#idk if i really like the guy that much???

[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.”

[alllgator-blood]

'THE UNPAYABLE DEBT THAT I OWE YOU'

(part 5/5)

Congratulations! Congratulations!! Congratulations, kallamar!!!

Your day off shall consist of your sleep deprived brain making you believe that the last 100 years were an elaborate prank devised by satan himself, rather than your irl family being disappointed in you for not living up to ungodly high expectations.

I have my rescheduled spinal procedure coming up on friday so I'm not gonna be able to draw for a short period, but there's some REALLY good asks in my inbox about this comic so I'll see if I can do those before the big day. Every time I do a big angst comic I'm kinda blown away by the response, I keep saying it but genuinely it means the world to me when I see people giving their thoughts on my art like this. For this specific comic I've gotten multiple asks, tons of comments/tags, a couple drawings and even a short fic??? Like I lose the ability to speak I get so flustered. I love these characters a lot so I'm just happy I can make something of them that resonates so much with people.

Kallamar is definitely getting a rest from angst after this, idk when I'll be up for another one of these long ones but you guys will know cause I'll put up a poll again >:)

[followerofmercy]

This is also a good point - key note that that people have a REASON to dislike him, which is that he talks shit about people constantly.

I personally haven't experienced much drawback to being on friendly terms with the Office Asshat, though? Especially by being Generally Friendly and Personable to everyone, I end up with a reputation as The Guy We Can Get to Talk to The Office Asshat So We Don't Have to, which is another valuable skill alfs;dkj. Become the neutral party

Some people do look at who you casually associate with and make assumptions based on that, but in my experience, unless you're ANNOUNCING that you, idk, went to Racist Joe's Klan meeting and had a great time and start defending them, people don't think much of who you're on friendly terms with. There are limits, ofc, but they're kinda extreme limits

The people that do keep obsessive tabs on other people... also tend to have bad reputations because that behavior is very annoying and untrustworthy asl;dfj. Same way I give people a sideeye when they dig up something someone posted six years ago as proof they're homophobic or whatever. Becky, yes, that tweet was problematic but he's been married to his husband for two years now. I think you need to let it go. Maybe get a more constructive hobby. Join a union. Mutual Aid organization. Something. Please.

However, and I think this is what the tags are actually trying to say but I tagged this autism for a reason and enjoy yapping: normal people WILL notice if you hang out with assholes - especially if you start picking up habits or turns of phrase from them. I had a coworker who I thought was totally chill even when he hung out with the generally annoying Asshat misogynist (who I was also the crowd-designated Handler of because I could tolerate his miserable existence lmao). I really liked Chill Guy. And then, one day, for no goddamn reason, Formerly Chill Guy and Asshat started shittalking their wives and daughters for the crime of... wanting to spend time with them/talking too much. Instant -10 respect. To this day I think less of both of them.

Networking/Knowing A Guy: A Guide

This is the autism website. Now, as an extension of the power of love and friendship, there are few things more useful than Knowing A Guy. Knowing A Guy means you have a support network. Knowing a plumber, or a tax accountant, or just that one dude that's really fucking good at finding the information you need when you're really overwhelmed, can be the difference between being able to pay rent and having a fun party with friends to fix your shit.

How does one end up Knowing A Guy? It's a skill you can develop called Networking and it is one of the foundations of society. Unfortunately making those connections with people is fucking hard and nobody makes a tutorial for it. So, here you go:

The golden rule is you scratch my back and I scratch yours

It is necessary for survival to seek out useful people

Great news! Everyone is useful in some form or fashion - including you! When given the opportunity to learn about someone, do it! Extroversion does not come naturally to some people and that's okay. Just take whatever falls in your lap.

Types of usefulness: trade skills, connections of their own, personality you jive with, pleasant to talk to, niche interest in shared hobby, security - the list is pretty much endless. I know a guy that lives in the metro area - no job, no major hobbies, inoffensively annoying to me personally, kinda ignorant, not attractive to me, but you know what? He knows how the fuck to get around the city by foot. My rural-raised ass APPRECIATES the guide.

Remember important information: general personality, background, skillset, likes and dislikes. You can find this information by making smalltalk about their life. There is no such thing as pointless conversation. (Yes, even the annoying smalltalk)

The more people you know, the higher the likelihood that one of them will be useful in a given situation - or will know someone who is.

