#i’m trying to provoke but also hate hehe its not good !

[fatimajpeg]

i mean think about it, what is even the point of jjk?

[lovieku]

MOTHERFUCKIN’ TRAIN WRECK! ⋆ 정국

𐙚 if you were my boyfriend… and you were my girlfriend…

when renowned fuckboy jeon jeongguk catches feelings, he loses his mind. only when it comes to you, though.

based on this ask

from the grande series ୨ৎ

pairing: fuckboy!jk x fem!reader

genre: fwb au

warnings: small smutty moments (cunnilingus, fingering, tiny boob play), angst, fluffi maybe idk, whipped and jelly koo, ft. namjoon!!!, oblivious oc, deep down she feels it too but jk is simply too much of a simp so it doesn’t look like it at first, he’s also so petty and sassy, jokes about ending it if oc doesn’t give him a chance </3, he’s just a little shit, peep the lyrics from boyfriend hehe, oh btw happy ending!!!

word count: 18k

a/n: wowww i’m so sorry for this pile of nonsense, it’s so bad i vomited a little in my mouth. i hate every single thing about it but i didn’t wanna leave you guys starved. i love u sm and thank u for the support, but u’re allowed to leave hate asks for what u’re about to read rn ❤️ also i’m SO SORRY for being unable to write a jungkook who isn’t a simp

🏷️ perm taglist: @ceellliiinee @jaytheatiny @dolligguk @luvismenu @theyloveyams @stillwjk-channie-lixie @bookstoread199 @girlygguk @vieviela @myngiii @angelxkoo @nnybtitts08 @mpbrinkss @https-mei @lyywst @mhdelu @apobangpogirlyyy @khadeeeeej @awrkive

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Jeongguk was only supposed to clean you up. That’s what he calls it when his angelic face finds its place between your spread legs, sinful eyes locking with yours, paired with a smirk you can hardly ever survive.

After all, he’s a man of simple devices. Why bother fetching a towel when he can use his own mouth? When he can let his tongue lap at your juices, slurp every last trace, have an excuse to taste you again, and again, and again?

It’s barely even effective as a way to clean you up, of drying the slick mess that sticks to your inner thighs from cumming three times under his merciless doings— you both know that. Then, how does he expect you not to break a fourth when he runs his wet muscle so torturously along your slit, getting ever more soaked?

Jeongguk is not really trying to end the night. He’s drawing it out. He already had you unraveling in phases— first on his fingers, then all over his cupid lips, ending with you convulsating just another time around his thick length.

It was rough, left purplish marks of his harsh hold digging into your sides, a faint trace of a forbidden hickey just under your collarbones, where you can easily hide it.

In all fairness, he couldn’t help it.

It was you who provoked him. You always do, getting under his skin, teasing him about his skills, downgrading them with playful indifference and nothing more than a meh, as Jeongguk rasps in your ear, clearly affected by your session of foreplay when asking, “Does this make you feel good?”

You’ll be sent straight to hell for lying like that, with seemingly no remorse, but you’re unable to resist the dangerous game and the familiar thrill that comes from it. Nothing compares to the dark wave that takes over his hooded eyes, his motions ever more intentional, almost overwhelming.

He moves to prove something to you, to show you there’s no one quite like him, even with all the guys in your phone, on your lips, inside your sheets.

Jeongguk is your fuckbuddy, and your friend on top of the rest. So, when he first laid his lips on yours, the bottom line plumper than his cupid’s bow, it had taken a great amount of alcohol to flow through both of your veins and blur the lines, let instinct take over.

From there, it was like you couldn’t help yourselves; the physical attraction was undeniable, it’s what brought you here in between the mess of his bed. If you ignore the silly crush you had on him during the first year of college, this was perfect.

Your fuckbuddy contract (Jeongguk hates calling you that, he prefers my friend who makes me cum a lot) includes a heavy emphasis on a no-strings-attached relationship, that can be interrupted whenever one of the two feels uncomfortable, and that should not come before your friendship. On top of all, you both are not exclusive. No commitment, no jealousy. You’re perfectly free of meeting other people, fucking other people. Unless you’re going to date one of those, of course. Then, bye-bye friend who makes me cum a lot.

These rules were established almost a year ago, after your hands couldn’t help themselves from roaming hastily all over his body, pulling him impossibly closer. It was the second time you allowed yourself to feel him, following the night when he initiated things under the clouded lights of a club.

You couldn’t help it. You had been thinking of that moment for weeks now, and when you were left alone with him in his dorm room, pulse racing, it’s all your thoughts were reduced to. Kiss him, kiss him, fuck him.

You felt guilty. A friend shouldn’t be thinking of another friend like you were about Jeongguk. Especially after you promised yourself you wouldn’t let your buried crush resurface and ruin what you had built— even if the memory of that infatuation is honestly just laughable now (you would never think of dating him, pft).

But Jeongguk, ever the gentlest when it comes to you, assured you it was okay to feel as you did, because he felt it too. And was dying to touch you again. His words, not yours.

It’s only sexual. A casual, sexual relationship. Two friends who happen to find each other irresistible.

So when he reacts with a flash of competitiveness at the mere suggestion he might not be the best you’ve ever had, it’s… weird, the feeling that overcomes you. You acknowledge it for a split second, as if you’re searching to name that something inside you stirring, but before you can, it seems to make you fall apart immediately, your grip tighter, back arched, moans high-pitched.

He basks in his silent victory, in the factual demonstration that he in fact can’t be compared to all your other guys.

Except, there’s actually no other guys.

Back when this friends-with-benefits arrangement first started, you were occasionally fooling around with an older guy from campus named Mingyu. Jeongguk knew him, given that they’re in the same photography class. He was also aware of your casual fling with him. And yet, Jeongguk still kissed you. Actually, did so much more than just that.

Either way, the line has always been clear: he has no right to question who you spend time with and what you engage in, Jeongguk isn’t a saint either.

You love him, you truly do. With time, he has become one of your closest friends, and you honestly can’t see yourself getting through college without him.

But there’s no denying the fuckboy allegations, the ones that are constantly thrown at him all around campus. He is a fuckboy. It must be his easy charm, flirting as natural as breathing, tripping out his tongue with seemingly not much thought. At some point, the majority of the girls in your campus got to have their moment with Jeongguk, either because of mindless teasing or one night stands, occasionally turning into casual arrangements.

You have accepted it as part of who he is. You know his fuckboy habits haven’t magically changed when you two started fucking. He doesn’t really spend much time talking about it with you, occasionally mentioning his doings every now and then, but you don’t need to know; his friends and the people whispering in hallways and lecture halls fill in the blanks.

That is exactly why you’ve let Jeongguk believe that your sexual life is equally as busy, floods of boys from your inbox to your sheets, as if you aren’t too much of a hopeless romantic to even think of anything that isn’t exclusively monogamous.

But this isn’t the case. Jeongguk isn’t yours, you aren’t his. It’s just about sex, and you’ve accepted that. You don’t want anything more from him. You tell yourself the only reason you’re not seeing anyone else is that the idea of it makes you uneasy. That you’re more than satisfied with Jeongguk being your friend-turned-into-fuckbuddy, and you don’t need other ones.

Jeongguk is more than enough. Oh, he is.

“Fuck, Gguk. You’re gonna make me cum— Ah, shit— again.”

Your head is thrown back in his pillow, legs weakly tightening around his head nestled so close to your core, and it’s clear his goal has completely shifted from getting you clean and neat when the tip of his tongue moves to flicker on your sensitive nub, relentlessly abusing it with casual kissing and sucking.

He opens his mouth to take more of you, his wet muscle tracing your slit and teasing your entrance for— sadly —the shortest second, and the way he hums approvingly against you brings you even closer to the breaking point.

You’re a fragile mess, overstimulated from the previous orgasms but desperate to chase yet another climax, his hands roaming up to find your breast only spurring you further.

Jeongguk knows you by now, and is aware of all the subtle gestures that make you come undone under him. He knows just what to do to push you over the edge, and when to do it exactly.

You’re a sucker for dirty talk and praise, and occasionally, when the ideal situation comes, you love being degraded. It’s a side of you that only ever arises during sex, mind hazed and irrational, the delirious need for release clouding all your usually composed senses.

At first, he teased you for it. Not because he’s not as much of a fan as you are of talking during sex, but because he never pictured you to be the loud type. And you truly are.

Jeongguk pinches your nipples in hopes of you getting the message and lowering your volume, but it only makes you whine higher, your moans surely not going unnoticed by the other students in the dorm.

It can only be worse when he decides to speak against you, his voice a low, almost unintelligible growl, “Pussy’s so fuckin’ good. All mine, fuck. Want to taste your cum once again, c’mon babe. Give it to me.”

And you, always obliging and well-behaved, let go for a fourth time, hips furiously rutting against his face, his words making your surroundings spin, the way his nose would brush your sensitive nub having your eyes roll to the back of your head.

Your gasp is strained when he retreats with one last wet stripe between your puffy lips, sealing the orgasm with a kiss on your clit, and when he finds your face again there’s a cockish grin spreading across his, chin coated with your juices.

He immediately meets your mouth then, sharing your own taste, and you both moan shamelessly at the action.

Jeongguk collapses next to you, his body warm and relaxed, pulling you closer by your waist and almost making you straddle him with the force of his hold. He sighs into your hair, kissing the root of it, “You did amazing for me, pretty girl.”

A pleasant shiver runs down your spine at the praise and the pet name rolling off his tongue with ease. It’s ridiculous.

With your cheek pressed against his chest, you glance up at him through your lashes and a lazy smile threatens to take over your face, but your playful pout is more prominent, almost convincing, “I’m never letting you do that trick on me again. Next time, I’m just going to take a shower like a normal person.”

The laugh he lets out is rich and unguarded, his chest rumbling under your ear, and it makes you pull away with a mock glare, brows knitted together as you swat at his toned stomach, “Don’t laugh. I hated that.”

His dark eyes soften as they dance with amusement, the corners crinkling, and he hums, going along with your blatant lie from the way your lips struggle to contain a grin, “Oh, absolutely. You were screaming in horror, couldn’t stand it.”

“Whatever,” you mutter incoherently, standing up to escape from the inevitable loss. The slick between your thighs reminds you of why you need that shower in the first place, causing you to awkwardly wobble your way to his bathroom.

Jeongguk watches you with a lopsided smirk, stretched out on the bed, his brown hair a messy halo on the pillow, and it completes the concept he goes perfectly with, the one of a devil dressed up as an angel, even more when his voice drips with faux desperation, “Hey, come back. I need my cuddles.”

“You’ll live,” you toss back before pulling the door shut behind you and stepping into the warm embrace of the shower. The hot water stings at first, then soothes you, sliding down your skin.

Jeongguk already knows the outcome of what he’s about to do isn’t going to turn in his favor, but he tries his luck regardless, standing up hastily and limply making his way to his bathroom door.

He only knocks twice, then puts on his best begging voice, talking loud enough to be heard over the shower, “Toots?”

“No!”

A scoff filters through the steamy air, followed by the unmistakable creak of the door handle as he steps inside. He’s relentless, voices his thoughts with the kind of logic only he would find convincing, “C’mon, we’ll save water!”

You stand with your back to him, his body wash traveling down your skin in soap bubbles, the scent filling the air, and you let your shoulders shrug. You don’t turn around. Number one, because you’ll give in. Number two, because you can hear the pout on his lips, and that’s the reason for number one.

You try your best to sound annoyed, “Jeongguk, just leave. You don’t even pay for it.”

“Our poor earth pays for it,” he quips, stepping further into the cramped space, body still bare, and that’s maybe a number three for you, “Because you wanna be so unfair to your best friend and leave him out in the cold.”

“You’re not my best friend.”

His gasp is dramatic, you even hear it echo through the tiny room, and you fight hard to contain the giggle locked inside you, but it escapes in the shape of a snort, which you quickly try to conceal by clearing your throat. You even further go with the lie, “You heard me.”

“Unbelievable. I’m kicking you out the second you’re done here,” he tries his best menacing tone, the threat barely harsh and effective, closing the door behind his back with an exaggerated thump, followed by unintelligible grumbling.

You take your sweet time in his now steamy bathroom. You shampoo twice, deliberately squeezing out a generous amount of his own fancy product in your palm, making sure the squeak of the bottle is heard through the door so he knows you’re helping yourself. His high-quality hair dryer blasts warm air over your damp hair until it’s only mildly wet. And you even rummage around his cabinet, indulging in his collection of expensive skincare creams. These little luxuries are exactly why you never pass a single occasion to shower over at his dorm room.

And the second you’re done in there, he doesn’t kick you out like he threatened. It takes a moment for him to move his attention from his phone to your figure, wrapped around in his fluffy robe, and he doesn’t even try to keep up the menacing act. Still spread on his ruined bed, his furrowed brows relax, and his lips break into a grin. He scans your face, then giggles, “You’ve got a massive pimple on your forehead.”

“Fuck you. I’m taking one of your hoodies.”

“It’s called borrowing,” even in the midst of checking out your freshly-washed naked body, now being stripped from his bathrobe, he’s still committed to the game of banter you two always play.

“It’s not if I’m not giving it back,” you counter, voice muffled by the fabric of one of his many black sweatshirts you’re already pulling over your head, quickly shuffling into your jeans, helping them up with some small hops that make him grin.

He doesn’t seem bothered by your comeback, too used to losing his own clothes to your closet; rather, he watches you move with what seems like hurry around his dimly lit room. He shifts higher, letting the sheets slip to reveal his still bare, and slightly sweaty torso, “Wanna hang out together at the party tomorrow?”

”Hmm, I’ll just see you there,” you don’t pay him much attention, using your phone camera as a mirror to wipe away any smudged mascara under your eyes. “I’ve already got a partner, actually.”

Jeongguk fully sits up now, vision a little blurry from the hasty and sudden movement, phone forgotten, “A partner?”

The way you casually let a smile tug at your lips while talking about a man is new, “Yeah. A guy from my English class asked me to go with him. He’s pretty cute.”

You’re too busy shoving your belongings in your bag and mentally cataloging every single item to notice the expression your best friend is currently sporting, his jaw tightening almost imperceptibly. Tank top, makeup, laptop… where the fuck is— oh, here. Lip balm. What else?

Jeongguk thinks you’re forgetting something deathly important. A fucking explanation, maybe? He’s known you to occasionally fool around with random guys, but he thought it was just that. Occasional and random. When did it get to having a partner? That sounds silly. Or maybe a little too formal, a little too real. What the fuck does having a partner even entail?

You’re blissfully unaware of the stubborn storm taking over Jeongguk’s thoughts, especially because you’re not exactly sparing him a second glance, moving with single-minded focus, hurrying to leave. Because apparently it’s so bad to want to spend the night with your best friend. Share a bed, watch a movie, talk gossip (it’s been so long since you’ve updated him the way only you can about the latest campus stories, ugh). Amazing, yes, that’s totally fine with Jeongguk.

And he does manage to sound unbothered, “What’s his name?”

“Namjoon.”

Jeongguk focuses on your slim fingers slipping your lip balm into the front pocket of your bag, syllabes leaving his lips in a slow mumble, “Ah, Namjoon. I know him. I guess.”

Fucking Kim Namjoon. Of course he knows him. 6 feet tall, polite, model student Kim Namjoon. Shit. Great choice. No, really, he’s the perfect catch.

“Hm? Well, I think he’s very nice. And hot as fuck.”

He grimaces, “Gross.”

“You’re one to talk,” pulling the hood over your head, you finally meet his eyes. You’re completely oblivious to the thoughts gnawing at him, so you think his disappointment is only caused by your next words, “I should get going now.”

“What? You’re not staying over for dinner?” The way he looks up at you with doe, puppy-dog eyes almost makes you trip on your own resolution, but you only ruffle his hair from your stance next to his bed, hoping the small action is enough to satisfy your hunger. Not for dinner.

“Nah, sorry Gguk. Gotta get up early for English class.”

He scoffs, moving stubbornly from your soothing touch, “Sure. English class with Joohyuk.”

“…Namjoon.”

“Right, that’s what I said. Namsun.”

You raise an eyebrow, half-laughing, “No, it’s Namjoon.”

“Namgi.”

“Namjoon.”

“Whatever, don’t care.” The words have barely any space to roll out through his pout, and along with his petty little slip-ups it’s the most childish act you’ve seen him pull so far. To be completely honest, he seems to break a new record every other day.

You fight the urge to roll your gaze at the ceiling, finding it impossible to deal with pouty, hungry and cuddle-starved Jeongguk. You sigh, muttering, “Insufferable.”

“Give me a kiss, brat.”

The teasing comes so naturally that for a second you don’t ponder on the demand being something a normal friend wouldn’t exactly ask. But it isn’t one you’ll deny.

You bend down to meet him as easily as he let the request out, muttering a playful Oh, I’m the brat now? before brushing his pushed lips with yours in a sweet, short kiss, enough to draw a soft sigh from both of you. You hum against it, voice warm with something that contradicts your words entirely, “I hate you.”

“You love me.”

“Sure,” rolling your eyes, you grant his cocky figure that little win, too tired to put up a fight, even if you almost rethink it when he confidently leans back against the pillows, smirking up at you. You decide to cut it short, it’s for the best, throwing your bag over your shoulder as well as one last look at him, before readying yourself for the walk of shame through his frat.

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Namjoon is, by all standards, the perfect guy. He’s genuine, smiles sweetly with his dimples showing and his eyes crinkling into crescents that make him seem both wise and youthful.

Careful, even protective over you, making sure you’re comfortable. With your drink, with your seat, with your conversation.

Almost too attentive, which should calm your nerves, but instead you feel yourself unable to fully let go. Open up to him like he’s doing with you, like you think you want to do.

You’re not sure. You can’t feel that mysterious spark everybody talks about. That spark Jeongguk admitted he’s never felt with anyone so far, no matter the number of girls he’s been with. The one he’s confessed he’s desperate to feel. The one you hope he can find.

Wait, why are you thinking about Jeongguk?

