s gonna stick around for the panel.”
“Sure thing,” Clif nods, and radioes a volunteer to get it done.
“Jared,” you roll your eyes at your friend.
“Too late,” he taunts. “You’re stuck with the fangirls now.”
“Just keep in mind all the shit I could tell them,” you threaten jokingly.
“Nah, you won’t do that.” Jared’s entirely unconcerned.
“Why not?”
“Because then I won’t pay for our drinks tab later,” he smirks.
You mime turning a lock and throwing away the key. “My lips are sealed.”
“You better tell me later though, sweetheart,” Jensen ducks his head to whisper in your ear as they usher you out the door.
“Buy me a couple cosmos, you can know anything you want,” you smirk, and let Jensen and Jared guide you out to the convention hall for their panel.
“I will definitely take you up on that,” Jensen’s breath ghosts ticklishly over your ear. He shoots you a wink as he ducks behind a dividing curtain and you wave back giggling, and make your way to the seat Clif is pointing you towards.
The panel is a whole lot of fun, and you have to admit it’s definitely better sitting up front than it would have been fighting to stay standing in the sea of hormones jostling at the back. This close up, you can see Jared and Jensen’s reactions much more clearly, too; every secretive grin between them, every twitching laugh line, every aborted glance back in your direction. Laughter rings through the crowd and you refocus your attention on the questions.
“Which one of us is the biggest what?” Jensen speaks into his mic, asking the girl on the opposite side of the stage to you to repeat her question.
“Well I’m the biggest,” Jared cuts in smirking, and the audience cheers and giggles. Jared flashes them a bright, goofy smile.
“Well, that depends on what she’s asking,” Jensen smacks Jared on the arm. The girl tries to ask her question again but she’s laughing through it and the words come out garbled again.
“Which one of us has the biggest pants?” Jared’s brow raises as he incorrectly repeats the question again. You know there’s no way that’s what the girl asked. “That’s still me darlin’.” He turns to your side of the stage goddamn winks, and you flush just as deeply as the girl asking her question. You roll your eyes at him, glad that he probably can’t see you very clearly due to the stage lights shining in his eyes.
“That topic is still up for debate, actually,” Jensen protests seriously.
“No it’s not,” Jared scoffs.
“Uh, yeah, it is.” Jensen’s not backing down. “Costume department compared our measurements bro, they’re the same.”
“You and I both know that didn’t include the measurement they’re talking about,” Jared glares jokingly out at the audience.
There’s wolf whistles and shrieks of delight from the crowd and Jensen bursts out laughing. “You’re gonna give them all aneurysms, man.”
You certainly feel like you might be having an aneurysm. Your blood is pumping hot and hard through your veins. You can actually hear it swirling around your body, leaking out into your capillaries, carrying burning embarrassment and desire to the tips of each vessel.
It’s a running joke, the size difference between you and Jared. He towers over most of the people he meets, so it’s not unsurprising that he towers over you as well. He’s called you ‘squirt’ as long as you can remember knowing him, and you’ve called him every name you can dream up, from ‘sasquatch’ to ‘jolly green giant’.
As you both grew older, and Jared’s physique caught up to his height, and your mind started to take up a more permanent residence in…ahem… lower places than it had inhabited in your youth, you began to wonder just how big Jared would be if you ever… You imagine big. Proportional, at the very least. Though, Jared has always been an overachiever, you imagine it might extend to this measurement as well. You secretly hope, anyway.
You gulp nervously. There’s a reason you and Jared had gotten so trashed the last time you’d hung out, and that was so you could drown your burgeoning crush in some socially acceptable poison and hope it didn’t break its head through the surface. Jared looks back at you and flashes you a smile, probably in relation to whatever he’d just said but you hadn’t been listening, mind too preoccupied thinking about the size of your friend’s dick. You let out a sigh of resignation – you were going to have to get smashed tonight, too.
“Oh,” Jensen’s voice rings through the auditorium as he finally understands the question. “Which one of us did the biggest prank?”
“Uh, Jensen,” Jared answers after a moment of dramatised consideration, “just now when he told you all he has a bigger dick than me.”
There’s an echoing thud as Jensen smacks Jared’s head with his microphone and Jared and Jensen both double up laughing, covering their mics so it doesn’t reverberate around the room. When things settle down after a minute you see Jensen lean towards Jared to say something privately. The mics don’t pick it up, but you’re close enough that you think you hear him say, “later tonight, we’re getting out the ruler.”