It is overwhelming. In a given clique/community/workspace/whatever, there is A Guy Who Knows The Other Guys. This Guy is a shortcut. Find them. They're often elderly, extroverted, a little bit annoying, a secretary or in some otherwise forward-facing position. Look for people that are gossipy/talk about other people a lot but not in negative ways. If they constantly talk shit, they'll talk shit about you too. They're still useful but be careful with the information you share

You do not have to like someone for them to be useful.

You do not have to like someone for them to be useful.*

If you have low self esteem, you're going to feel like you're using people. You're not. That's the devil talking. People like feeling valued and the connections you are making are the threads holding community together. Recognize people for their talents. It's only a problem when you're taking advantage of people

So: don't feel scummy about it. You're an animal. You have to claw out your right to survive and people will respect you more for it.

Luckily mutualism is the name of the game in the animal kingdom. Offer something back. The foundation of a Know A Guy relationship is Mutual Benefit

Sometimes that Mutual Benefit is just spreading news of the The Guy far and wide. My plumber friend is my actual friend and I love her to death, but I'm maintaining our backscratch relationship by pimping out her plumbing business to anyone that'll listen

Food is a good Mutual Benefit. People across cultures for all of human history have bonded over food. I have good success asking people for a favor and then offering to buy them lunch in return **

General compensation is also good. Offer a service in return and always do your best to offer financial compensation as appropriate. Having your plumber friend take a look at your drain: doable with a case of beer. Having your plumber friend redo the pipes in your entire house? You need to pay for that.

Being transactional is not necessarily a bad thing. I would advise against keeping an itemized list of things owed, but fish don't seek out cleaner shrimp just because they enjoy their company. Everyone gets something

Unfortunately being extroverted and generally personable is a huge benefit here, but that's the value of the Guy That Knows A Guy. There's someone out there that has consolidated All The Guys so you don't have to be the local expert. Always remember nobody can do everything and you don't need to master every skill

* This is the foundation of a functioning community. I have many acquaintances that I find incredibly annoying. They include doctors, welders, artists, social workers, lawyers, construction crew and random fuckers at the grocery store. I do not hang out with them. I do not have to in order to maintain a civil Know A Guy relationship. I can drop them useful tidbits and fuck right off so I don't have to spend any more time than necessary with them

** People may assume romantic intent. Be prepared for that. I generally denote that it's a friendly/work lunch by calling them bro at some point if they're my age. Otherwise my general demeanor is sufficient to show that I do this with everyone

Source: personal experience, mother's teachings of crime, booth vending and poverty

[shigayokagayama]

im so torn how i feel about teru's epilogue haircut in the anime because like. on one hand you have the symbolism of it. his hair starts off very messy, but when we're given a look at his morning routine we're able to see that he is deliberately messing it up to maintain an appearance, much in the way he puts on this self confident tough guy persona to mask deep insecurity. after getting it shaved off and losing that persona, he replaces it with a wig (fun fact: big wig means someone important! idk if this is intentional or not bc i dont know if the phrase has a similar meaning in japanese but it is a fun visual pun in english at least) that is meant to sort of hide the imperfections of his messy past, and then after losing THAT wig along with his realization that the person he's been trying to model his life off is just as imperfect as he is, he grows out his natural hair again and keeps it neat in a style that he would have to really put in the effort to maintain.

on the other hand after that episode is i was fighting for my life to defend that hair style then closed my laptop, looked in the mirror, and realized i had the exact same hair cut.

[thegoogoomuckkk]

Can I get a smau about them finding out you were a jujitsu sorcerer? Like you’ve been dating 4 years and you just casually drop it out of nowhere. Like a REALL strong one too (stronger than SUKUNA strong) ps. Let me be delusional pls😍

NOW PLAYING

SECRETS

them finding out you're actually a jujutsu sorcerer

Starring: choso kamo, kento nanami, kiyotaka ijichi, satoru gojo, suguru geto, takuma ino

Warnings! none

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ok, first of all: thank you for this phenomenal request!!!! I love fulfilling requests, regardless of what they are because I just love interacting with you guys & sharing my writing with y'all, but it's always so fun & amazing to get a request that I'm so genuinely excited to fulfill & that inspires me as a creator, so thank you!!!