Said boy has yet to acknowledge you, standing across from you in the crowded living room of your mutual friend’s house. Each weekend, the same ritual brings you back here, whenever Taehyung’s parents head off for one of their rich-people, luxurious trips. The space is familiar, a backdrop to countless parties, all too often ending in someone’s drunken confessions and stolen kisses that’d become the talk of campus until the next party came around.

As tradition would want, with the clock ticking its way past midnight, you’d be drunk out of your mind already. Tonight, however, you’re not even sure you want to be here.

Namjoon is keeping close tabs on your drinks, monitoring each glass you reach for, and you know he means well; ordinarily, you’d find it sweet, endearing even. But it only seems to heighten your anxiety now. It just reminds you of how out of place this whole thing feels. You want to drown your awkwardness in a wave of liquid courage, and the irony isn’t lost on you: the very reason why you’re nervous is keeping you from numbing it.

Namjoon makes you way too aware of yourself. You wish your first proper hang out wasn’t at a filthy frat party, the blasting music causing you both to lean into each other to make conversation. The proximity makes your palms disgustingly clammy, and you hope he doesn’t reach for your hand.

You also think this isn’t the type of scenario that best suits Namjoon. You would have loved to be with him somewhere softer, with less noise and more light, talking over coffee instead of loud techno, his poetic speech lulling you into infatuation. Maybe then, this would have gone like you had imagined it might. Like you wanted it to go, just to prove something to yourself. You’re still not sure what exactly.

But this house — this party — is a natural habitat for people like Jeongguk. It’s a playground he navigates with ease, his charisma amplified by the darkened rooms and faint cigarette smoke that seems to follow him, just like everyone around him. They exist solely to orbit his mood.

It’s as he saunters back inside after yet another smoke break that you spot him again, his focus entirely on whatever girl is currently at his side. With Namjoon leaving to grab a drink for the two of you to share, you take the short moment to be a shameless creep and study your friend’s movements from the other side of the room.

You can’t help but feel a sting of irritation. Jeongguk is fully aware you’re here. You’d texted him earlier, just something casual to say you’d arrived, maybe even expecting him to meet you or give you a quick wave. Instead, there’d been no reply.

Just like the TikToks you’d sent last night, after you told him you wouldn’t be staying over at his, that also went ignored. You didn’t think too much of it, figured it was probably one of his petty acts. You aren’t any better: it’s not like you’ll go up to him to say hi, not after he ignored you. Those videos were funny, too. He’s the one missing out.

But now, your eyes squinted to try and get the best possible view on each detail of the scene in front of you, what you notice is nothing about him and everything about who he’s currently spending the time he could have used to acknowledge you with.

It’s not just whatever girl. It’s Haeun.

You haven’t seen them hanging out together in what feels like months, and frankly, you’re thrown. Maybe that’s also the reason why he suddenly had no time for you. You scoff.

You’re just confused, really. Jeongguk didn’t mention a thing about her, and it’s not like he’s ever kept his hookups or flings a secret. But Haeun was never just that. She was the one he seemed almost ready to get in his first serious relationship with, the one girl you thought could make him forget all about his usual habits.

When Jeongguk had first started hanging out with Haeun, he’d seemed uncharacteristically interested. You naturally found yourself rooting for him, hoping he’d take a leap and start something real after many failed attempts.

At that point, your casual arrangement with him had been going on for a while, but you knew it wasn’t built to last. You’d expected it to end sooner rather than later, and you were okay with that. You just wanted him to be happy with himself and his choices.

But on the night he was supposed to take Haeun out on a date, the one that could have changed everything, it’s like a magic vacuum turned on and sucked all his progress away. He’d shown up in front of your door instead. No explanations, no details about what had happened; he didn’t want to talk. He only wanted to be near you and sink into silence.

That night you laid next to him, his head on you, hair sprawled out on your stomach, and said absolutely nothing.

Since then, he hadn’t mentioned Haeun at all, and you’d assumed it was over. The right side of your brain was irrationally glad for that, greedily geeking at the prospect of still getting to keep Jeongguk close in ways that go over a simple friendship. In ways that have you thanking God for not taking your friend’s sex skills away from you; in ways that have your nose scrunching whenever he leaves small, delicate pecks on the side of your neck as you watch a movie cuddled in his embrace. If he had decided to go on that date, you would be denied all of this luxury.

The left side of your brain is a little less greedy, a little more rational. The half of your mind responsible for keeping some logic instilled in you even thought it could have been a good thing for Jeongguk to experience a different side of relationships.

You’ve always sensed there to be deeper reasons beneath Jeongguk’s carefree front. You’ve watched him jump from girl to girl, dip in and out of flings with seemingly no thought, as if he’s not trying to bury issues he should find a different answer for, to avoid whatever insecurities he’s run too far away from to face.

He’s never had to spell it out for you. You never pressed him on the topic either. And you think he’s grateful for it, for your silence that offers him the stability he won’t admit he needs, for simply staying and understanding. For allowing him to be vulnerable.

You wish you could give him more than that quiet comfort. Wonder if you should try your luck and push him to see that he does deserve something real— more than the distractions he uses to keep his fears at bay.

Jeongguk would make an incredible boyfriend. He always spots the small details, the slight changes in your mood, and he picks them up before you can even notice yourself, caring in a silent way that doesn't go unnoticed. Not by you.

It’s easy to imagine him being the kind of partner who’d cater to his girl’s needs effortlessly, even in quiet, even if hidden. You know he could be that person if he could just let anyone in beyond sex. When he’ll find the one, it’ll be clear it’s all he was made for.

Right now though, if anyone were to ask you that, you’d advise them to just go and look for another one, because he’s a little, lying piece of shit. You’re just a tad bit upset about it, if your crossed arms and furrowed brows are anything to go by.

You don’t understand why he’s now there, standing next to the girl he himself stood up, the one he looked ready to fix everything for, and then wasn’t. Leaning in close as if nothing had ever happened.

Why couldn’t he tell you, at least give you a heads-up if he was reconnecting with her? You know it shouldn’t bother you as much as it does, but the fact that he’s hiding it stings. Are you overthinking this?

When he lifts his head from her ear and scans the room, his eyes landing right on yours for a brief second just to look away, you don’t think you are. His attention shifts back to Haeun as if he hadn’t seen you at all. What the fuck?

You question what’s the point of having eyes to see when you are now forced to witness Jeongguk leaving the room with Haeun hanging her draggy weight on his arm, his smile cockish as he helps her up by her waist, fingers digging dangerously close to the curve of her perfectly shaped peach.

Their chemistry is undeniable, hands finding skin with unpracticed ease. It must be the way Jeongguk can effortlessly work his charm with any girl he deems attractive enough to fuck, his smirk and the way he lets his nose scrunch almost timidly, as if you can’t see right through him, making women potty in his sculpted hands.

The prospect of your best friend getting laid by the girl he was almost ready to change it all for should make you happy. Smile, at least.

Instead, you frown, mindlessly taking long sips from the straw in your glass and letting it stir your too watered-down cocktail that lacks any real flavor. You don’t even try to find answers as to how another drink landed right on the counter you rest your back on, but you’re glad for it.

You’re more upset at the fact that he decided not to tell you anything. You would have helped him through it, supported him, advised him on what to do, how to move in such a situation. But even if he didn’t need any of this, you would have appreciated just knowing. From him.

The ways in which the two of you are intertwined right at this moment don’t exactly allow him to completely leave you unaware of his actions. It’s not fair.

But then, are you even supposed to feel like this in the first place? Is only sex supposed to have this impact on you? Is even the smallest cell in his brain producing a thought that might take him back to you, and could it compare to a third of what you think and feel?

Does he not get that tingly sensation with you, ‘cause he’s used to it? ‘Cause you’re nothing too different nor special from all the choice he has laid at his feet, nothing out of the usual routine?

A gentle hand on your arm jolts you out of your thoughts. The touch is delicate, but the way it pulls you from your spiral is rough, making you stumble on the already wobbly stool you’re sitting on. When you look to your side, Namjoon meets you with a warm smile.

You hadn’t even noticed him being back next to you, and you figure that’s probably how that drink found its way in your hands. You’re a deer caught in headlights as you look at him, then down at the almost empty glass, then back at the boy. Your eyes widen impossibly more, and you struggle with finding a louder volume to your voice, almost fading with the music, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to finish this all by myself.”

You remember him saying he’d get a drink for the two of you to share before leaving you with your haunting thoughts. He just laughs in a way that should soothe your nerves, but it doesn’t, “It’s okay. You look like you needed it. I’m getting another one for me and catching up with some of my friends over there. I’ll be back in a bit, alright?”

“Yeah, totally. No problem,” your words roll out your tongue in a slurred hurry, face already turning to the opposite side of the room, and you’re not even sure what you’re agreeing on. You just feel Namjoon slip away from the seat next to yours again.

The brief interaction was enough for Jeongguk to have time to completely disappear from your strict observing, and just like the boy who should have had your undivided attention tonight, he equally slips away. From your vision, from the party. And from you. He’s with Haeun now, after all. And you’re alone.

Being truthful, Jeongguk is once again slipping away from his problems only. He doesn’t know how he ended up with Haeun by his side, but when he found your big, confused eyes in the midst of what should have been his escape for the night, he thinks he could name a few reasons.

It’s suffocating, the grip you have on him. He can almost feel one of your slim, delicate hands around his throat. He’s a dirty little sadist, of course he enjoys the pain. But he shouldn’t, so he runs from it until his back hits the wall, and the hold only gets tighter.

There’s nothing to do but face the truth. And you’re in front of him, eyes lost and inviting him to tell you. What should be easy for him to say, what he owes you. But the words get stuck in his throat, right where you’re pressing, and he feels like he might stop breathing.

He could die like this, with your narrowed orbs pitying him, and he badly wishes you would call him a coward. The hold is just enough to hurt him, not to make him lose his senses; if anything, it only makes his head spin around the one thought he wants to avoid. You.

With the quickest distraction he could get his hands on, he keeps adding to it: Haeun clinging to his side, he steps out the packed room to light the nth cigarette, the smoke clouding his vision and making the image of you fade from behind his eyelids. You release your hand from him and disappear. He almost whines. He misses you already. But the faint ache is a reminder.

Instead, in front of him is the only girl he should have truly avoided. Haeun is another reminder. Not because she looks similar to you, you’re way prettier. You’re beautiful.

No, it’s just because he remembers Haeun being his first victim, using her to bury something stronger growing inside him. But it didn’t work then, and it doesn’t work now.

She’s the only girl he tried his luck with to avoid his now unavoidable feelings for you. Then, he physically couldn’t touch another woman beside you. So he started flirting with more cigarettes and alcohol. Maybe some joints then and there.

Jeongguk would love to know why he prefers destroying himself rather than just be the confident man he lets everyone else think he is, go up to you and be honest, like you make it so easy for him to be. The fact that it almost slipped out of him more than a couple times scares him.

It shouldn’t. He wants to fall into that soothing caress, but could he even handle the possibility of you simply, and rightfully if you deemed it the correct choice, rejecting him?

The answer is no. He can’t afford losing your touch on him, your lashes fluttering when you look up at him, your fingers tracing secret maps on his back. He wonders if you’re outlining the safest ways for him to escape from the maze he himself created, of which he forgot the exit to.

With Haeun pressing herself to his side, he thinks he’d rather stay trapped there at this point. A maze built by lies, letting you believe he’s fucking other girls on the side when he feels sickened just by the thought of it, his hand now coming up to push the girl back to a safe distance. Built by insecurities, preferring having you think that you’re simply one of the many he has when he firmly believes you’re the only one that the universe has especially assigned him to.

It’s making him lose his mind, while you live unaware, free from the truth. He’s sure in the stretch that went from yesterday, when you told him about your fucking partner, and tonight, seeing you so close to said partner’s face, your dress custom-made by the hands of every angel populating heaven, Jeongguk developed some kind of clinical illness. The flame of jealousy in his toned tummy has eaten him whole.

And he feels slightly ashamed of himself knowing this is how he found himself circling back to his first poor attempt at running away from you, in the form of a short girl, her eyes now questioning him just like yours had done earlier. Haeun furrows her brows, “Are you seriously doing this again?”

Jeongguk sighs, glancing away to take a long drag from his cigarette that fills his lungs and almost aches. He avoids the eye contact that would be needed for a conversation like the one he’s forced to have — one that wouldn’t have occured in the first place if he could just be a normal person — instead he looks back to the room through the glass doors, “I’m sorry, Hae. I— I can’t do this—“

“Yo, Gguk. You need to come with me now. ___ is throwing up in the bathroom.”

It’s Taehyung sliding the glass door open with more force than what he usually puts, and right now nobody would tell he’s the same one always advising his friends to be delicate with it. The look on his face is panicked and it quickly reflects in Jeongguk’s eyes, flickering between his friend and Haeun.

Next, his reflexes are quicker. He steps inside the house, skipping past Taehyung and the flood of college students dancing their Friday away to Usher and seemingly not caring about the urgency written all over his expression.

He makes it to the bathroom where people have started to crowd around as if lining up to an unmissable show, and he doesn’t care if his pushes are too rough as he makes his way through.

You’re quite literally hugging the toilet, your face one with the lid as a few girls try and help you with your hair. The moment they see Jeongguk, it’s like they know he’s the one that you need, that he’s finally here and you’re in good hands. He shoots them a quick nod as they step aside and then, he’s immediately crouching next to you, gently gathering your long locks into his fist.

He moves some stray strands behind your ears while you keep letting it all out, and as much as his broad back is enough to hide you from watchful eyes, he can still hear murmurs from onlookers.

It’s as Jeongguk is debating whether he should cuss them out or keep his attention on you that Taehyung comes to promptly clear the crowd, closing the bathroom door behind him only after making sure his friend doesn’t need any more help.

Jeongguk appreciates the gesture, knowing how overwhelmed you can get in these scenarios with too many people around. Although, no matter how calm he appears for your sake, his heart races even as you seem to settle and sit on the tiled floor, your back resting against the cool wall.

You gulp down a few times, squeezing your eyes to try and ground yourself, the way you can feel Jeongguk’s hand hold the side of your leg, his thumb delicately brushing the inside of your thigh, definitely helping.

“Toots,” he whispers, face close to your own, “Hey, doll. You’re okay now, hm? What happened?” His voice is low, slow, almost scared of flowing past his lips.

When you open your eyes he’s directly in front of you, squatting down to stay on your level, and his brows are drawn high in worry.

You sniff, your voice still rough from the scratching on your throat, “Fucking— Jimin. I met him in the kitchen and we mixed too much shit together—“

“Weren’t you with Kim Namjoon?” Jeongguk interrupts you, both his tone and the way his eyebrows now dip inquisitive.

You shrug, looking down at your fingers fidgeting, “Dunno. Why the fuck am I still not sober,” the way you tone the question doesn’t make it sound like one, and you end up giggling at yourself, hiccuping in the process.

Jeongguk sighs, unconsciously tightening his hold around your leg, his fingers digging and making you whimper subtly. He notices, soothing the skin only to take both his hands to scoop you up by your armpits, lifting both your bodies on your feet.

You yelp, throwing your weight on him with another one of your senseless chuckles, looking up at his bothered face through your lashes. He straightens your posture with wide palms on your waist, throwing one of your arms around his shoulders and causing you to step out of the small room on your tiptoes. He grumbles, “I’m taking you back to the dorm now. And we’ll talk about this tomorrow.”

“Talk about what?”

“Namjoon.”

You stay quiet as the both of you, your body snug against his, walk through the party and out the house to reach Jeongguk’s car. Your thoughts are sluggish, failing to grasp why he’d even want to talk about Namjoon. Isn’t he just a nice guy? You’re more concerned with Jeongguk’s seemingly irked tone and the distressed way his tongue pokes the inside of his cheek.

A soft, involuntary whine escapes you when you think you might be the reason for that, shuffling yourself closer into his warmth, but the contact is brief as he gently settles you into the passenger seat and clicks the belt, then he closes your door and circles the car to the driver’s side.

Awkward. The only sound that can be heard is the soft hum of the engine, beside the fuzzy buzz in your ears. You feel laughter bubbling up in your chest but you hold it there, turning to study Jeongguk’s side profile. Inhaling, you start, “Can you— can I put on—”

“No.”

Your smile falters, “What? C’mon, give me the aux.”

“The last thing I want right now is to listen to those songs.”

Any previous tipsy instinct that made you want to laugh at the situation fade with his words and the way his grip on the steering wheel says more than what he’s letting on. You’re hazy, but his clenched jaw and laser focus on the road make you sit up straighter, adjusting your slouched posture and the skirt of your dress with it, pulling it further down your thighs.

The tension coming off him feels so heavy that it leads to irrational, childish tears pricking your eyes, and you sound defeated when you whisper, “Are you mad at me?”

He brakes a little too hard at the red light, and you both lurch slightly forward. Jeongguk seems to realize just now that he’s unfairly taking his anger out on you, and the way you let out the question in the smallest voice makes his heart speed up, turning to you with apprehension, “No, toots. No, why would I be? I’m mad at that fucker.”

“He was just talking with some of his—”

“He left you alone. He was supposed to take care of you. Not let you get fucking wasted.”

Jeongguk sounds final, his tone allowing no more condoning nor excuses for the tall guy now left behind you, back at the party. But you don’t seem to focus too much on the meaning of his words, rather you bask in the consequences of them. He’s not upset with you!

That spurs you to contradict him further, this time on the accusation he threw at you, but it’s less than credible when you say it through a sheepish smile that unconsciously made its way on your lips at the protective edge to his tone, “I’m not fucking wasted.”

Jeongguk only sighs, but you can see him visibly relax, shoulders going down and leaning against the back of his seat, right hand coming to pat your bare knee with a small smile on his pierced lips.

You share a look that fully sobers you up only to get you high all over again off his doe eyes, the artificial lights dotting a universe of their own in those orbs, undiscovered galaxies and planets inviting you to move there, even with no water, no oxygen, no way of surviving.