The hotel bar is basically empty, but you and Jared are still in a private room at the back so he doesn’t get mobbed by fans if they do happen to wander in. Jensen had joined you for a drink earlier, but he had to leave to perform at the Saturday night concert for the convention.
-
“Do you ever perform on Saturdays?” you poked at Jared, and both he and Jensen laughed wildly.
“Never in a million years,” Jared shook his head. “I just watch this guy give everyone in the room phantom orgasms all night.”
“Gross, dude,” Jensen shuddered as Jared guffawed but you had to agree, Jensen’s voice was orgasmic.
“Have fun with your ménage a several hundreds,” you waved Jensen off with a giggle.
“You’ll have to join in sometime,” Jensen backed out of the room with a wicked grin, wiggling his eyebrows ridiculously and leaving you and Jared laughing behind him.
-
“You want another one?” Jared asks, pointing at your nearly empty glass.
“If I have any more I’ll have to crawl back to Austin,” you hiccup, the alcohol making you giggle-y and unsteady despite your seated state.
“You’re not goin’ back to Austin, squirt,” Jared protests, drowning the remainder of his own glass.
“Am I being kidnapped?”
“Damn straight. You’re not driving anywhere tonight, don’t be stupid.”
“I was gonna dry out a little first,” you defend yourself. Of course you weren’t planning to drive home drunk.
“By the time you sober up it will be way too late to go back. Just stay the night here,” Jared shrugs, indicating it’s no big deal for you to crash. You think about it for a moment and then agree that staying over is a better plan. Besides, Jared will have a big fancy room since the convention is paying for them to stay here – he’ll have plenty of space for you.
“Fine,” you sigh dramatically but you aren’t all that perturbed, and Jared knows it too. “Thank you.”
“What are friends for?” Jared grins. “C’mon, I’ll grab a bottle from the bar and let’s go upstairs. I don’t want to get caught in the crowd after the concert finishes.” You also don’t want to be mobbed by hundreds of concert goers, so you happily follow Jared out of the bar and up to his hotel room.
Jared flops dramatically onto his bed when you get inside, but you stand by the door, taking in your surroundings. As you’d imagined, the room is lavish. Every piece of furniture is accented with metallics, and every soft surface is heaped with pillows, including the bed Jared is now snuggling back onto. But, you note with a bit of surprise, there is only one bed.
Apparently fancy doesn’t automatically come with multiple beds – and why should it? Jared hadn’t expected anybody to stay the night, he’d only needed the one bed. Had he known there was only one bed when he offered you a place to crash for the night? Or had someone else brought up the luggage that you could see piled at the foot of the bed, meaning he wouldn’t have known what the exact sleeping situation would turn out to be? You’re jolted out of your frenzied contemplation when Jared throws a pillow at your head, though it narrowly misses and hits the door behind you.
“Are you just gonna stand there all night?” he laughs, eyes crinkling.
“Uh, no, course not,” you scoff, hoping Jared assumes the flush creeping over your skin is from alcohol, and not embarrassment. Jared scoots over to one side of the bed and pats the empty space he’s just created. The bottle of whiskey he’d brought from the bar downstairs is propped next to him on the pillows and it bounces as you settle yourself on top of the covers. You reach for it and peel back the foil cap, pulling the cork free with a pop.
“Wanna watch something?” Jared rifles on the side of the bed, digging for his laptop in the bag on the floor.
“Whatever you want,” you shrug.
You inwardly hope watching something might help you control your drunk chatter. Your mind has been wandering to one specific place since the panel this afternoon and you’re hyper aware that when you get tipsy, your filter becomes non existent. You do not want to give Jared an unsolicited insight into your horribly inappropriate mind.
Your eyes shift from the bottle in your hands to Jared’s laptop, now open and sitting on his thighs while he surfs through movie options online. His hands overwhelm the breadth of the keyboard, the pads of each long finger almost bigger than the letter keys they’re hovering over. How far could those fingers reach if they were… No. You curtail that course of thought with a swig of whiskey straight from the bottle and flick your eyes away from his hands.
Jared’s legs are pressed together, gangly limbs and knees scrunched up and pushing the fabric at his hips into ripples. An unmissable bulge sits at the apex of his thighs, distending the denim so it’s stretched tightly across his cock while it’s bunched and wrinkled everywhere else. You swallow hard and tear your gaze away, forcing yourself to look back at Jared’s laptop. He’s stopped scrolling now, and after a moment you realise he’s asking you if the movie he’s hovering over is an okay choice. You nod mutely and take another drink.