When the soft hue of the red light reflecting on the side of your face morphs to green, he moves his attention back on the road, taking his hand with it to shift gears. Then, he concedes, “Put on the playlist.”

You blink, a little taken aback by his sudden shift in mood, but just as quickly you recover. Your brain seems to be able to focus on one thing at a time either way, so you don’t ponder on your insides collectively moving at the way he looked at you and instead reach for the aux cord, fingers tapping on your phone screen absentmindedly, with a conscience of their own.

Music interrupts the quiet, and you can’t help but join, “The night we met I knew I, needed you so. And if I had the chance I’d, never let you go. Sing with me!”

Jeongguk breaks into a grin, no matter how much he fights it, “You’re so fucking wasted.”

“So won’t you say you love me? I’ll make you so proud of me. We’ll make ‘em turn their heads every place we go, so won’t you please,” Be My Baby by The Ronettes fills the previous silent tension, which you seemingly already forgot everything about, using Jeongguk’s free hand as your own personal microphone, folding it in a fist between your palms.

Jeongguk would never say it out loud, especially now, after he only pretended he had to be begged to put it on, that he’s actually grown attached to this playlist. Started as a little mishap and turned into something that got under his skin, much like you have.

Its creation came about from a comically embarrassing moment that gave you ammunition to tease him for weeks. Although, he’s glad for it when he reflects deep enough: the whole episode helped shape the bond between you two, adding to its foundation.

He still doesn’t know how you managed to slip so sneakily into his dorm that evening, but what’s sure is that he wasn’t expecting you, taking the time of his life in his bathroom, fresh out of the shower. Simply following his usual routine, one that you wouldn’t have exactly considered usual since you only ever knew him as an avid Drake listener, he hummed along to Elvis Presley’s Can’t Help Falling in Love flowing softly from his phone speaker.

It wasn’t just that, of course, because then he started styling his wet hair in an exaggerated pompadour and fully got into character, strutting dramatic poses in front of the mirror and even practicing Elvis’s iconic curl of the lip. If his soul was by any chance watching over the scene, you’d hoped he’d agree with you that Jeongguk was truly giving Austin Butler a run for his money.

The private show sadly ended when he caught sight of you in the foggy glass, your lips sealed shut to try and hold your delighted laughter, but it got ripped out of you in the form of an obnoxious snort the moment his eyes went wide in horror and his face crimson in shame.

It was hell for a few weeks after that. You didn’t let him off so easily, teasing him for being a secret softie with a love for old-school romance under all the layers of his tough fuckboy image that only ever seemed to handle trappy beats.

When you jokingly suggested he might as well get fully into the act and start calling you toots or something, he didn’t back down from the tease, scoffing at you with narrowed eyes. Somewhere along the way, the dry, sardonic tone with which he first used that pet name on you stuck, and it became less of a joke, more of an endearing way to refer to you, and only you.

Before either of you could second-guess it, the playlist was born. You two crafted it together in fits of laughter and late-night texts, with Jeongguk suggesting songs from his secret stash and you contributing the ones you grew up on.

It quickly became the soundtrack to many of your aimless car rides, something that neither of you acknowledged outright but silently cherished. Sometimes, you’d get so carried away and slip into the roles of a ‘60s couple, playfully reciting cheesy lines back and forth.

No matter how much Jeongguk pretends he hates it to save what’s left of his bad boy reputation, he really doesn’t. Not even a little bit. Even the way he rolls his eyes and groans isn’t enough to hide the spark in his eyes when you sing along.

He feels worse than a pubescent teenager when he lets his guard slip to hear you hum words he can only imagine are just for him, meant in the way he wants. You swing side by side and smile up at him with dimples digging long slits into your cheeks, and he has to act as if it makes him feel completely normal and not like he’s going to crash his car any second.

Each lyric that spills from your mouth feels like it’s tying him down, even with your sweet voice a little unsteady, thanks to whatever is still left from the night’s drinks. You’re so not aware of what it does to him.

Your eyes are on the road, but Jeongguk’s linger on you, his fingers unconsciously tapping the steering wheel to the tune.

“I’d save every day like a treasure, and then, again, I would spend them with you.”

Jeongguk purposefully veers off onto streets he doesn’t need to take, buying himself a few extra minutes with you, but you don’t notice and he pretends to not know either. Would never admit it’s because he wants to hear you sing a little more, and that this ongoing joke between the two of you might be his favorite thing in the whole world.

“But there never seems to be enough time to do the things you want to do once you find them. Hold on, this one’s a little lower. I’ll find my note, wait,” you’re mostly talking to yourself, cheek pressed to the cool glass of the window, but you glance at Jeongguk as if seeking for approval, clearing your throat, “I’ve looked around enough to know that you’re the one I want to go through time with.”

Just as Time in a Bottle by Jim Croce fades out, Jeongguk pulls into the campus parking lot, turning the engine off and cutting the music with it. None of you move right away, accepting the stillness in the car.

You don’t accept the silence, though, letting your mind speak a thought that has been nagging at you, “Can you fuck me here? Right now?”

The way you voice the request would make anybody who didn’t understand English think you’d just asked for something as mundane as a glass of water, your eyes unfaltering, a small smile on your waiting lips, voice barely slicing through the quiet. It’s almost as if you don’t know it’s the kind of thing that could derail Jeongguk’s entire thought process.

Jeongguk lightly chokes on his own breath, giving a few coughs before turning to you, his tattooed hand messing his hair further, “Jesus Christ, ___. You know I can’t.”

You tilt your head, considering him, as if this is a serious debate rather than drunken rambling, “Why not?”

Jeongguk can only sigh. He takes in your disheveled state and notices the way your exposed skin prickles with the cold, reaching for the leather jacket he carelessly threw on the backseats before heading to the party, having had no idea you’d be the one wearing it by the end of the night.

He wraps it gently around your shoulders, moving sticky, stray strands of hair from your face, “You’re so drunk. Look at you.”

“I told you I’m not,” you protest weakly, but your confidence falters when his fingers ghost over your face.

“There’s vomit in your hair,” he shuts you bluntly, tone softer than the honest words.

“Oh,” your stubbornness doesn’t work this time, and you’re mortified as you glance down at your lap, where his fingers fall to mindlessly play with the zip of his bomber jacket, brushing your tummy in the process. Your voice doesn’t sound so sure now, especially when each subtle graze sends small shocks through you, “That’s disgusting.”

The soft chuckle he lets out has you stealing a look upward, and when you catch his expression your slowed down brain can only come to the conclusion that maybe he doesn’t find you all that disgusting: he sports a rare, wide curve of his bunny smile, eyes crinkling when that same fondness finds its way onto your lips. You can’t help what they do next, a mind of their own as you rest them on his own mouth, the tip of his nose tickling your cheek.

It’s the faintest of kisses, and it’s delicate, fleeting, over far too soon, but you’re the one to pull back first no matter how much longer you need it to be, “That was probably disgusting too.”

As you rest your back on the seat again, his eyes are still closed, and they flutter open as slowly as a smile stretches on his mouth when he meets you. You’re giving him a look he doesn’t deserve, one he shouldn’t lean into.

His voice is a whisper, and it fans over your face, still close to his, “Not at all.”

Gleaming eyes scan every angle of you, as if trying to find anything that’ll hold him back from what he really wants to do. But, of course, his need only grows when he lets his gaze wander down, then up again.

He glances to the side with a gulp, moving his body back to reach for the car door handle, “You think you can walk or should I carry you?”

“Carry me, please,” you mumble, not even pondering on the first option, and the moment the sound leaves your lips he’s out and reaching for your side, opening your door and scooping you up like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

The walk to his dorm is a blur, with you dozing off in his warmth and being lulled by the hums escaping him and reverberating through his chest, melodies of the earlier songs playing against your ear.

You regain awareness when a splash of warm water cascades over your now naked body, the sensation startling enough to make your lashes flutter against your damp cheeks. The water runs over your face, washing away the remnants of the night, the drowsy yet oddly light sensation taking over you causing a giggle to echo against the walls.

You’re still too disoriented to process the tenderness with which Jeongguk’s hand moves, brushing through your soaked strands of hair and moving them from where they flattened on your face, combing through the sticky locks.

With half-open eyes, you’re met with the sight of him in front of you, standing close enough without needing to step into the small space with you, his brows furrowed as he works the shampoo through your hair. It’s a soothing, slow motion, the one he massages your scalp with, and it only melts you further into sweet slumber.

If it weren’t for one of his hands resting tightly on your hip, grounding you as the scent of the shampoo mingles with the steam curling around you, you would have gladly swayed into his palm, letting your weak body fall into his strong one.

You sniff, leaning into his care, voice small and oddly sincere, “I’m sorry for,” hiccup, “taking you away from Haeun. You two seem close again.”

Jeongguk stills for a moment, his fingers pausing in your hair before resuming their soft motions. He pretends he didn’t hear, and you pretend you never talked in the first place when he guides you to steady yourself as your knees wobble, “Hey, stand still. You’ll get shampoo in your eyes. Close them.”

You obey, letting your eyelids drop shut as you feel his hand gently tilt your head under the spray, his touch as tender as the words he isn’t saying.

If you weren’t a victim of both sleepiness and alcohol at this very moment, your thoughts would be racing each other like eager contenders in the Overthinker Marathon, each one fighting tooth and nail for the gold medal. They’d be dissecting every little detail of the night— the way Jeongguk had ignored you, his lingering hand on Haeun’s waist, only to be there the second you needed him, the girl from earlier not even worth mentioning.

Instead, your every thinking cell has taken a rare vacation, lounging together on an imaginary green field, clinking glasses filled with leftover cocktails from earlier, lazily watching clouds drift by.

Although there’s one cell in particular, too tipsy to sit still. It hops around gleefully, urging your lips to move before the Thinking Cell General can intervene. The way it jumps up and down, up and down, makes you giggle as you blurt out, “I don’t know if it’s the water, but I’m very wet.”

The silence that follows is thick, punctuated only by the sound of water cascading down your back. Jeongguk freezes as if the words have physically reached out and yanked him into stunned stillness. He can only let his throat bob in a visible swallow and look away, warning you in a strained mutter, “___. This is your last warning. Stop teasing me.”

You whine, pathetically wiggling your weak and pliant body in his hold to seek for some kind of reaction, but he doesn’t budge. He’s uncharacteristically focused on his tasks, ensuring every trace of shampoo rinses from your hair, rather than your hardened nipples bouncing with your stubborn movements.

But you recognise the way his jaw clenches so tight it must hurt, how he refuses to let his gaze wander lower where the steam of water outlines your form. His restraint is razor-thin, yet he holds it tightly, breathing only slightly uneven.

You’re not deterred by his warning; you never are. It’s the tiny tracks in his resolve that keep you pressing forward, voice laced with a vulnerability that makes his hand twitch against your scalp, “Just… I just need your fingers. Please.”

Jeongguk exhales sharply through his nose, but he doesn’t answer. Instead, he angles the spray to wash the last suds away, hyper-focused on the practical task as though it’s a lifeline to his dwindling self-control.

But you’re persistent. You reach behind you, fingers messily finding the knob to twist the water off, and with the spray halting you’re left only with the hum of the bathroom fan and the faint drip of water.

Your other hand finds his, guiding his wide palm to rest on your lower stomach, just above where your want is written in every inch of your body. You whisper, plead clear in your tone, ”You know I want this. Won’t ever regret it. I’m conscious enough to be sure of that.”

Jeongguk huffs, his chest rising and falling as he stares down at you, fingers flexing slightly against your skin. He closes his eyes for a moment, inhaling deeply as if accepting defeat. He can’t win this battle.

The brown-haired boy steps into the shower, the small space shrinking even further with the addition of his broader frame, forcing you to back up against the wall. Fully dressed, water clings to his fabric, and the contrast of his damp clothes against your bare, exposed skin makes you irrationally wetter.

Jeongguk keeps silent, and at this point you don’t care how desperate you look, pushing yourself against him and getting his clothes wetter in the process. It pushes him to initiate a torturous path along your skin, using his middle finger to trace a journey from your chest, savoring the way your breath hitches, down to your warm core.

The droplets of water he collects on the way are used to spread your puffy lips and press right on your sensitive nub, making you gasp. You’re a trembling mess from the simple motion, and he has to use his free hand to steady you against the wall.

Your breasts aren’t left without being taken care of, because the moment he begins circling motions on your clit that have you seeing stars, he lowers his head to envelop one of your tits in his ravenous mouth, teeth teasing it punitively, all while looking up at you with sliced, sinful eyes.

He’s greedy, and you can’t believe he managed to hide it so well until now. But his resolve crumbles the more he revels in the way you fall apart for him, and he loses control on your chest. The sensation is sharp, delicious, and the contrast between the harshness of his bite and the softness of his tongue has you whimpering.

You’re ashamedly aware of how close you already are, his digits picking a fast speed that urges you to let go and coat him in your juices. He knows, simply from the way you let your mouth fall agape and release loud moans in the steamy air, pushing your nipples further in his swollen lips.

When he inserts one finger in your warm hole, you jolt in his secure hold, eyebrows shot upwards in the shock of your sudden orgasm, one that hits you all too harshly. It drags on deliciously, Jeongguk never wanting it to end, the slurping sound of his sucking on your tits making your surrounding spin, along with his thumb accompanying the way his single digits thrusts into you.

He only stops when you unconsciously run from his doings, slim hand wrapping weakly around his wrist, and he retreats with one last wet stripe along the curve of your boob, promptly collecting your taste from his fingers, and he thoroughly hums around them, eyes closed and cheeks hollowed.

You think you could come again from the sight alone. Panting, you smile through your ragged breaths, “Fuck. Thanks.”

Five minutes later, no one would bet you’re the same girl that begged him for his fingers and came in record time around them. Now, you sit serenely on the toilet lid, wrapped up in Jeongguk’s warmest hoodie. The oversized fabric swallows your frame, knees tucked under it as you hug them close to your chest. You look as innocent as ever.

Jeongguk stands in front of you, meticulously brushing through your damp hair with practiced gentleness, each stroke of the comb a soothing lullaby. You rest your chin lazily on your folded arms, eyes closed, the edges of sleep blurring your thoughts.

You let out a contented sigh before murmuring, words unfiltered, “You’d make the perfect boyfriend. You always take care of me. And kiss me when I need it.”

The motions of the brush stop for a fraction of a second before resuming, and what you hear next is Jeongguk’s throat clearing, his voice low and almost shaky, “That sounds so very wrong, toots.”

“What do you mean?” You don’t open your eyes as you ask the question, the warmth of his presence and the excuse of the last traces of alcohol still flowing in your tired body making you bolder than usual.

“You want me to be your boyfriend?”

“In another life, maybe. Yes,” you don’t waste time replying, words carrying a dreamy quality, “I mean, would be cool.”

“Cool?” He chuckles, but it’s the kind that’s half-exasperation and half-something else entirely, voice strained with an edge of desperation too, “God, I don’t even know why I’m still putting up with you.”

You only nuzzle closer into the borrowed hoodie, giving voice to your next thought, your thinking cells now hosting a 60s themed party, “Be my, be my baby. My one and only baby.”

The sound of your singing fades under the whirring roar of the hairdryer, and Jeongguk is quietly thankful for the way it drowns your sweet hums completely, fearing if he hears another one of those tipsy love confessions leaving your lips he might drop to his knees, undone by something he knows he can’t claim.

You rest your head against his stomach, full weight leaning on his standing figure, his long digits pulling through your strands. If you’d look up at your best friend for even one fleeting second, you’d probably laugh at the concentration on his expression, his only goal drying your hair enough to not have you waking up with a headache the following day.

You sniffle and snuggle impossibly closer to him, the heat radiating from his tummy and the white noise lulling you further into drowsiness, every careful motion of his hand coaxing you closer to sleep.

When your phone pings from the bathroom counter, the sudden buzz makes you jolt slightly. You lift your head sluggishly and gesture toward the phone, mouthing up to Jeongguk, “Pass it.”

He hands it to you without turning off the hairdryer, keeping an eye on your sleepy movements. You blink at the bright light for a moment before your expression shifts, eyes widening.

You’re completely jolted awake at the only notification on your home screen: it's Namjoon.

You tap Jeongguk’s stomach with the heel of your hand— softly at first, then with increasing urgency. The repeated motion forces him to stop the device and place it on the counter as he looks down at you, trying to peek at the screen, “What?”

You hiccup and sniff before blurting out, “Namjoon. He texted me”

The boy that was just now carefully drying your hair scoffs, arms crossed over his chest, “What does that asshole want?”

The response to the rhetorical question doesn’t come, either because you decide to ignore it purposefully or unconsciously: you look totally engulfed by the words on your otherwise empty chat with Namjoon, and Jeongguk can’t help but subtly lean his body lower to read the same texts you’re going through.

Kim Namjoon [4:26 a.m.]: Hey. Sorry for texting late, I heard from someone you threw up back at the party. I’m so sorry. I completely lost sight of you in that mess. Are you feeling any better? Very sorry again.

Kim Namjoon [4:27 a.m.]: It’s totally okay if you don’t want to hear from me again. But I wouldn’t forgive myself if I didn’t at least try to make it up to you.

Kim Namjoon [4:27 a.m.]: I’d really like to take you out on a date. Would you let me?

Jeongguk kisses his teeth irkedly, “Why the fuck does he text like Prince William? Fucking English major,” and he truly tried his best to sound unaffected, but the words leave his mouth before he even knows he’s thinking of them.

Luckily, you don’t seem to notice, reading the message aloud like you can’t quite believe it yourself, “He said he’d like to go on a date with me. Like, he asked me on a date. And said he would like it. To go on a date—”

“Yes, we got it.”

“He doesn’t hate me, Gguk!” Once again, his petty comments go unnoticed as your face lights up, eyes crinkling with joy as you practically beam up at him.

Jeongguk wants to be annoyed, but he simply can’t when he’s met with all the stars in the universe right in your glossy, tired eyes. He swallows hard and forces a soft chuckle, “No, he doesn’t, toots. Anyone would be crazy to hate you.”

The grin on your lips only widens, nose scrunching adorably as you let your cheek sheepishly brush against your shoulder, “Oh my god, Gguk. I’m going on a date with him! Heh.”

“That’s nice,” he says, picking up the hairdryer again before your words can settle too heavily in the space between you. “I’m not finished with your hair, though. Stay still.”

The device roars to life once more, its noise filling the room and covering your excited giggles. Jeongguk keeps brushing through your hair with steady motions, his face impassive, but he feels something tighten, heavy and unyielding in his chest.

He tells himself the noise is a blessing, a shield from the silence he wouldn’t know how else to fill—or from the sound of his own voice, betraying him in ways he can’t afford.

────୨ৎ────

“I’ll miss the sex when Namjoon will ask me to be his girlfriend.”

In the quiet of the library, your sudden whisper startles Jeongguk. The chair screeches under him and it gains the both of you a few annoyed looks. He nods in apology at their way, moving closer to the table again, and he has to blink a few times before he can even meet your eyes. The scattered pens all over the white surface looked more interesting either way.

“When he— his— what?” He feels pathetic for being unable to even form a senseful sentence, but there’s no absolute way he blames his brain for that. It’s his heart, stuttering along with the barely intelligible question.

It cracks at the middle the more your grin splits your face in half, nose scrunching adorably, and he may be a horrible friend but he can’t bring himself to return your irony, nor the masked excitement under it.

If he were handed pen and paper and asked to write about how he feels right at this moment, he wouldn’t put down a single thing. Not because there isn’t anything to say. He fears your innocent teasing has done something catastrophic, snapping that one damned string that connected his brain to his heart, and the two aren’t communicating. Jeongguk is in the middle of two angered parents, fighting and on the brink of divorce. That’s what he gets for being a total pussy.

You shrug, frowning slightly when all you’re faced with is his blank expression, eyes unresponsive and detachedly looking elsewhere, but you keep yours on him, studying even the small movements, “I mean, he’s a nice guy. I think he’s serious about getting to know me.”

The word serious causes an involuntary twitch of his head, tilting almost imperceptibly to the side, and he sounds way too defensive, “And are you?”

Furrowing your eyebrows at his unexpected reaction, you return to your previous mindless doodling, keeping your voice low, “Well, he’s cute. Let’s see where this thing goes.”

“What about me?”

The question catches the both of you off guard. Your pencil halts as you glance at him through the corner of your eye, and even if you can’t see him clearly, the way his dark orbs widen is almost comical that you would laugh in any other situation. But now, the air is oddly tense and it makes your nose scrunch in awkwardness.

He breaks it with a chuckle, a subtle tremor in it that luckily goes unnoticed by you but that will probably keep him up at night for the next five years, and he lightly shoves your shoulder in an effort at feigning ease, “You really wanna pass on this dick?”

“God, you’re gross,” the annoyed roll of your eyes has Jeongguk releasing a breath he didn’t realize he was holding; it’s odd, but that’s just who he is.

The second you return to weightless banter, he’s back in his element. He can smirk, tease and deflect— these are tools he’s mastered over the months. But the thought of stripping naked for your eyes to see, and not in the sexual way you two engage in almost every night, terrifies him.

The waters are safe for what seems a fraction of a second before you pull him down in the deep, dark seas again, this dynamic between you foreign. While it is a simple, innocent question, your deceptive tone triggers unfamiliarity within him, “Besides, how’s it going with you and Haeun?”

“Huh? Oh. Haeun, yes,” his attempt at buying himself extra time is laughable, especially when Mr. Brain is now yelling at Ms. Heart for always wanting to get in the way of things he can handle alone, “Wonderfully. We— She— Huh, kissed me.”

Ms. Heart is furious. She has no other choice but to reach in her purse and slap the divorce papers on the dinner table, the glasses clinking against the plates, and Jeongguk flinches. Brain is speechless, clueless on how to react.

You only seem slightly taken aback, eyebrows raising in mild surprise, “Really? That’s nice.”

Jeongguk is equally clueless, subtly squeezing his eyes shut as if hoping to wake up somewhere else entirely, maybe in an ideal world where Kim Namjoon doesn’t exist and Mr. Brain and Ms. Heart are happily married.

Instead, he’s still in the library, and you’re still sitting next to him, scribbling on your English textbook. He frowns, getting pitiably lost in the view of your side profile, “Yeah, nice. Huh, when’s your date?”

When you glance up at him, you seem to be realizing just how odd it is for the two of you to spend this much time talking about your respective hook ups, and you cringe slightly at the unusual formality, wishing Jeongguk would just tease you like he usually does when you tell him about your untruthful and made up sexual adventures.

You purse your lips in thought, “Tomorrow, actually.”

“Oh. He’s going fast.”

“I like that.”

“I know you do.”

No matter the effort you put into trying to hide your amusement, a snort escapes you, and you quickly look away to recover from the childish grin spreading on your lips. You shake your head, closing the book in front of you, “You’re fucking disgusting.”

Jeongguk only smirks in an oddly proud way, nodding at your flustered state when he realizes he successfully managed yet again to shift the conversation from topics he doesn’t want to hear or talk about. He shrugs, “You just said that.”

“And I’ll say it again.”

“Whatever,” a small chuckle follows the dismissal, his hand coming to brush through his fluffy hair, getting too long for his liking, “I really wanted to see you tomorrow.”

Once again, Jeongguk is way too honest, way too easily. Ms. Heart is marching hastily with Mr. Brain walking close behind, trying to make sense of the situation and pushing her to reconsider her actions, but it’s no use: she’s tired, and sick of being walked over, again and again.

He doesn’t like the underlying meaning behind that, and wishes Mr. Brain would grow a pair and just swoon her back into love again. Jeongguk doesn’t like the genuine surprise etched across your face either, or, well, he doesn’t like the effect it has on him: it’s almost unbearable to accept that the blush dusting your cheeks, the one you’re probably unaware of, is caused by his unfiltered honesty. Because sincere bluntness isn’t exactly something he tries to show. Then, why does it spill out of him uncontrollably? Why— why do you look so beautiful like this?

“Hm,” your smile is small, but your dimple betrays it, Jeongguk’s whole resolve cracking with the way you sound dangerously decisive, “Too bad. You’re late.”

Jeongguk shouldn’t overthink this. You’re simply engaging in the usual dynamic, teasing him like always, no reason for his palms to sweat. He shouldn’t panic over the way nothing about what you said feels simple, nor usual, and your tone carries more than what you both want the words to mean.

He doesn’t know if it’s a warning or a test—or worse, the truth. Maybe he’s imagining it. Maybe Brain just misinterpreted the comment, too distracted by its constant squabble with Heart, both of them ignoring Jeongguk, who is still sitting at the cluttered kitchen table with his plate half-full, surrounded by a mess of inky emotions he doesn’t have the courage to clean up.

The sound of forks clinking against plates grates against his ears, drowning out the hurried excuses spilling from your mouth, the ones you’re babbling and making up along the way of gathering your things and standing up from the round table, shouldering your bag in the same hurry you left his room with before the next time he saw you was nose to nose with Namjoon.

You huff, giving a small, tight lipped smile that should be meaningless, but to Jeongguk it isn’t, “I’ll go now. See you around?”

“Huh, sure. Let me know how it goes with Namsun.”

You roll your eyes at the playful attempt, his grin just as empty, “Right. Bye Gguk.”

You’re off the hallway before he can add anything else. Not that he would have been able to. Your bag swings with your big steps, slim hands coming to absently tug your plaid skirt lower, and Jeongguk thinks and thinks.

He realizes he really doesn’t want to know how your little date goes. Would rather shoot himself rather than hearing you talk about another guy taking you out to dinner, stealing you from him and sealing the end to whatever the two of you have.

His options are narrowed. He either commits in front of you and forever changes the trajectory of your life or does something about Namjoon. But why does the option of ending his life sound much easier than stepping up to big, buff Namjoon, infatuated with the same girl he likes?

Oh.

The admission jolts him. It’s a physical reaction that causes his chair to shriek again under his movements, but this time he’s not polite enough to apologize for it. He must look crazy, wide eyes burning holes into his hands planted steadily on the table in front of him.

The girl he likes. You’re the girl he likes.

And every signal is there. The spark he sought for now lights a nervous feeling in his stomach, its fireworks interrupting Brain and Heart’s incessant arguing.

Does he look stupid not doing anything for the girl he likes? Not fighting for the girl he’s been falling for all this time?

────୨ৎ────

It should be easy. It is easy.

Jeongguk can’t let the sleepless night spent reciting lines to his ceiling go to waste. He’s sure not even theater kids could match his determination. And as he marches across campus toward the gym, where the squeak of sneakers and the echo of grunts will lead him to the person needed to put the plan into action, he reviews step by step what he’s told himself to do. It’s a well-rehearsed script, each word, every calculated expression—he’s gone over it a hundred times, accounting for every reaction.

Step one, be casual. Friendly, even. Approach Namjoon like there’s nothing calculated about this interaction—no ulterior motives, no scheme brewing beneath the surface. Just a casual catch-up between two guys.

“What’s up, Kim,” when Jeongguk spots the slightly taller boy exercising at a steady walking pace on the treadmill, he immediately hops onto the free one beside him.

Namjoon startles slightly, then smiles with those stupid, charming dimples of his, and it’s one that Jeongguk would probably only give if forced, “Hey, Jeongguk. Long time no see.”

The brown-haired boy nods, setting the speed and quickly catching up to Namjoon. He keeps his tone deliberately cool, even borderline disinterested, “You been good?”

On his left, your almost-boyfriend shrugs, jogging along, “Yeah, just studying, man. What about you?”

“Pretty much the same,” he hasn’t cracked open a book in weeks, and that study session from yesterday was just an excuse to be with you. But he can’t afford to let his thoughts linger on you too long or he’ll lose focus. He needs focus. “You catch that last game?”

Step two, pretend to care about what Namjoon is saying and then proceed with the acting skills only to suddenly remember something totally random he wanted to mention.

“Fuck, don’t remind me. I was so sure we would win,” the sweating man sounds way too affected by the recent football match, and Jeongguk fears if he asks one more question for the sake of pretending he’ll never get to the actual point.

So, he goes straight to it, “Yeah, it was rough. Oh, by the way. You know ___, right?”

The simple mention of your name causes a small stutter in Namjoon’s step, but he recovers with the stupid smile from earlier, only this time it’s wider, “Of course I know her. Why do you ask?”

Step three, just be honest. He just has to lay it all out. Be straightforward. Tell him the truth about how he’s felt for so long and what this whole thing with you is doing to him. It’s not a confrontation—it’s a conversation. Jeongguk will politely explain that he’s liked you for a while now, that he’s been in your life long before Namjoon, and, as a courtesy, he’d appreciate it if he would step back from pursuing you.

Civil. Calm. Totally chill. There’s absolutely nothing to get worked up over.

"You really don't know? Have no idea?" Jeongguk asks, his voice dropping, tone more pointed than he intended.

Namjoon slows his treadmill slightly, glancing over with furrowed brows and a faintly amused smile. “No, man. Enlighten me.”

“She’s my fucking girlfriend.”

What. The. Fuck.

That wasn’t the plan. Not even close to the plan.

────୨ৎ────

You feel stupid.

Wrapped around in your warmest coat, you still shiver. It could be the way your legs are exposed under your wool dress, high black boots reaching just beneath your knees. But there’s something else to the chill, making you shake in fading jitters. The excitement of the evening you told yourself you were looking forward to morphs into anxiety, and the passing looks of people mean more than they should as minutes tick and tick; they seem to glance at you for too long, their looks heavy with what you can only imagine is judgment.

A young girl swaddled in small but striking details from head to toe — delicate earrings that catch the light, a scarf knotted perfectly at the neck, polished nails clutching the strap of an expensive-looking bag, hair done up in a neat slicked bun — glancing nervously at her surroundings can only mean one thing: she’s been stood up.

Namjoon was supposed to meet you in front of the cozy cafè just outside the campus, its warm tones and surely even warmer ambience so very inviting. Maybe you’d go in, order a steaming hot chocolate for yourself, and chalk this up as a lesson learned. But instead, you chose to wait outside, shifting on your tiptoes every so often, scanning the crowd for a glimpse of the first man to ask you out in what felt like ages.

You feel as though you’ll be forever destined to wait more when thirty minutes go by and Namjoon is nowhere to be seen.

You frown, swaying on your heels. What you feel is not disappointment— not at first. But that only causes you to feel worse about yourself when you realize you’re almost relieved the tall man hasn’t shown up, and he’s not here to turn fears into even scarier realities. The date would have given a concrete meaning to your actions, and the thought stirs something not exactly pleasant within you.

The scratch at the back of your mind grows harder to ignore, and no matter how much you try to shake it off, your subconscious finds ways back to it when your hand instinctively dives into the depths of the expensive purse you had specially chosen for this occasion. A purse meant to complement your carefully selected dark ensemble— an effort that now feels entirely wasted. You spent so much time getting ready for something you’re not ready for at all.

Pulling out your phone, your thumb scrolls to Jeongguk’s number with a natural automatism, typing before you even register why he’s the first person you feel the need to tell.

You [9:39 p.m.]: hi

You [9:39 p.m.]: namjoon stood me up lol

The typing bubbles appear faster than you anticipated, and as you watch them dance across the screen, you burrow deeper into the fragile warmth of your jacket, the tip of your nose numb from the cold.

sassy queen 💁🏻 [9:40 p.m.]: Whattttttt????

sassy queen 💁🏻 [9:40 p.m.]: He’s such an asshooooooole

Your first instinct is to snort at his reaction, a childish grin tugging at your lips, but it turns into a scowl when the more you reread the text, the more it sounds weird. He usually never texts like a six-year-old using his mom’s iPad.

You [9:40 p.m.]: yes he is

You [9:40 p.m.]: why are u textin so weird btw lol

sassy queen 💁🏻 [9:41 p.m.]: Wym weirddd

sassy queen 💁🏻 [9:41 p.m.]: I’m totally normal

You [9:41 p.m.]: wtv

You [9:42 p.m.]: u still wanna hang out?

sassy queen 💁🏻 [9:42 p.m.]: Yes please

sassy queen 💁🏻 [9:42 p.m.]: Want me to pick u up

sassy queen 💁🏻 [9:42 p.m.]: Where are u rn

The head tilt is unconscious, but you feel it click in place. You’ve mentioned how Jeongguk is caring, how he can read your needs like no one else and caters to them quietly, but he’s never this pliant, this malleable. You like him because it’s hard to get him to bend (and you’d rather die than let Jeongguk know about this).

You [9:43 p.m.]: is ok

You [9:43 p.m.]: i’ll just walk

You [9:43 p.m.]: be there in 10

The walk usually takes you less than 10 minutes, but before meeting him, you decide to head back to your dorm and change out of these stupid fancy clothes you picked out for the date.

You keep your head low as you walk through the hallways, the full glam you put on impossible to miss as it sparkles under the fluorescent lights, just as your boots' heels echo through the corridors.

Taking off the dress and heels feels like peeling away the embarrassment of rejection, the weight of disappointment settling in as you realize you couldn’t prove to yourself that you could do it, that you can do it, take the leap and let something serious into your life.

You question whether you're even cut out for it when the guy who seemed perfect ended up proving the opposite.

Now, back in more comfortable clothes — Jeongguk's black hoodie from the other day and baggy sweatpants — you feel a little more like yourself. Scared of emotions, scared of commitment, no matter how many hours of your day are spent daydreaming about it.

The second you click the door of your room open, it’s like you can smell a weird shift in the air. And you do, literally sniff, scanning your surroundings for any hint of something burning or out of place.

But it’s not about the dorm in its physical state, no— it’s the odd silence that you’re met with, the people you’re used to sharing the space with now uncharacteristically careful with their volume.

“Oh my god, ___,” that is probably why you’re visibly startled by the sudden voice coming from your side, Iseul looking like containing excitement is the hardest task she’s ever been asked to deal with, just like the few other girls behind her, all practically vibrating, “You’re finally here.”

You furrow your brows, chuckling confusedly at the unusuality of it all— well, it’s not like you don’t get along with these people. It’s just that you’ve never gone over meaningless jokes and talks about the state of the dorm, plus you’ve never exactly been the center of attention like this. It feels off, and it reflects in your uncertain tone, “I am?”

“I’m so happy for you,” Binna chimes in next, grabbing your shoulders with way more enthusiasm than the level of your relationship with her would normally allow, and the way all of their heads nod along that it feels like a coordinated performance is starting to scare you.

“You’re… happy for—”

“I’ve always known you and Jeongguk were perfect for each other,” the affection dripping from Binna’s voice sickens you, maybe even more than the words she’s speaking.

Huh?

You swear you feel your heart skip a long beat before you mask it with an obnoxious, nervous laugh, only growing more when none of them crack a smile or react, “Me and— okay, is this a fucking joke?”

“C’mon, ___,” Iseul says, her sweet voice doing nothing to calm your tension, and if anything it only heightens it, “You don’t need to hide anymore, Jeongguk told Namjoon that you’re his girlfriend.”

Oh. So this must be a fucking joke.

And you can’t stand it.

You barely manage to shake off their relentless curiosity, the entire dorm suddenly buzzing with an interest in you after years of peaceful and civil indifference, and it only overwhelms you to the brim.

Fury boils in your chest as you step out of the building, the cold air failing to cool the anger that flares up within you. With every step, your frustration grows, and you hastily type on your phone as you make your way toward the one person that’s responsible for your temper.

You [10:07 p.m.]: what the actual fuck jeongguk

The response comes so quickly, almost as if he were waiting for you to type it, and you scoff in disbelief. In that moment, you feel a twisted sense of understanding with serial killers. It makes you question how much control you actually have over yourself.

sassy queen 💁🏻 [10:07 p.m.]: What’s up?