“Woah there darlin’, save some for the rest of us,” he laughs, grabbing the bottle from your hands, fingertips brushing over yours as he wraps them around the green glass. You wonder if Jared feels the same pang of electricity that you do when you touch. He’s evidently curious as to why you recoiled so quickly, because he’s now carefully studying your hand and the fingers that had just brushed against his.
Your moment of thick silence is interrupted by the fanfare of opening credits as the movie begins to play, startling you. Jared smooshes himself further back into the feather pillows on the unfairly comfy bed and stretches his arms wide, patting the pillow he’s using as an armrest to summon you to him.
Nervous and giddy all at once, you tuck yourself into the crook of his arm, curling up against his side. Even laying down he feels so much bigger than you. Your eyes drop again, unbidden, to his lap and you rip your gaze away quickly. The whiskey must be settling in now, because you start to feel sleepy and because, for just a second, you think that the bulge in Jared’s crotch looks even larger than it had a few minutes earlier.
Jared pulls you close against him, offering you the whiskey bottle again, and you take it happily. The two of you lazily glug more booze and laugh along with whatever comedy is on the laptop, and you’re utterly content. At some point in time your neck loses its ability to support your head and you topple it sideways onto Jared’s shoulder.
“You comfy there, Y/N?”
“Mm-hmm,” you hum sleepily, snuggling even deeper into Jared’s chest, your arm winding itself around his waist of its own accord, and Jared squeezes you against him, laughing softly into your hair.
You aren’t sure when you fell asleep – you don’t remember the end of the movie at all. You don’t even remember how you’d wound up under the covers, cradled snugly in the bend of Jared’s body. Wiggling a little to reintroduce feeling into your left arm, you shift backwards into his chest, secretly hoping the arm currently resting on top of the covers might drop around your waist as you continue to sleep.
Arching out to stretch your legs a little, you wind up nudging your hips back into Jared’s and you freeze in shock. Here, pressed close beneath the confines of cotton-swaddled feathers, you feel it… and you can tell – Jared hadn’t been kidding at the panel earlier. He must be bigger than Jensen, because there’s no way anyone could be physically larger than what you feel pressing into the curve of your ass right now.
Your whole body flushes, but you’re too scared to move away lest you wake Jared, so you stay. You try to breathe, systematically unclenching the muscles in your body from head to toe and allowing yourself to relax against your bed companion. Darkness settles around you when your eyes drift shut again but the light from Jared’s laptop still casts a faint blue tint against your eyelids.
That comforting blue morphs into a shocking orange, and your eyes squint against the unexpected source of light now coming from the open door. Seconds later it’s even brighter as the lights in the room are switched on to reveal Jensen leaning casually against the back of the door, smirking in the direction of the bed. Behind you, Jared has jolted awake, sitting up and pitching you forward into the mattress with the force of his disturbance.
“Jay?” he asks blearily, yawning through the word.
“Why did I have a feeling this is what I’d be walking into tonight?” Jensen answers with a laugh and a kind roll of his eyes. You look sleepily between both of the men, confused as all hell.
Finally, it occurs to you why Jensen must be in the room – and why there had only been one bed.
Part 2 now up as an exclusive commission on my website!
We’re All Mads Here: @vulgar-library @tintentrinkerin @negans-lucille-tblr @fandomfic-galore @petitgateau911 @schaefchenherde @kickingitwithkirk @little-diable @laxe-chester67 @kassyscarlett @austin-winchester67 @flamencodiva @katbratsupernaturalwhore
All SPN: @cemini-winchester @akshi8278 @stoneyggirl @deandreamernp @lyarr24 @lovealways-j @slamminmine @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @eddiesgirl @raidens-realm @tatted-trina6 @defenderrosetyler @delightfullykrispypeach @05supernatural20 @sams-sass @calaofnoldor @thinkinghardhardlythinking
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Six Blind Dates
Protagonist: Min Yoongi Main Pairing: Yoonmin Ships: Yoonseok, Namjin, Namgi, Taegi, Yoonjin, Yoonkook
Summary: Min Yoongi has been a hermit during his first year in college; mostly keeping to himself, burying his head in his studies and holing up in the school’s radio station. Now that he’s entering his second year, his brother has been riling him up to get experimental, since it is college. So he joins a dating website, for men, and waits for his 6 blind dates.
Part: 1 / ?
Yoongi stares at the lighted screen of his laptop. The page sits still, cursor blinking, waiting for him to feed it information. He bristles every time someone passes by, suddenly feeling conscious about having the website on his screen. Lowering down the brightness, he cracks his fingers and slowly fills out the blanks. Simple questions gave way to intimate ones that got him squirming in his seat.