You [10:07 p.m.]: why’s the whole dorm asking me how's it like to be your gf?

sassy queen 💁🏻 [10:08 p.m.]: Eeehhhh???

sassy queen 💁🏻 [10:08 p.m.]: That’s so weird

You’re actually gonna fuck this man up.

You [10:09 p.m.]: jeon jeongguk.

You [10:09 p.m.]: they’re saying you told namjoon i’m your girlfriend.

sassy queen 💁🏻 [10:09 p.m.]: Don’t use my full name and the period please 🥺

You [10:10 p.m.]: i’ll fucking kill you.

sassy queen 💁🏻 [10:10 p.m.]: You’re so hot when you’re like this

You [10:10 p.m.]: shut the hell up.

The banging on his door comes shortly after, and Jeongguk doesn’t even flinch. He knows it’s you, and frankly he was even expecting your arrival to be louder, hit him a little harder than it does. And when he lets you in, you storm in his space with no room for oxygen, door closing behind you but unable to contain the volume of your rage private.

“Can you explain why the whole campus thinks we’re dating? ‘Cause you’re not my boyfriend, and I’m not your girlfriend, and this is not fucking funny.”

But Jeongguk evidently does find it funny, chuckling under his hand coming to cover his mouth while the other one lifts to show you the bright screen of his cracked phone, “Really? The uni Instagram page is shipping us.”

“Shipping us?” You snatch the device from his hands, eyes widening as you scroll through the amount of stories posted in the last hour, everyone and their mother feeling entitled to weigh in on your nonexistent relationship. You whine, a hand resting at your forehead in disbelief, “Oh my god, this is ridiculous.”

“What, are you ashamed of me?” Jeongguk asks casually, walking back and sitting on the bed with a soft thud, his whole demeanor relaxed with a nonchalance that makes your left eye twitch.

You scoff, unwilling to grasp how this is even an actual thing happening to you, tossing the phone back at him, “A little bit, yeah. You think this is a fucking joke, huh? I’m now apparently dating the uni’s most popular fuckboy.”

The damned boy in front of you leans on his forearms, pouting just for show, “Hey, that’s mean. I’m no fuckboy.”

Bag thrown to the ground with a violence that it does not deserve, you start pacing back and forth in his room, letting out a borderline insane laugh, not knowing whether to scream or cry, “Yes, you are. You went through every single girl in this building.”

“Do you really think of me like that?”

The sudden sincerity that you think you spot in his tone makes you halt your steps, body turning to him as he sits straight again, his head tilting slightly.

You sigh, frustration mounting, and you throw your head back at the ceiling for any signal from the universe that this is indeed a joke, a bad, huge joke on you, “Jeongguk. Please.”

Silence fills the room next, but it doesn’t make it any easier to think nor does it quite register in your brain, mind racing with jumbled and chaotic thoughts, barely coming through as coherent words, getting intertwined with one another.

But the more you walk from one side of the room to the other, the more you’re almost able to untangle the mess, just enough to start processing what’s happening.

Then, a nuclear bomb wipes it all out, Jeongguk’s words the missile, his quiet tone the explosion, “I don’t want you to see nobody else.”

“What the fuck?”

The aftermath of the destruction is not only loud, ears ringing with a shrieking alarm going off, your figure stiff with shock, but you feel its heat burning your whole body in consuming flames that threaten to swallow you whole if you don’t let them take over, rise, flood every nerve until all you can feel is the rage boiling in your veins when you practically scream at him, ”What the hell does that even mean? You're being selfish!”

“Am I?” Jeongguk asks calm, calculated, gaze locked on yours as if daring you to challenge him further. His tone is maddeningly measured even as he pushes himself off the bed and closes the distance between you.

It’s like he’s planned this— attack after attack designed to destabilize you completely. Not only did he thrust you into the spotlight without warning, claiming you for the whole campus to see as if you’re worth nothing more than a stupid prank and a few laughs.

But now he talks with a grace that belies the chaos he’s stirred, as if his words are just another fact, something as simple as the weather, “I haven’t been seeing anybody since this summer. Since we started using no condom.”

Your pupils tremble with something far more complex than just anger, though you refuse to give it a name. He’s practically towering over you, his stance purposeful, making you feel small; as if the intensity of his gaze is not enough that it makes you falter, as if the humiliation he’s putting you through isn’t either. Head shaking, your voice does too, “That’s— not true. You’re a fucking liar. You— What about Haeun?

“Nothing even happened with her.”

The speed of his denial sets you off, an incredulous scoff breaking free as you roll your tongue against the inside of your cheek—a habit you’d picked up from witnessing his easy tempers, “Then why did you tell me you kissed?”

“Because—” Jeongguk hesitates, and the pause is so out of character that it almost gives you whiplash. The boy who always has something to say suddenly seems unsure. His hand flexes at his side, a nervous tick you hadn’t noticed before, and he exhales as if the words are fighting their way out of him, “‘Cause— I was jealous.”

“Jealous?” Your voice cracks on the word, a laugh bubbling out of you that’s sharp and fractured, borderline unhinged. It cuts through the room like broken glass, and his expression tightens, jaw clenching. But he doesn’t interrupt.

“Jealous,” you repeat, louder this time, your incredulous tone thick with rage. “You’re telling me you made up that bullshit because you were jealous?”

He doesn’t respond, and it pushes you closer to your limit, on the verge of exploding. You don’t know how you find it within you, but with a long exhale and a quick prayer up at the ceiling, you meet his gaze in an almost patronizing manner, “Jeongguk, we are not exclusive. I thought that was well implied. You don’t get to act like this. You don’t get to be jealous.”

Nodding along to your words, Jeongguk’s brows draw together, his expression somewhere between anxious and defensive. There’s something in his eyes, something close to fear, but fear of what, you can’t quite place.

When he speaks, his voice is softer than yours, as though he’s trying to keep it from breaking, “I know. We both agreed to that, yes. We’re both allowed to see other people.”

The words feel rehearsed, like he’s repeated them to himself a hundred times. But with the silence stretching, it’s clear he’s struggling to say more. His lips press together briefly, and his gaze flicks to yours, searching. It’s as though he’s waiting — no, hoping — you’ll interject, offer something to fill the space.

You don’t. You hold firm, tilting your head slightly, your confusion evident. Your wide, questioning eyes, so big, so honest, pull the truth from him in a way you don’t intend, and he exhales like it’s been forced out of him.

“But I don’t want you to.”

The sheer audacity of his words hits you like a slap, the kind that stings more because of its unexpectedness. You snort, although there’s nothing particularly amusing about your heart cracking at the middle, but you manage to keep it from resounding in your words, "That’s so fucking mean. Do you even hear yourself? You get to fuck whoever you want, and I’m kept hostage? And now—now everybody thinks we’re dating!"

"That’s good," he says, simple, unflinching.

You blink, disbelief coursing through you as your lips part in a strangled gasp. "What?" The word is half a whisper, half a shout, and it escapes before you can temper it, "You’re so selfish. I fucking hate you.”

The emotion is foreign from what you’re used to showing him, softness in quiet ways, affection in silent gestures. But now, it’s all loud rage, the opposite of love spilling out of you in volatile waves. Your hands curl into fists at your sides, itching for release, something, anything to make him feel the way you’re being forced to feel, to cut through the weight of his seemingly impassive expression showing only the barest twitch in his brows, a crack too small to satisfy your anger.

It isn’t enough. You need more.

Your palms find his chest, shoving him with the force of every burning feeling inside you. “You’re stupid,” you spit, watching him take the push without exactly budging, like he’s made of stone. It only stokes your frustration further, your hands pushing again, harder this time. “And dumb.”

Jeongguk doesn’t step back, doesn’t fight you. He stands there, his chest steady, absorbing your hits without a word. His lack of resistance only makes the storm inside you rage harder, and the tears you’ve been holding back threaten to spill over.

You scramble for more, anything to turn the reality of what you truly feel into the illusion of anger, “And— and— Why the fuck are you silent! Say something!” You aim another punch at his chest, but it’s impossibly weaker, the exhaustion showing in your useless attempts at getting at him.

You sniff, and you know you lost against his indifference, your voice wavering feeling like a confession you didn’t mean to make. “Asshole. You’re being so mean. You’re making me cry.”

That’s what finally breaks him. Only the tears slipping rapidly from your eyes get his resolve to crumble. His hands are on you instantly, gripping your shoulders gently but firmly, refusing to let you squirm away. You slap at them weakly, but his touch is steady, his fingers brushing strands of hair from your face, cupping your chin to tilt it up toward him.

“Toots, no. Hey, hey,” he whispers, his tone soft in a way that disarms you completely. His thumb swipes at a stray tear, but your face turns away, evading him like it’s your only line of defense. He doesn’t back down, “Stop crying. Hey, look at me. Will you?”

“Stop calling me that!” You finally snap, jerking your face away again. The tears are spilling faster now, no matter how much you want to fight them, no matter how much you want to cling to the fury. “I hate you. You’re fucking all the girls in this college, and I’m only fucking you, because— because—”

“God,” Jeongguk groans, exasperation dripping from his tone. You’re about to hurl another half-formed insult or maybe even take a swing at him again, aiming low, but his next words stop you cold.

“Do I have to spell it out for you?” His tone is quieter now, more deliberate, the vulnerability in it cutting sharper than anything else he’s said. “I like you. I broke the rule.”

You’re sure your heart will fail you today. It misses at least four beats, and it steals the oxygen from your lungs, along with the color from your face.

You stammer, eyes widening as your pulse picks up again and pounds in your ears. “Don’t—don’t say shit like that. I swear to God, I’ll actually fuck you up. Stop—lying to me.”

“What the fuck, ___? I’m not lying to you,” Jeongguk’s voice attempts to be steady but it can’t hide the desperation, as if he’s holding on by a thread. “Why would I?”

The question is simple.

Why would Jeongguk lie to you? Does he have a reason to fake this?

The world seems to tilt, the ground beneath you shifting in some irreparable way.

You should feel scared. You should feel repulsed at the thought of commitment, the weight of his words pressing against you like a cage. But you don’t.

Instead, your eyes dart between his, searching for cracks in his sincerity, like a frantic spectator watching a tennis match, every glance like a volley in the game of something bigger than either of you. The matchpoint sends a thrill through your chest, something overwhelming and terrifying but not unwelcome.

Jeongguk watches you closely, feeling the weight of the silence between you stretch on longer than he can handle. He knows he’s the one that should break it, knows the truth he’s holding inside has to be spoken now.

It’s now or never. He can’t keep pretending—this isn’t just some casual thing to him, and he’s not ready to let it slip away without a fight. You’ve become everything he didn’t know he needed, and yet here he is, paralyzed by the fear of rejection, of being vulnerable, of watching the one thing he wants most slip right through his fingers.

But that’s the thing, isn’t it? If he doesn’t speak up now, he’ll lose everything. His fear has no place in this moment anymore.

It’s a long exhale before his voice drops in soft honey, shaking with the weight of the truth, “Look. I know it’s hard to trust me. You’ve seen me fuck up multiple times over this stuff. But I want to stop this cycle. I want to allow myself something good,” his eyes search for any signal that he should stop talking, but in yours he finds every reason for him not to, “And you’re everything good that life will ever concede me. I can't… I can't let you go. I can't lose you.”

"Jeongguk…" His name slips from your lips like a prayer you've been too afraid to speak aloud until now. But you see it— he’s ready to find every solution, even if it means confronting the fear that has held him back for so long.

“I like you so much it’s killing me,” he admits, voice low and raw, every syllable cracking with vulnerability.

It’s a slow realization, like a tide that comes in quietly, softly. You’ve felt its caress for so long, and now that it embraces you wholly, you feel your heart expand, filling with the same warmth, the same longing.

The words you wish you could say are caught in your throat. You look up at him, eyes wide, trying to comprehend, to take in what he’s offering. You’re almost afraid to ask, as if the answer will shatter something you’ve worked so hard to protect, “You like me?”

“I lose my fucking mind when it comes to you.” His confession is a rush of honesty that sweeps through you, his eyes not leaving yours, like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he blinks.

The world feels like it’s slowing down. There’s so much you’ve been holding back, but you don’t know how to make the words fit, how to make them sound right.

Jeongguk takes a small step back, his voice quieter but still heavy with emotion. “It’s okay if you wanna end it here,” he murmurs, his words barely above a whisper, like he’s bracing for the worst. “At least it wasn’t because you got with some other stupid guy.”

You shake your head, the thought of losing him too painful to bear. “Stop—” You let out a frustrated sigh, hands curling into fists at your sides. “God, you’re so dumb. This could have been so much easier if you’d told me sooner.”

He looks at you, confusion flickering across his face. “What do you mean?”

You feel your chest tighten, the truth slipping out before you can stop it. “I like you too,” you admit, the words finally leaving your lips hastly, like they were just waiting for the right moment. “I agreed to the date because I thought you were still… fucking around.”

His face softens, and there’s a flash of relief in his eyes. “I wasn’t. Haven’t been in so long.”

“...No Haeun?”

“Hell no. I don’t want no kiss if it isn’t from you.”

You laugh, a low sound that fills the air between you. “Cheesy fucker,” you tease, but there’s a warmth in your chest now, a feeling you can’t ignore. “Well, if you want to know, I wasn’t seeing anybody either. Namjoon asked me out randomly, but I haven’t been with anyone else since… this started.”

His eyes widen slightly, and for a moment, everything is quiet. He looks at you like he’s just heard something he never expected to hear. “Oh,” he says softly.

“Yeah.”

Jeongguk steps closer to you, his hands reaching for you, voice thick, “I’m so sorry, baby. I never meant to make you cry. It’s breaking my heart.” His thumb brushes across your cheek, gently wiping away the remnants of the tears you hadn’t even realized had fallen. “I’m so sorry.”

You shake your head, your heart swelling with both regret and tenderness. “It’s okay,” you say softly. “I’m sorry for yelling all that stuff at you. I don’t hate you. I…”

Before you can finish, his lips crash against yours, and all the confusion, all the fears, prove themselves to be worth this moment.

They dissolve into something real, the kiss trying to make up for lost time, for all the things left unsaid.

When you pull away, your foreheads resting together, Jeongguk’s voice is quiet but determined. “Come here, baby. You’re mine.”

“Prove it.”

[mmriesoftvat]

Thought provoking anon here👋💗 Hehe I’m glad you enjoy my curious questions. At first I was afraid I was pestering you but I’m happy you enjoy digging deep into Wanderer’s character. These hypotheticals are coming into my mind because I’m trying to pull for Wanderer right now so🤞

Also! I’m sure you’re already aware of this but I just learned this yesterday. That if you give the Wanderer your(the player’s) name he makes a comment along the lines of how its an honor to share your name.❤️❤️❤️ You know he pretends to be so indifferent when in reality he feels everything.

HE IS SO EMOTIONAL!!

so many people think that just because he appears rude/aloof at first doesn't mean he actually is! wanderer is so complex and packs so many emotions underneath. he has so many complex emotions toward the traveler especially, and at the end of the day, can acknowledge that he doesn't hate the traveler after all, they did help him out when they didn't have to. same with nahida and everyone he works with/played in the championships with.

wanderer cares so much. he cares about people, and tries not to show it, because he's got so many walls up. he doesn't want to get hurt again at the end of the day. boy's got so much angst inside him that it's hard to separate the feelings of trust and actually liking someone, and he struggles with that concept too. he WANTS to open up to people, but if he does, if he lets himself get close, he'll lose them too. it's how it's always worked.

he feels all the hurt, all the sadness, the grief, the pain, the confusion, EVERYTHING. he's a big ol' ball of confusion, while slowly, very slowly, letting his walls down to let people in, because life doesn't always have to be a tragedy, and life for him can actually be good.

i am so passionate about this funky lil bastard. he is my second favorite (next to chongyun, though they tie for first sometimes), and i love any bits of lore we get about him. he deserves the character growth, he deserves all the good things.

[walkingdaryls]

the chosen one

pairing: loki x reader

request: hi i was wondering if you could write a fluffy loki imagine where maybe he’s like an ass to everyone but just kinda claims the reader as like his favorite person or something and honestly you don’t even have to stick to that i’d just love a fluffy loki if you could thank you!

warnings: some swearing, very fluffy

(gotta love fluffy loki. the best loki. also, this is a bit long so i’m sorry about that hehe)

The main thing you loved about the Avengers, your lovely teammates, was the fact that each one had something that set them a part from the rest. Bruce’s buzzing brain, Tony’s ego, Nat’s confidence, and so on. You adored every single one of them.

And what they adored about you was that you were always the “empathetic” Avenger. The one who believed in second changes. In never judging a book by its cover. And the one who believed people could genuinely change for the better. Now, everyone else was also fully aware of the fact that you could easily kick anyone’s ass with your powers or wit. Or both at the same time. But your welcoming, trusting personality definitely shined. Most of your teammates loved you for it, even if they teased you endlessly for being the nice one.

But what really threw your team off was the way you allowed Loki onto the team so easily with no doubts. Years after the incident in New York with the God of Mischief, Thor began asking for Loki’s acceptance into the Avengers. He claimed that even under his sarcasm and rolling eyes, he had changed for the better. The whole team was very hesitant, but after tons of psychological evaluations and close screenings, Loki was slowly turned into an Avenger. He’d aided on plenty of missions, proving himself to be good a bit more every time. But the team still wanted to suffocate him to death every once in a while.

Loki didn’t exactly like any of the Avengers, and he felt like none of them liked him either. But a job was a job.

The only exception was you. You’d been the only one throughout his time as an Avenger that never provoked him, or looked at him in a dirty way. Well, it wasn’t like you two even had conversations. You two simply minded your own business around each other. You never trashed him, so he left you alone. Simple as that. You were never one for hating on someone who was trying to change.

It wasn’t until one night after dinner, when Tony provoked an argument with Loki, that you finally had had enough.

“Someone tell me why we let him be an Avenger again. Please?” Tony said after Loki had dramatically left the room.

Clint sighed, “I’ve been saying, he’s too risky after what he did in New York.”

The others chimed in, and even Thor expressed reluctance about his brother. You couldn’t believe your ears. So you suddenly slammed your hands on the table, causing your friends’ head to snap towards you.

“Are you guys fucking kidding me? I wasn’t aware that we were gonna start contemplating kicking people off the team every time we talk back or start a stupid argument.”

Tony crossed his arms, “That’s not what we’re doing. And it is so much more than just the arguments. Loki-“

“No!” You exclaimed, “It isn’t fair to him! It’s not fair at all. How many of us have shitty pasts we’ve moved on from? How many of us have made stupid mistakes that we will probably regret for the rest of our lives? Most likely all of us. But do we give each other horrible looks every time we see each other? No! We forgive each other and ourselves. That’s the thing about us, Tony: we stick together no matter what.”

No one said anything, so you continued, “And I’m fully aware that Loki’s mistakes are probably far worse than anything we’ve ever done, but the message still stands. I mean, how many missions has he helped us on? The amount of close security and psych evaluations he’s been through just to be part of the team? It’s been years, for fucks sake. Yes, he can be a dick to some of you sometimes, but that’s just him. It’s no reason to continue to hate his guts. Do you guys remember the mission France like 5 months ago that almost went wrong? Loki saved my life. I was this close to being killed. If he hadn’t been there, I wouldn’t be here today with you guys. So I think we owe him some thanks. Especially me.”

You were heated by that point. Everyone continued to stay completely silent, so you stood up.

“I-I’m gonna head to bed now. Just wanted to let y’all know you’re being a bit hypocritical,” And you walked away, catching just a ghost of a smile on Nat’s face.

“Jesus, I think she’s heard one too many of Steve’s speeches,” Rhodey muttered, earning a shove from Steve himself.

But what you didn’t know while you walked away, was that Loki had been standing in the other room, hearing every word you’d just said.

—

Over a week passed since your monologue at the dinner table. No one really mentioned anything about it afterwards, which you were really grateful. All you got was a random pat on the back from Steve and him saying, “We’re all proud of you, kiddo.”

You made your way into the kitchen, which was currently being used by most of your team. 9am in the tower’s kitchen on days off were always pretty hectic. Wearing your usual workout outfit, you made your way towards the mug cabinet.

You were the only one on the team that avoided coffee at all costs. Tea was your go-to. The only other person like you in that aspect was Loki. He was the kind of person you’d caught making tea at 2 in the morning when he couldn’t sleep.

As you reached for the mugs, you realized your favorite one - a minnie mouse one you’d bought at Disney World years ago - was nowhere to be seen. You were pretty sure you’d just put it away last night after helping Tony with the dishes.

“Here.”

You turned around to see Loki, still in his forest green silk robe, holding out your well-loved mug in his hand. You could smell your usual green tea steaming out of the mug.

You stood in shock more a moment before snapping out of your thoughts and taking the mug from him carefully.

“Oh, thank you,” You smiled genuinely. You could feel Nat’s gaze on you a few feet away at the waffle-maker. In fact, a few of the team members’ eyes flickered towards your interaction. Loki’s face remained neutral as he went back to making his own cup of tea.

Thor, noticing this, yawned, “Brother, could you please pour me a cup of-“

“No,” Loki walked out of the room with his tea in one hand, and book in the other. Thor’s mouth slightly fell, glancing back from the cup of tea in your hands to Loki. Steve snorted from the stool next to Thor.

What the fuck just happened? You made your way towards the gym a few floors down with confusion on your face. But mostly warmth in your heart.

The next day, Loki had your green tea waiting for you in your favorite mug once again. And you didn’t hesitate to give him your signature smile and a sweet “thank you”, even if you were a bit taken aback.

And he continued to do this for the next few days. Every morning, without fail. Green tea. Minnie Mouse mug.

At this point, Nat definitely became more aware. She pulled you aside after a while with slightly mischief in her eyes.

“Are you two friends?” She asked genuinely.

“Nat, it’s just tea.”

“Yeah, except Loki’s never even bothered to do something like that with the rest of us. Never.”

You shrugged, “He isn’t Satan. He’s capable of nice things.”

Nat chucked, “Not like this. And it’s just with you. He practically begged you have you as a partner during our last mission.”

It was true, although you wouldn’t exactly say ‘beg’. But he had been pretty adamant on having you as his partner for the mission. He’d asked you kindly first before letting Tony know. In the moment, you hadn’t thought much of it. But looking back at it, you now realized how genuine his actions had been. And you two made a hell of a team that day.

“Maybe he heard your speech that other night,” She smirked, walking away before winking at you. You stood there dumbfounded with a slight redness growing in your cheeks.

That afternoon, with your work done for the day, you made your way towards the main living room with your current book in your hands.

Upon entering the room, you should see Loki’s figure on the couch. He was slightly bent over which only meant he was probably reading as well. You hesitated, but made your way over anyways.

“Is it okay if I read here, too?” You asked quietly. Loki glanced up at you, nodding softly.

“Of course.” Was all he said. You gave him a ghost of a smile before plopping down the the other couch a few feet away. His eyes promptly followed you as you turned to the page marked by your bookmark. You began reading calming, posing no threat to him, so he continued his reading too. Loki felt quite at peace with the sun setting, your soft breathing, and his favorite book in his lap. And the best part: the rest of the Avengers were nowhere to be seen.

“What are you reading?” Your voice sounded softly. Loki placed a finger to mark where he last read before glancing up at you. You feared he’d be pissed off for the interruption, so you continued.

“I mean, I’ve seen you carry that book around for a while now. And it’s all worn out...which usually means it’s a good book,” You chuckled.

Loki watched you carefully before smirking, “Indeed. It’s called Pride and Prejudice. I’ve been told it’s a classic amongst mortals. Have you read it?”

Your face suddenly lit up. Your book was suddenly set aside as you leaned forward excitedly. Loki, although he would never admit it out loud, loved the sparkle forming in your glorious eyes.

“Yes!” You said, “Oh, it’s one of my all time favorites. The movie, too.”

Loki quirked an eyebrow, “There’s a movie? Well, I’ll have to watch that once I’m done with reading it.”

“So you like the book?”

“...Yes. I’m about three-quarters done with it. I have to say, it is rather enjoyable.”

You leaned back against the couch, gazing dreamily at the ceiling, “I’m a sucker for those kinds of romance stories. And I like to think I’m quite like Elizabeth Bennet.”

Loki squinted, “I think so, too.” You lifted your head slightly, making eye contact with the raven-haired God. The soft gaze on his face seemed to mean well, so you allowed for your cheeks to grow a light shade of red.

“Well,” You smiled, looking down at your book, “Let’s get back to reading, yeah?”

Loki nodded, but made sure to keep his eyes on your for a few seconds longer before opening to his page once more.

—

Another couple week passed, and Tony decided to call a ‘very urgent team meeting that has nothing to do with actual team stuff’.

You entered the kitchen where the rest of your teammates were sitting or standing around, chattering amongst themselves. Tony was waiting until everyone arrived before sharing what he needed to say. You slid on a stool next to Nat.

Bucky and Bruce showed up a minute or so later, which meant practically everyone was there. You looked around for the only missing person: Loki. But before you could say anything, the familiar God walked in with Tony followed a few feet behind.

“Alright,” Tony clapper his hands, “Glad we’re all here.” He walked into the kitchen where he served himself some liquor before turning to the rest of you. You felt Loki come up behind you, before situating himself right next to you.

You looked up at him, smiling softly, “Hi.”

“Hello,” He spoke extremely lowly, yet his eyes brightened just a bit more. You felt even more tiny compared to him now that you were sitting and him standing.

“So...what’s this meeting for?” Bruce asked.

“Great question,” Tony said, “I have decided that after tireless back-to-back missions these past few days...we all deserve a treat. That’s why I booked a reservation to the fanciest restaurant within a twenty minute drive. It’s at 8, so I want all of us ready to leave by 7:40.”

“God, Tony you know I hate when you plan stuff like this last minute,” Bruce stressed.

Tony shrugged, “It’s not like any of you losers had plans. Now, go get ready. You’ve all got less than two hours.”

You sighed, “The fanciest place in the city? I hope you’re paying.” A few chuckles sounded from your teammates.

“I wasn’t joking,” You looked at Tony.

The genius rolled his eyes, “Obviously I’m paying. Now, go! All of you. Shoo. Jesus, you try to do a nice thing and people still ask questions-“

Everyone groaned, getting up from their spots and leaving to their rooms to get prepared for the big night. You sent Loki a sympathic glance before going to your floor. You knew he hated going out.

So that’s how you ended up wearing your nicest white, tight-fitting dress that ended a few inches above your knee. It had a long, thick golden embellishment traveling from the bottom to your top left shoulder. It was very classy. And paired with golden heels, you truly felt otherworldly.

You, Nat, and Wanda were all up in each other’s bedrooms, trying to decide each other’s hair and makeup. Wanda was especially skilled with eyeshadow looks for some reason. And Nat more with hair. Your two blessings, you called them.

You three joined the rest of the guys in front of tower, all piling in the long, iconic Stark limo. You definitely hadn’t missed the look Loki gave you as you walked past him to get into the vehicle. He didn’t say anything, so neither did you. You just sent him your signature smile.

Champagne was passed around once in the limo with flashing lights. You were squished between Thor and Loki, which wasn’t exactly a complaint. Thor was cracking jokes to you and calling you “my lady” the entire ride. It was a blast, and you hadn’t even arrived yet. Loki on the other hand, stayed quiet as a mouse. He only said “thank you” when you passed him a glass, and that was it.

Upon arriving, your breath was almost taken away at how fancy the restaurant truly was. Tony never disappointed. Your team’s reserved table had each seat labeled with each of your names on paper.

Nobody noticed, but Loki created an illusion to switch you and Bucky’s seats so you’d be sitting next to him.

Loki allowed you to slide into your chair first before sitting down next to you. He immediately reached for the menu. Seeing that there weren’t enough left for you, you silently read over his shoulder. Without saying anything, he slightly lowered the menu to give you a better look.

Hours passed, and the entire table had fallen a bit tipsy. You were stuffed with more than enough raviolis and champagne. You even accidentally hiccuped while trying to tell a story to the rest, but everyone teased you so much for it, you couldn’t even finish what you were going to say. But how could you be mad? You were having the funniest, and most lovely night of your life with your second family. The rest of the restaurant probably hated all of your guts for your loudness and endless laughter, but none of you cared.

“I’ll be back,” Loki had whispered from beside you. You turned your head, watching him walk away towards the restaurant’s balcony doors. You looked back at your team, seeing they were all occupied with themselves, and followed Loki.

Feeling the fresh breeze outside somehow made you and your bloating feel a bit better. You spotted the familiar dark-haired man gazing out at the buzzing city at the edge of the balcony.

You sucked in a breath before speaking, “May I join you?”

He looked back, “Of course.”

It was always of course, you thought.

Your heels clattered lightly on the tile floor as you made your way next to him. You didn’t know if it was the champagne in your system, but you found yourself standing extremely close, touching shoulders with Loki. But he didn’t make any efforts to move away.

“You seemed awfully quiet during dinner. Is everything okay?” You asked.

Loki looked at his hands, “Just not the ‘going out’ type, remember?” You nodded, looking back at the skyline.

“You know, Loki,” you said, “I never properly thanked you for saving my life back in France months ago.”

You’d had a couple slip ups in missions before, but the entire team remembered that traumatic mission in France extremely well. You truly had been on the verge of dying. So close. But Loki had gotten in there and saved your ass. And Loki remembered, too. But it hurt him too much to think back on it. He’d been so close to never seeing your bright smile, or your infectious giggles again.

“Y/N, I-“

The alcohol in your system didn’t stop you from rambling, “I know I’m late, like, months late, but I just wanted you to know. I am so thankful. I literally owe you my life-“

“You don’t owe me anything, Y/N, heavens,” Loki watched you with a concerned gaze.

You blushed, “Well, I needed to get it off my chest. So, thank you Loki.”

“Well, I couldn’t afford losing the only person on this team I can somewhat stand.”

Your eyes flickered to his, seeing him wear an amused smirk on his face.

“I’m-I’m your favorite Avenger?” You teased. The God rolled his eyes.

Your smile was making your cheeks burn, “FYI...you’re my favorite, too. Well, maybe next to Nat.”

Loki let out a small, breathy laugh. You joined in, making him stare at you once more. His stare was so intense, you didn’t know what to do except awkwardly stare back.

Loki wanted more. He yearned to hear your voice again. So that’s why he said the next thing without thinking.

“You look beautiful tonight. Well, every day, of course. I forgot to tell you when you walked of your room a couple of hours ago, so I’m letting you know now.”

You were so thankful it was dark out, for you just knew that the look on your face was embarassing. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing.

“I think you’re beautiful, too,” You blurted. Loki gave you the softest gaze you’ve ever seen, so you couldn’t help but carefully place your hand on of top his.

Loki tenderly lifted your hand before pressing his lips to the tip of your fingers. All you could do was watch, breathless. He set your hand down before grabbing both sides of your face, and pressing another soft kiss, but to your forehead this time.

“That’s why we’re each other’s favorites,” He smiles cheekily at you.

You giggled, resting your head on his shoulder.

“Indeed.”

—

[moved-attre]

Rewriting Cyberpunk 2077 into a bullet point list! LET’S GO!

(Disclaimer: I’m trying to be realistic. So no, “every single detail of the game changes based upon every single choice V makes” but just things I expected in an RPG from an AAA company in 2020. I take a lot of inspiration from the old trailers, and rumors of pre-2018 development.)

And this is really long, too. Sorry. 😜

Okay, so first off: Act 1 generally goes off the same as it does in canon. I’m open to other ideas, but I don’t think it’s a bad starting point. I do think V and Jackie should have had more time together, doing smaller jobs until Dex calls. Like, there should’ve been side jobs that were only available in Act 1. You have to get a minimum of 5 street cred before you get the conversation with Jackie about Dex.

The heist still goes to shit; Yorinobu kills his father, Takemura rebels against him and Arasaka factions split. V inserts the chip into their head, Jackie still dies and Dex shoots V in the head. Takemura rescues V, kills Dex, V wakes up in Vik’s and is told they have 4 months to live. (2 weeks is not enough!)

On to Act 2! The origins actually affect the game, so there’s three versions of it you can play. (Some things happen regardless of the origin, though.) For example: Corpo V has contacts in the Corpo world and pursues leads about the Relic there through their old friends. Street Kid V has contacts in the gangs, like the Valentinos or Maelstrom, who have dirty dealings with corporations and can get V in on Arasaka knowledge, Nomad V has leads out in the badlands about the corporations and gets in that way, hijacking transports to get some info. All origins can work with the corporations (like Hanako’s branch of Arasaka, Militech, Biotechnia, etc.) or against them. Like, the point is to snoop around the corporations and dig up some dirt on the Relic and Yorinobu’s Arasaka branch specifically but each origin goes about it differently?

Maelstrom vs Meredith Stout choice actually matters. It’s one point in a subplot I mentioned above, where V continually makes choices on whether they’re gonna side with the corporations or the gangs/people of NC against Arasaka in order to be rid of the Relic. Also affects V’s relationship with Johnny. You can also have a real, long term relationship with Meredith if you pick her side and get Militech support, or count on Maelstrom to help you in the main plot against Arasaka. Both sides will still attack V if they poke their nose in, meaning random encounters can still happen.

^ The subplot is like, making a deal with the devils (The corpos) or... other devils (The gangs). One person objectively could say one is better than the other, but they’re both awful. Night City is kind of rotten to the core, and V’s problems can’t be fixed by a pursuit of justice. V can still be a good person in either case, and it’s still kept kind of punk by going against the head honchos. I think this more suits the “Wake the fuck up, Samurai. We have a city to burn.” quote because V is churning up a path to the top, even if their methods are purely selfish. V themselves can be uninterested in righting wrongs, but they kind of turn NC on its head by challenging Arasaka so changes come anyway.

Point, is you fuck everything up either way. THEN, V can choose whether to trust the corporations and work with Hanako to “change the system from within” without disrupting people’s day-to-day lives (short term good choice I suppose?) or to let the gangs rise up and cause total anarchy. (long term good? since the downtrodden are rising up and maybe there shouldn’t be absolute power in the hands of a few.)

T-Bug doesn’t die. V thinks she’s dead, but sometime in Act 2 gets an anonymous call and meets up with T-Bug. She went underground after the botched heist, and isn’t eager to work with V again. Maybe you do a few missions with her, and she comes around? Or you fuck up and never hear from her again. I imagine she’d love to poke around at the Relic, if V helps her.

Giving Jackie’s body to Vik has real consequences. If you give his body to his mother, you attend the ofrenda and get his bike, his mom allows you to use his den as a place to stay... It’s basically the ‘good’ choice, if you care about the characters. If you give his body to Vik, you unlock a side mission where Arasaka steals his body to find the relic. You have to go and find it but it was destroyed(?) at some point by Arasaka. You can get his pistols (Which are, aside from Johnny’s pistol, the best weapons in the game. I don’t get why they aren’t in canon...) in this route and whole lotta angst, so his mom basically hates you because she blames you for not being able to bury her son and the bar is off limits. No getting the bike, either.

More content involving Alt Cunningham. V still witnesses the scene with her and Johnny, her kidnapping and death. But, Ghost AI Alt allows V to look into Alt’s memories for information on Mikoshi. V accidentally accesses some more personal memories. We can see Alt as more of a fleshed out actual person, not just a tragic backstory for Johnny. Some of the memories do involve Johnny, and the tone is very different from her perspective. We see that Alt has genuine affection for him, but Johnny is possessive and abusive... It’s far from the relationship Johnny recalls. Of course, Johnny can see all this too since he lives in V’s head. He and V have a heart to heart afterwards, with Johnny realising how badly he treated Alt and yeah. I wasn’t satisfied with how Alt was just used as a sob story for Johnny, but I was sent an ask by an anonymous person about how the memory was from his perspective and thus biased. It really got me thinking! If I was more creative, I’d come up with a way for Alt to live... But Johnny still needs to bomb Arasaka and Alt’s death was the reason why he did that.