“Experience in bed?” Yoongi murmurs the brazen question to himself.
He types it out letter by letter, V I R G I N. The six-letter word blared at him like a loudspeaker. His fingers drummed the table as he chews on his lips. With a sigh, he adds ‘when it comes to gay sex’.
“Fuck, that makes me sound like a bottom,” he cringes and deletes his answer.
To be honest, he didn’t know if he was or was not a bottom; it was all new to him. His older brother had said, “Yoongi, it’s college! It’s the time for experiments. You gotta find out what you like be it Asian or black, chubby or thin and perhaps men or women.”
His brother’s words got him thinking that day. Yoongi has to admit, the three times he had done it with girls wasn’t as satisfying as how porn has shown him to be. He groaned and moaned but that was about it. And walking on the streets, his eyes don’t seem to linger on the busty breasts of women or the voluptuous curves of their asses. So maybe, he ought to heed his brother’s advice, he decided.
With an irritated groan, he skips the question altogether, moving on with the rest of his profile. He schemes through, filling it out with less-than-profound interest, leaving vague answers. Since it’ll be his first date, he figured that he would just wing it.
“There,” Yoongi huffs after typing the last letter. “Now, we wait.”
The nerves in him twitch at the sight of his profile going online, making www.blinddates.com his first step into the world he barely knows about. Yoongi sits back in his chair and watches the students parade around the library with their stack of books piled high. In the back corner, he sees a group of them huddled over Shakespeare books. Their lead man flails his arm around as he reads a paragraph. His back was facing Yoongi as he spews his thoughts like a priest during Sunday Mass.
Yoongi rolls his eyes at the pretentious hipsters mulling over stories written by a drunk historical man. With a second of hesitation, he leans his chair further back to take a better look at the lead man, wondering if it’ll turn him on. His back was well muscled and broad, twitching with every move. Yoongi’s eyes raked over the long legs; the man was tall, obviously reaching above 5 foot. He hums to himself, not really feeling anything. Just before the man could turn around, Yoongi’s phone blasted its monotonous ringtone, startling him to the point where he almost fell of his chair.
“What?!” he answered in a hushed voice, not even checking who it was.
“It’s your hyung dick head. Don’t tell me the American culture got to your head already.”
“Fuck,” he muttered to himself after catching his breath. That near-death experience almost got him religious enough to pray to a god. “I’m sorry hyung. You caught me in a bad time. Why’d you call?”
“Well, I wanted to ask, have you gotten in the game yet? It’s been a week since I introduced you to that dating website.”
Yoongi looks over to his open screen. His profile sat like a lonely duck, waiting to be fed. He sighs as he closes the laptop, “I just posted my profile, still waiting to be picked up.”
“Did you use that picture of yours with the red suit? You totally look like a sexy vampire.”
He cringes and pulls his phone away. Having your brother tell you you’re sexy like a vampire was a little disconcerting. “Um no I-”
“Wait but what look are you going for though? You know, you can send the wrong message with the wrong profile picture.”
“Hyung I’m ju-” Again, he was cut off by his overly excited brother.
“I say leave it with the red suit if you want that sexy get-up. Go with that all black suit to go for a mysterious vibe. And um, oh! One of your selfies with those glasses on to give that classy look.”
“Hyungg,” Yoongi groans, pounding his head on the table. “I have a profile picture that screams NORMAL GUY. Now leave me be. I’ve got to get to the radio station.”
He hears his brother grumble on the other side of him being ungrateful before he finally gives in. “Fine,” his brother huffs. “Just tell me when you get a match.”
Just as he takes a step out of the library, his phone lights up. Yoongi looks down and was pleasantly surprised to find that he already had a match. Someone named Kim Namjoon.
My BTS Masterlist
The sequels will be under BTS Stories but if you want to navigate easily, just click on the first tag. I’ll post all of the chapters under the same tag. I hope you guys enjoy this!
#sofieyoonminfic#bts#bts army#bts imagines#bts scenes#bts scenarios#bts fanfics#bts yoongi#bts suga#bts min yoongi#bts jimin#bts park jimin#bts j hope#bts jung hoseok#bts namjoon#bts rap monster#bts kim namjoon#bts jin#bts kim seokjin#bts v#bts taehyung#bts kim taehyung#bts jungkook#bts jeon jungkook#bts yoonmin#bts yoonmin fics#bts yoonseok#bts sope#bts namjin#bts au
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