You have to return one of your apartments/safe houses every few days to wash and sleep. If not, V will get a penalty that means they are less accurate when aiming and slower when breaking in a vehicle. Also some NPC’s will refuse to talk to you if you don’t bathe, because... stinky.

And you have to eat! Otherwise you get hungry, and get penalties for that too. Can’t concentrate on an empty stomach. I’d say eating once or twice a day would be enough.

Instead of fast travel points (that are supposed to be taxi services, I think...? But we never see a taxi! And why can’t we just call Del? Ugh.), V takes the metro. There are side missions that can sometimes only start once you get on or off of a train. (You meet NPC’s in the train, or waiting for one.)

Takemura and Johnny are romance options, and are available for all genders. They’re the most difficult to romance, with some (kind of obvious) dialogue choices ending the possibility. Like, for example: Takemura’s romance ends badly if you choose to go against the corporations, and Johnny’s ends badly if you go with the corporations. It’s the same with Meredith, essentially, in that going against her won’t allow you to romance her. I know a rival-mance system is possible, but I think that might be too complicated.

Takemura and V’s relationship is much, much deeper. They have more time together, and grow closer. Takemura trains V in combat, and takes over from Coach Fred in the street fights side missions. You go with Takemura to fights, he’s your coach, is very proud when you win. (He’s basically training V in the event that they have to take on Adam Smasher and Oda. Like, why did we have no training montages with Takemura?!) V is able to choose romance or stay friends with him. There’s plenty more missions with Takemura too, mainly espionage stuff against Yorinobu. Finding out his weaknesses, replacing his staff with people that are loyal to Hanako, digging for dirt on him. Lots of stake outs, hehe. 😉 Romance!™️ Also makes it that much more tragic if V doesn’t choose to trust the corporations, since Takemura will end things and leave NC.

There are garages to upgrade your cars but Panam can upgrade it further if you do her missions + befriend her, and you can find super secret parts for your cars that Panam needs all around NC by stealing them from gangs or Corpos! Like, make your car go 200 mph fast or a setting to make it hover. 😎

FOUND FAMILY TROPE... Involving the LI’s + more characters. I wanted Misty, Vik, Judy, Panam, River and Kerry to all know each other and be friends. Also, somewhere for them to hang out. Judy coming down and hanging out with Misty and Vik would’ve been so cool.

Missions involving Vik. I think he deserved his own personal missions. Also, he’s gotta be romanceable! I’ll add more to this later.

I’m still figuring out how Johnny’s romance would go. It’s a tricky one. Lots of tension, jealously if V flirts with anybody... Heart to hearts... Holding hands... Passive aggressive confessions of love...

River is introduced in the main story. Maybe you team up to hunt down somebody who knows stuff about the Relic, like Anders Hellman, or something else to do with it. River’s like “What the fuck is going on?” but V doesn’t really tell him. Then, of course, you meet him later on and recognise him in the BD given to you by Jefferson.

Meeting Kerry earlier in the story, say mid Act 2? Ideally there would have been 5 Acts, and maybe I’ll edit this to include more once I figure out how the story could have gone. AND he’s part of the main story.

Less generic, “get in, get item and get out” side missions from Fixers and more side missions like the Peralez’s and that guy who got crucified. More freaky Cyberpunk subjects like what constitutes a soul, what is “intelligence” (What makes a machine different than a human? Without shitty false racism analogies), human rights abuses (and in that: classism, racism, ableism, transphobia), pollution, more on “Cyberpsychos” and how harmful that term is, etc. Nauced and thought-provoking. Reminding us that this is a dystopia and the issues are different but not all that wildly so from today. I would’ve developed Brendan’s mission more, because it seemed like we were going to see an earnest discussion on Artificial Intelligence but instead it was just confusing and “Haha, tricked you!” 🥱 Like, what if he really was a person capable of free thought and emotion? And that company still owns him and can overwrite him? Isn’t that fucked up?! It didn’t need a happy ending, just something to unnerve me.

Adding to that, Delamain had plenty of opportunities to discuss AI and the rights of individual contructs. His “children” could be freed, but nothing really happens as a result? I wanted consequences! The emails about human staff being made redundant because of Delamain were so interesting, too. I wanted to see something about the consequences of that in a city with no basic universal income. What happened to them? What can be done to help people who are made redundant by machines? So many possibilities for truly emotional and scary side missions!

I’m gonna watch black mirror for more inspiration, but stuff like the IRL blocking feature? Freaky as hell and totally plausible. Would’ve loved if one of the side missions involved V getting involved in some dispute involving something like that. “I can’t see his face!” or the copyright stuff about people’s appearances! Imagine if there was a Johnny lookalike? Engram Johnny would either find it hilarious or get really pissed off.

I’m hoping the DLC will deliver on more Takemura, so I’ll hold my breath for critiquing the Arasaka ending.

More to come! I’ll probably edit this later, if there’s any mistakes and/or I realise I hate an idea hehe.

[pastryseungs]

Nightmare High (2016)

Dir. Hyun Moon-Sub

⚠️ Spoilers !! ⚠️

i started watching this because i keep seeing this on Netflix and my curiosity got the best of me hehe. also because i’m quite impressed with Kim So-Hyun’s acting skills and she’s also one of my favorite Korean actors, because of her performance in Love Alarm (2019).

lmao so i finished this show a couple of days ago and i was supposed to post this after but i decided to collect my thoughts first so i could make this post work haha. i tend to forget what i just watched five minutes after watching it sometimes (its not a quirky thing ;-; i tend to get surprised that i just finished another show that i forget what just happened lol).

anyways, i kinda liked this drama, though i felt like it was a bit of a slow-burn, it showed what the characters were like if they were given the chance to play god, which led to them abusing it then wanting it to stop when they get overwhelmed by it. here’s a list of my thoughts on each characters’ stories :v

1. Kim Seul-Gi

the name reminds me so much of Seulgi (Kang Seulgi) from Red Velvet lmaoo. Kim Seulgi (Seo Shin-ae) was considered as their class’ “outcast”, with her classmates going out of their way to talk about how she’s invisible and that she’s worthless before proceeding to mess with her stuff. being fed up with her bullies, she decides to go to the counseling office and talk to Mr. Han/Han Bong-Gu (Uhm Ki-Joon) who gives her the layout of their classroom and a red pen, telling her to connect her name with a classmates name with a red line if she wants to be friends with them. after trying this, her classmates start acting nice to her, which eventually led to her not being given the time to be alone and to be with the people that she wants to be with, which then led to her asking Mr. Han if he could reverse the whole thing and go back to normal.

Seul-Gi’s story was honestly a bit sad and frustrating with me. this is why you shouldn’t give people the chance to play god or the chance to control their fate and their surroundings, it just won’t end well. the girl just wanted to have friends that genuinely care for her. the solution that Mr. Han gave her was addicting at first but when it all backfired on her, she decided that maybe it wasn’t for her at all. sadly, she had no other choice but to be trapped in that mirror.

Seul-Gi deserved better :<

2. Oh Ki-Chul

Oh Ki-Chul (Baek Sung-Do) is a student that participates in wrestling/boxing/fighting matches. (??) after a while of not participating, he stumbles upon two students that are fighting and decides to break it up. he was then met with what looks like a student who was also the group’s ‘leader’ telling him that one of the rules of fighting was to never butt-in on someone else’s fight. he was then dared to participate in a fight but turned down the offer as he planned not to do it until he graduates.

after a series of provoking and starting to participate again in other fights. Oh Ki-Chul and Mr. Han spoke about him joining fights, before Mr. Han puts Ki-Chul in a trance to help him see if he’ll win or not. he decides to use this to his advantage, memorizing what he has to do in order to win his fights in the future. eventually, he too had to sign a contract with his blood- like every victim of Mr. Han’s to continue receiving this kind of privilege which eventually led him to being trapped in a mirror too.

my main takeaway from Ki-Chul’s story was that it was kinda weird that Mr. Han just watched from the sidelines instead of holding Ki-Chul back and try to change his mind into not participating in the fight. sadly, he’s not like other Homeroom teachers. for others, they’d probably say that he’s provoking these students into wanting more.. but i think that he’s actually giving them the taste of their own medicine if they decide to abuse their desires if it were given to them. but i still think that Mr. Han’s a bad guy lmao duh.

3. Ahn Si-Yeon

first of all, i think that Ahn Si-Yeon (Kim Da-Ye) is so adorable !! her character gives me fangirl vibes ✨ sadly, she had to fall for Mr. Han’s trap too. it first started when her classmates accused her of lying to them about her having a boyfriend who lives in Boston, with them purposely making her “overhear” their conversations about someone they know that lies about their personal life. i didn’t really get why she had to lie though, i’m quite convinced that she did that to gain more friends. sadly, they had to pry and pry to the point that she had to find a solution to their nosiness, she started it anyway. Si-Yeon went to the counseling room to talk to Mr. Han, where she was given a notebook to write down her desires. now this part gave me Death Note (2006) vibes.. but with less people dying from heart attacks lmao.

after writing down on the ✨ magical ✨ notebook, her ‘boyfriend’ from Boston suddenly appears out of nowhere, apologizing for taking so long to arrive and be there with her. surprised with her wishes being granted by the notebook, Mr. Han gives her the option to sign a contract with her blood or everything goes back to the way it was.

Si-Yeon then continues making ‘things’ happen through her notebook, until she decided that she didn’t want to continue using the notebook anymore and that she wanted everything to go back to normal. unfortunately, burning the notebook didn’t do anything which eventually caused her to be trapped in the mirror as well.

4. Chun Jae-Soo

duuuude, my fujoshi side is jumping out i hate myself lmao anywayss i can’t help but ship Jae-Soo (Jang Kyoung-Up) to Ko Ki-Tae (Ji Eun-Sung), they all so give me Kaneki and Hide vibes from Tokyo Ghoul (2014) !!

anyways, Jae-Soo’s story was pretty sad for me but it was kind of a slow burn? idk, maybe i wasn’t paying much attention or time went by slowly for me that day.. but he got so dependent on the drinks that Mr. Han was giving him that he eventually forgot everyone, even his bestfriend! which made him resort to writing the important details of his life on his arms and on the chair of his desk. i was so sad when Ki-Tae saw Jae-Soo’s arms :< he definitely knew what was wrong with his best friend but couldn’t think of a way to help him without the other thinking that he’s prying. ngl though, i honestly thought that Ki-Tae was using Jae-Soo at first but was then convinced that they were actually best friends.

Jae-Soo’s dependence on the drink eventually made him forget his name, even where he was and where his classroom was. which gave Mr. Han the advantage to trap him inside the mirror as well.

5. Do Do-Hee

Do-Hee (Kim Ji-An) is considered as the queen in her class and was even in their school, Yosan High’s advertisement poster. unfortunately, her boyfriend, Lee Jong-Suk (Kwon Young-Min) cheated on her with a student from the lower level. she was then replaced on the poster with the same girl, which fueled her anger and jealousy towards the new couple. thinking that her beauty is disappearing and she’s being replaced as the prettiest girl in their class, Do-Hee stumbles upon an app that gives her the look she wants with one click. unfortunately, it doesn’t last long and she’ll have to sign a contract with Mr. Han so she could continue using it.

Do-Hee’s features start to get more enhanced, with female students in their school asking her how she got and maintained the far from natural look.. which eventually caused her and Jong-Suk to get back together. after a few weeks of dating, Do-Hee catches Jong-Suk talking to the same girl and retaliated by pouring water all over the two.

unfortunately, her beauty also disappears when her phone’s battery dies and she’ll have to constantly find a way to get an updated phone. the app eventually sent her into a mental breakdown, making her more obsessed with her looks, which gave Mr. Han.. again, an advantage to trap her in the mirror too.

overall, i think the show was pretty good !! Kim So-Hyun and Lee Min-Hyuk have great chemistry and i ship them a lot ;-; though i kinda think this show was a slow burn and there were parts that were kinda boring for me.

it was also kinda creepy and sad for me since these students clearly have problems but their homeroom teacher that should be mediating this situation and guiding them to the right path is the person who’s actually leading them to his trap, which was so frustrating to watch since Ye-Rim (Kim So-Hyun) and Sang-Woo (Lee Min-Hyuk) were so close to finding out what was actually happening. sadly, Mr. Han is waaaay too ahead of them. kinda surprised of the plot twist too where the camera Sang-Woo was using was supposed to tell about people’s lies, kinda reminds me of that TikTok POV i saw the other day.

[anodyne-sunflower]

I know requests are crazy, but may I slide in? Hehe So, a blurb or whatever of Leon kissing reader, don’t care if there isn’t plot but that’s what a blurb is yeah? 🤔 Neway, remember when he’s helping Ada at the end and tells her to ‘Shut up’ Lmao 🤣 can I have him silencing reader by saying this before kissing her?

Sure thing~ Difficult to figure a situation he’d say it in aside from the game one and that isn’t too cruel 😆 Hope you like!

***

The stench was enough to make any seasoned individual flinch, and while Leon wasn’t immune to the heavy odor in the air he certainly wasn’t one to openly complain of it. So, he trekked further into the sewer lines, unhygienic water sloshing around his knees. He learned a while ago to switch his breathing from mouth to nose, giving the other a break if he could. It helped, but it didn’t make the atmosphere any less disgusting.

“You alright back there?” He didn’t bother turning around to check, he could already perceive how deep your repulsion towards this area went. In truth, he was at least finding mild amusement in your constant muttering.

“How do you think, Leon?” You bit back, hating every step that you took in the muck. How he thought this was a bright idea was beyond you, but you weren’t foolish enough to stay above on your own. “This place smells like shit, I’m not dressed properly for this and-“

Leon chuckled to himself as you trailed off into your critiques. The kinder side of him sympathized with you, because he didn’t exactly expect his first day to become this. But, you were even further out of place, with your fitted dress and heels. Granted, he managed to salvage some boots from the police station for you, but otherwise you certainly weren’t expecting the living dead to come on what should’ve been a night of partying for you. “I did offer to carry you.” He turned to look at you with a grin, eyes drifting over your figure that looked a little too good in that outfit, even with the soft tears and dirt that clung to it.

“Like hell.” You clicked your tongue at Leon, speeding up purposely to remove yourself from behind him. Not that it got you far, your boots kept sticking to whatever was beneath the sewage. “I hate this place!” Your palm came to brace yourself along the wall, the grime you felt making you cringe and screech. Somewhere behind, you heard Leon stifle a laugh, but you didn’t have the energy to fight back.

“Need some help?” He stopped at your side, eyebrow raised and blue eyes more entertained than you wanted them to be.

“Not from you.” You struggled to remove your foot from the spot it was anchored, and the harder you pulled the clumsier it left your balance. If it wasn’t for Leon, you would’ve found yourself neck deep in the filth below, but fortunately for you, his reflexes were far superior. His arm snaked around your waist, holding you up and steady as your boot finally unlocked from its prison. You could see how pleasantly occupied the officer was by your predicament, and grateful as you were to him for the help, it wasn’t in you to outwardly show it. “Don’t you dare laugh.”

That seemed to provoke him further, and while his lip curled into a smile he was kind enough to at least pretend he didn’t find humor in your misgivings. “Relax, okay? I was just helping.” Yet, you obviously didn’t believe him and his explanation only appeared to offend you. There was another string of curses flowing from your lips, and as much as he adored a stubborn woman you were slowly driving him insane. The worst of it? It also kept him going in his mission, knowing he had the company of someone alive and spirited.

“Y/N...” He softly spoke your name, eyes settling on your lips that kept moving and moving with unshakeable resolve to prove yourself. Leon understood that was your defense mechanism at work, but he slowly began to drown out each word until you were pouting up at him and poking his bulletproof vest. He found himself mesmerized for a brief second, noting how passionately you argued and every point in time when your tongue came to wet your lips before speaking again. He should’ve been focused on other things, but you truly just didn’t know when to stop did you?

“Hey,” Leon sighed, smiling when his interruption proved no aid in getting you to stop. “Would you just-“ But, you kept on, intensely gesticulating your point that he had somehow missed in all your haste. Not that it mattered right now, he was still intent on watching the form of your lips move. They were slightly red, perhaps even chapped but still sinfully attractive he had to argue within himself his next tempted move. “Shut up.”

You paused finally, eyes wide as you noted the grin Leon held. He said his part so casually, as if your tirade only moderately inconvenienced him. “What?”

“Just,” Leon pulled you closer, satisfied when you didn’t try to escape his embrace. “Shut up.” He leaned down quickly, knowing time was of the essence but still pleased when he felt the touch of your lips on his. The kiss was subtle at first, the sensation of such an intimate affection being registered by you both. But, after a second he pressed closer, deepening the passion he felt until you caved in his hold.

***

[iesharael-blog]

1/5/19 Happy New Year

ok im gonna be honest... I dont remember the past 5 days other than i’m sick and can barely breath and i mad the mistake of going to the movies with some friends. i wanted to see mary poppins again so me and 4 friends were gonna go, well after we already planned that, one made me really uncomfortable when he was drunk messaging me and not accepting that i did not want a relationship with him. even going so far as to say he hates my ex simply cause he got me first. so im gonna call these friends A B C (as well as D and E to explain backstory) and explain who they are with a little key so i can give the story without being revealing of identities and what not.

Me - [fem] myself. I’ve know them for a little over 20 years and they tend to be a complete child and was treated as the child of friends back in high school and cared for as such. highly susceptible to emotional manipulation especially from people they trust

A - [fem] my best friend since 5th grade who i fondly refer to as my mama bear. my amazing protector of both physical and emotional battle grounds. the very person who’s house i ran to when i needed time away from my parents to figure things out before asking for therapy.

B - [male] twat i met my junior year who i started calling dad at some point and has since become completely unstable. very egotistical and leaves arguments if he isn’t winning constantly playing the victim card.

C - [male] guy who i was randomly introduced to through his younger brother adding him to a discord server i run as an attempt to shut down my ex for daring to call the unholy texts that are The Harry Potter Series “mediocre” (i also have his phone number randomly cause i used to know his twin) and has been friends with B for a while even going so far as to have a running joke of them being in a relationship even tho they are both straight.

D - [fem] B’s ex who i refer to as step mama and who tends to be fairly motherly towards me

E - [male] dude i was friends with in highschool and who was good friends with B

My Ex - [male] still on very good terms and he is very caring towards me. he tries to make sure im doing whats best for me and not letting anyone manipulate or harm me

ok that was bigger than i expected but im sick im not thinking straight so this gonna be a bit weird and long... ok heres the story:

so im all like “hey i wanna see Mary Poppins again!” and B and C are like yeah lets go! with B immediately stating how he had planned to see it with B before they broke up, already putting a slight damper on the thing but we got past it. a day or two after i end up with me and B agreeing (timestamp 9:30) to message on discord between 11-12 as well as set up a server for us and his little sis to play on. (the wait was for him watching doctor who with his family) so i shower and puzzle and finally with no word by 11:42 i message him asking for when he thinks he will be on to which i get the message “I don’t know I’m really drunk it’s gonna be a blast “... and now a transcript of what followed next copied word for word (well privacy edits) time stamps (and spelling errors) included:

ME Last Sunday at 11:44 PM

but i guess mary poppins day discusion will wait for tomorow

me and your sister agreed on doing ftb sky adventers

B Last Sunday at 11:45 PM

Ok

Btw

Hehe

I shouldn’t say it

ME Last Sunday at 11:45 PM

say it

cant say btw then not say it

dick

B Last Sunday at 11:46 PM

Well

Uhm

ME Last Sunday at 11:46 PM

yes?

B  Last Sunday at 11:46 PM

I’m unhappy with [MY EX]

Because I was maybe going to ask you out

I can say this because I’m drunk

ME Last Sunday at 11:47 PM

omg lol (in the this is a funniy situation way, not laughing at you)

thought you were repulesed by me? yeesh [B] keep your story straight

after all i did like you a bit before i met [MY EX], but hes always nice and youre... drunk nice

so eta for server mister cassanova?

B Last Sunday at 11:51 PM

No I want to be nice to you sober too but for some reason I get scared so I hide behind lies

Idk a while

Tonight

ME Last Sunday at 11:51 PM

you dont have to be scared, im just shocking

B Last Sunday at 11:52 PM

Well if we go to Mary poppins

Even with [C], who I’d like to be there

Maybe a mini date?

ME Last Sunday at 11:52 PM

no.

B Last Sunday at 11:52 PM

Aqwww

ME Last Sunday at 11:52 PM

sorry but i cant date again not yet

B Last Sunday at 11:53 PM

I’m gonna be sad

ME Last Sunday at 11:53 PM

i told you why me and [MY EX] broke up

B Last Sunday at 11:53 PM

But when I’m sober I’m going to regret most of this

ME Last Sunday at 11:53 PM

its not good for me to be in a relationship rn

B Last Sunday at 11:53 PM

I know

Well

Actually

ME Last Sunday at 11:54 PM

look if things dont work out with [MY EX] once my brain is on the path to fixed then we will see, until then dont wait up for me

B Last Sunday at 11:54 PM

I think you do need to be with at least someone because when you are depressed and thrown out of it you need someone to relate to and talk and make you feel comforted and loved

Time alone isn’t the answer

ME Last Sunday at 11:55 PM

except i have friends for that hon

B Last Sunday at 11:55 PM

Yeah

You dooo

ME Last Sunday at 11:55 PM

you dont need a relationship relationship

i have a [A]

B Last Sunday at 11:55 PM

Well

Is she helping

Are you loved

ME Last Sunday at 11:55 PM

i talk to her about everything mental

i talk to [IRRELEVANT MALE FRIEND] about physical questions

creepy right? well this kept going with me getting more and more uncomfortable and refusing to accept that i dont want a relationship (a quote from B in reference to my ex: “ He might be your daddy, but I’m your daddy” tf? and yes he bolded) to the point that i was just sticking around so hed put a server up for the pack. then a bit before 2 o’clock i say that im gonna get off at 2 cause that when i had planned to, to which he (im not sure if intentionally) manipulated me into staying on till 3 o’clock because he would tell me about a personal thing i was curious about. finally 3 o’clock comes around, we call and i hear the story and once the server is up he tells me hes gonna go play league with some people (note random online people not irl people he supposedly likes) and will be back in 20 mins. i figure what the hay ill wait. 40 mins later he says hes not getting back on... obviously im furious. (screen shot of convo i sent to someone day of to explain without having to retype - im red)

next day comes and im uncomfortable and C ends up buying minecraft so he can play with me on the server, we get in call with a now sober B when he gets on and i confront him about the messages even sharing screens for proof (i learned its best not to 1v1 argue him cause im easy to manipulate) and he claims to not remember it but whenever C is away during the call he says things that sound slightly suggestive. at this point id like to note that i have a full recording of me scrolling through the messages as an unlisted video on my youtube channel and have sent it to people who with no prior suggestion have described it as “rapey” and warned me against him. my ex in particular warned me that i am very susceptible to an abusive relationship rn due to my mental state and that he seemed very unstable. at this i decided to invite A to go to mary poppins too since she would be a good protector of me should anything happen and to have a more familiar presence there. 

now here is the juicy part. so D was talking to C where C was complaining how clingy B was becoming and how creepy he was being towards me so she quickly messages me on snap warning me that he is a ‘manipulative possessive jerk who will see me as nothing but an object to conquer and get mad when you are unhappy’ after hearing this i rembered B’s story about D cheating on him with E before D and E got together and started to wonder how true that was. me and D had a lovely conversation following that about my singular past relationship and her current one and blah blah blah.

MOVIE DAY: (C canceled the night before so now it is just me B and A going) we get picked up by A and all seems well with everyone being friendly and B seeming kinda cautious. i think hes regretting the convo so i decide to be nice. the movie was great and we decide to hang in the mall after (i made a build a bear). so while we were hanging at one point he scared me when after he provoked me into my light face wacks (cat play pretty much, wouldnt damage the most fragile ice) he grabs my hand to stop me and me thinking “oooo game fun!” i start to dig my nail into his hand to get let go of but instead of him reacting how i expected (letting go so i can escape) he looks at me with the scariest most serious face ive ever seen and (this part still scares me) says “you dont want to go down this path” he finally lets go and i go sit by the hot topic earing displays while A and B look at buttons then when B sits next to me while A waits to pay he basically called my claw abuse. (like what? you grab my hand hard enough that it hurt when i was doing the same playful banter weve done for years and apparently im the abuser cause i do my standard get away strategy of hurting the hand thats holding me? what did you expect me to do? just comply and calmly stand there with my hand held above y head in yours?) after we leave hottopic we are in the car and somehow we get to the topic of the drunk conversation.

so im talking and trying to explain how uncomfortable he made me( and how i was afraid to be alone around him and how i had been scared remembering that he not only knows where i live but where the spare key is!!!!) and i dare use the word “rapey” ... lets see if i can get a definition for yall but first ill say how i use that word - “rapey. an adjective to describe a situation in which one party becomes uncomfortable and afraid to the point that they feel if this continues they could be raped or otherwise hurt/abused in the future” - and now the second definition from urban dictionary:  “Rapey A guy who's creepy, and hugs or kisses inappropriately. He has a rapist lure. You don't think he would do it but definitely gives off that vibe. i.e. creepy hugger at the office.” - now i apparently  made a huge error in daring to use that word to describe the conversation where he would not accept me saying no to a relationship (and at one point asked me my ex’s dick size - which i did not give) and continously stated how using words liek that could end up getting him in jail. A and i look at eachother incredulously and try to argue with him a bit but ultimately decide to just get back to the point and bring it back to how uncomfortable i was and how he needs to change his attitude and appologize but he keeps bringing it back to that word. fianlly im close to tears and mutely hugging my yoshi in the front seat and the whole car goes silent. A offers that i sleep over tonight which i decline knowing im sick and need my bed and we talk a bit about my ex and goign out for ramen with him sometime. once i was home i removed B from discord snap and steam and will remove him next time im on league as well. he was removed from my server and i left any i had in common with him. i am done trying to forgive him.

on a brighter note i got sims 4 cause C bought it for me since i couldn't refund his ticket i prepaid for and im learning how to get better from this stupid dry throat. hopefully ill be better by Tuesday so i can go back to work at the library!

thanks for reading! <3 

i know this was a long one and probably makes half sense cause of the code letters and the fact that i am writing this while very light headed <3

[survivorcordillerablanca]

Episode 6 Confessionals

I mean I didn't make the idol play. But um #LUKEDIDTHAT. Love he did that. But Lexi self voting??? Ruining Luke's plan of getting someone out? ICONIC!! Poor Lexi is prob going to go home lol. But I'm happy the idol I found did something but sad that its now gone and a new one? might be able to be found for those  4 remaining.

One more fake swap / fake merge and I'm going to vote myself off this island.

So iconically, Luke idolled, which i'm happy about. I'm NOT happy about Ryan being voted out considering I was kind of wanting to play a game with him. It also doesn't make sense considering... he's tried in every challenge, and has helped out the tribe greatly imo, but then again - we don't know the social dynamics and tribe outlook on their tribe. Carson told me he found an idol, and i'm superbly excited. Will he use it on me? Likely not. But it's still good to know we have it in OUR possession, and i'm not planning on leaking a word. The fact that he told me is satisfying though, and I do truly feel as if he's my #1 in the game right now. The challenge? Pass. It's something... logic puzzles are... awful (yet a little fun at times, sure). The cup thing... whomst... and the counting? I'm fairly triggered. I'm going to likely sit out because i'm busy today and I just couldn't care or want to do ANY of that. also why is there no SWAP!

Last tribal was fun with my idol play but Lexi made it less iconic with the self vote but that was completely understandable since she has a lot going on personally and I hope she's okay <3 It worked well in the sense that Jordan and Jay can still convince Lexi that they just had to do what they had to do with the tie and they saved her over Ryan. I compleTELY FUCKED UP THE COUNTING PART OF THE CHALLENGE WHICH I WAS ALREADY EH ABOUT DOING SINCE IT'S THE WORST BUT EUUURGH I MESSED UP. I'm hoping that we can win but if we don't then I hope I can trust Jay and Jordan enough to keep our 3 alliance strong and just vote our Lexi unanimously providing she doesn't have an idol or anything like that. I'll make an update after results...

Can you believe we win again? If we merge, it's gonna be 7-3. What a time to be alive!!! 

WHEWWWW i searched Mancos for the idol bc of my idol clue i got and i fucking found the idol and wow... i decided to tell Zach because I definitiely wanna nurture a relationship with him (love him so much) and we're a dynamic duo for sure!! i only talk to hi9m though and i def gotta fix that. playing this game AND another game at once is just a bit much but im still doing my best.

OKAY IM SCREAMING HOW DID I EVEN GET ANOTHER REWARD?? Idk how many rewards there have been in total bc I forgot but I've gotten 3 and didn't do 1 bc it was too risky but like what the heck how is this even happening?? I'm shook 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W5g0x_0uPJo

WE WON IMMUNITY YESSS!!! going into the final 10 7-3 is definitiely amazing and im assuming luke goes on the other tribe. im fine with that bc it seems like everyone on my tribe is close to luke, so theyll be closer to me if hes gone!! im definitiely enjoying this tribe but like.. where does everyone stand?? who knows. we havent gone to a tribal since eric combusted and i dont know where i stand. i trust zach and i kinda trust bryce even if we dont talk strategy but idk where everyone else stands. katie truists me i think, but idk if i talk to her enough for it to be a FULL trust between us?? shes probably the one i trust the most after the other 2. charlotte is... whew?? she hates zach im pretty sure so like... idk about that personally. shes a good player and also like... idk i just dont talk to her as much as the other returnees. willow is cool and shes super nice but we NEVER talk strategy and also she like gave tons of info to eric allegedly then voted him out so idk if i can trust that rlly but like  thats a bit hypocritical bc i kinda used him too. i need to try talking more strategy with her. and chris... we talk and they're pleasant conversations but like willow, i dont talk strategy enough with him. plus hes a good game player from what ive seen in this game?? i know hes busy so i just gotta start getting a bit more out of him. my social game has def been slipping and if i dont get it up, im looking at a merge boot status bc tbh? i think im a pretty big threat. ideally, jordan pines is merge boot, then we can use lexi/jay to possibly get out some of our tribe, maybe charlotte?? on second thought i could use jordan for that too but like.. i dont trust jordan lmao. IDEALLY, id like a boot order of... f10: jordan f9: charlotte f8: lexi f7: willow f6: chris f5: jay f4: bryce f3: katie/zach, depends on who i think i can win easier against?? then ideally a final 2 of me winning. but survivor is always changing, so nothing is for sure. thats just how id LIKE it to happen, but nothing is gonna happen exactly so ill just pray!!

We lost immunity...again...shocker! Jay approached me earlier to potentially blindside Jordan and get him out since he's a huge threat at the upcoming merge but ultimately decided that using his connection with Katie and his reputation as a meat shield would be to our advantage since we're both winners and that is enough to get people to target us. It feels weird working this closely with Jay. If we merge next then plan to get Katie using Jordan, Carson using Jay and Zach using myself and then add Charlotte into the group and we should have a strong group. I also want to find out who gave me the immunity idol so I can first of all thank them, second of all ask them why and third if all work with them. I just hope I'm not being screwed by Jay the same way he was trying to screw Pines. 

Confessional #1 this round: Fuck ulta, i hate this tribe, i want to leave, ryan palmer let me go home

I accidently self voted last round and it tied between me and ryan because luke used an idol. so they voted ry out and i cried alittle. thats about all. 

Confessional #2- Rip Lexi, this is wrong, how the fuck are we gonna be at 3 players, after this wtf they have an entire tribe waiting to fight us

Im so happy we won again to be able to go into a merge with 7-3 majority maybe and a 4 person group into the 10 person game! Things are going well

Wish I can find the idol and hope luke doesnt go out either here

bye lexi! honestly like... idk. all newbies on their tribe are gone, it's so funny. im anticipating merge! or a swap.. or something. its 7v3 for crying out loud! im not sure what my move is going forward, but i think im confident. just kidding, i'm likely leaving. this is a bs conf but i may make one tomorrow hehe

haha I beat Jay

wow can't believe I'm this seasons challenge beast

We're really that tribe that's completely decimating everything.

I've been out all day and I see that they voted out Lexi. Every tribal that Jordan pines makes it through makes me even more nervous about getting to a merge with him around. We didn't have a good history in our last game but I'm hoping that there are more people around with bad blood with him so I can kinda just get by without getting any shots fired at me. I just want to go into a merge already. None of this potential "tribe swap" to make things even for one more round. I usually get fucked in a swap and I'd rather not have history repeat itself.

Over the course of the past week or so, i've been attempting to mend things with Charlotte. She's the only person that I feel like would be dead set on getting rid of me, so to weaken that desire would be sufficient. I also want to work on Katie and Chris a bit more so that the newbies (since i'm already decent with Willow, I believe) would be more loyal to me. I need opportunities! As for the pending upcoming merge or swap, i'm not ready. I would hope the 7 Ulta stay together for a BIT or something, like vote out Jordan. I'm semi-close with Jay and Luke, so would I want to vote them out right away? Well, in the wise words of Jay - absolutely not. But I would if I had to. I'd be more lenient with voting Jay since i'm now developing a friendship with Luke (because of another ORG) and I really like him, he's a cool kid. Him and I have NEVER worked together in past ORGs so if we manage to survive and make it on a tribe together, it'll be something refreshing. Carson's still my favourite though. He's a social god and it's scary. The kid has school from like 7-3pm and still finds more time to message me somehow or someway. It's... wildt. I trust him to an extent and him and I both have agreed that like we'll go far but obviously we are bale to betray one another if essential to our own game. I likely won't make it that far though RIP. I told him i'd be his lapdog, despite the tag of the season o.O Bryce. I didn't mention him yet. He's cool, him and I rarely talk but I think he's overall a great person. I'd like to talk to him more but our last conversation felt dull and I can't force a convo (not his fault, communication is indeed a two way street.) Nonetheless, it's something I may have to work on for my game. Also lowkey it's so funny because two tribals ago, you provoked the question regarding returnees and newbies, and here are some facts: - Ryan asked you to stop shoving it down his throat. He got voted out consequently. Iconic, right? - All newbies on their side are eliminated - All the boots in the game in general are newbies (with the exception of my Bahamas representative Willa...RIP good soul. The good die young!) So basically a returnee will win this game. It might be slightly worrying to Katie/Willow/Chris and they may want to extend and form bonds with OG Copa so that they have backup, because obviously there's a trend with voting out the newbies. Anyway, this is my third confessional this round... more than expected hehe hope you enjoy! P.S look at this rude ass message: On 2017-09-14, at 6:36 PM, carson wrote: > Use the Golden Rope to hang urself please HSDGNISDGNDS It was so funny I choked bye now

I seriously thought I was being screwed this round because I didn't think Jay would flip on Lexi but he did and I'm still here! 5 votes against me and I'm still here which is great!! There are only 3 of us left on Copa and we're an alliance so if we don't swap/merge and lose immunity then....it's going to suck. I think maybe I'd be in the middle? But equally Jordan and Jay have known each other a lot longer than they've known me so they might see me as disposable and get rid of me which I hope isn't the case. I really wanna merge and go work with Zach, Charlotte and Carson who I know and think I could work well with. Also Bryce, a newbie from last season, someone who I'd be interested in hooking up with in this game and working with!

So I got another advantage which is lit, I guess all these advantages are making up for kvaloya, anyway who knows how I'm gonna be able to explain the randomized vote?

Okay so like I just realized I'm in another game with Eric. And I kinda led the charge to get him voted out so I'm trying to win immunity otherwise he is totally killing me so sorry this is a terrible confessional but I'm STRESSING. 

If we don't merge I'm so incredibly fucked