secondly: I kind of took the request & ran with it. I had a hard time coming up with a solution to like, why would they not know about it if they were dating, like that's an odd secret to keep?? So I originally planned on making this a pre-relationship kind of situation, but I have such a hard time with that, I always feel like anytime I try to create something like that it's so cringey & forced, idk??? So I'm sorry if this isn't exactly what you were asking for!

third: you'll notice the cast list for this smau is somewhat different than previous ones. I don't plan on keeping the same exact people or number of people in rotation for each post. When it comes to smau or writing in general, the last thing I want to do is force myself to create something. I typically don't add suguru to my smaus, but I felt like he really fit within this one & I had an idea for him. I didn't include any of the non-sorcerer characters because that made the most sense to me. In the future, if you'd like me to include a specific character (like suguru or sukuna, for example, who aren't in all of my smaus), just let me know; otherwise, it might be a mixed bag.

okay, fourth & final thing: this maybe only occurred to me, & if so, yay! but the whole time I was making this, I kept thinking that if this actually happened, they would probably never choose to have this conversation with you over text, & they'd probably have a much larger reaction. Those kinds of things are pretty difficult to capture in a 3-4 screenshot smau, if you know what I mean. Plus, angst is really not my bag at all; I wish it was & maybe I'll write more of it in the future, but not today.

xoxo, carlisle!

LOOKING FOR SOME MORE? MASTERLIST <3

LOOKING FOR SOMETHING SPECIFIC? ASK <3

[extinct-muppet]

The same thing happens in books! I read a book that may have been written by a queer person? but just felt like terf rhetoric. It reduced trans guys down to horny assholes who hate everyone because we're trans men. (or trans. or men. really just everything about us)

Idk if this was intentional or even if I'm reading too much into this but the main character (trans) acted so much like an antagonist to the other main character (cis) (not told from his pov)

i’ve been working my way through a list of movies with trans men in them, and while i haven’t seen enough to really call this a pattern, i can’t help but notice that the movies i’ve watched so far portray trans men in a very particular way.

specifically, all of the trans guys are dicks.

the movies have decided that trans manhood is such a horrible, miserable existence that it leaves trans men as horrible and miserable people, and that because we’re so tortured, we must lash out and take it out on the people around us.

maybe the characters are mean because they’re dysphoric. maybe they’re trying to act the way they think real men act. maybe they’re trying to keep people away because they’ve been hurt before. maybe they’re being actively hurt by the countless transphobes in the movie and trying to protect themselves. the reason doesn’t actually matter — it changes from movie to movie and scene to scene. but no matter what the situation is, the movies want us to know that a trans man would react to that situation by being an asshole to everyone around him.

sure, the characters are somewhat humanized by the fact that we know why they’re so mean, but it’s clearly not meant to be something we see as justified. we’re supposed to pity them, if anything, not actually understand them.

and don’t get me wrong — i fully support trans men’s wrongs. i think we should be allowed to be angry and bitter and unpleasant. but i think we should be allowed to be happy too, and it really rubs me the wrong way that these trans men only seem to be allowed happiness when a cis person falls in love with them (or, in one case, after top surgery magically fixes them).

it sort of feels like the writers heard the word dysphoria and thought it must just be a synonym for hysteria.

[rebelssvy]

fuck buddy

ushijima x reader

- just a thought i had!

pure smut, sex.

sometimes his practice was just too hard. playing at a professional level is just soooo competitive. of course it was never that difficult for him. but it can be frustrating sometimes.

he just never gets that much time alone. having a high level of pent up tension within him. he’s a quiet guy and doesn’t let it show that much. well, that is untill he met you.

you came to one of his games and you stood out among the fans. he noticed you in a heart beat. but after the game was over and nothing happened. he chose to walk his separate way from you.

well until you ran into the professional at a coffee shop. it was sudden. and even crazier when he came up to you and said,

“you came to my game, correct?”

it left you in shock that he approached you first.

ever since then you guys have gone out a couple times. once it became more of a routine,things often would get escalated and result in sex.

bad practice? he’s coming over to fuck.

coach yelled at him? he just wants to see you.

he messed up a receive? he’s making you cum on his thigh.

and so here you were, getting pounded by him doggy style because they lost a non league game. of course the game didn’t really matter. but losing was losing. and ushijima hated losing.

he kept mumbling on about how he played good enough that they should’ve won. and how his teammates made to many mistakes.

“ushiiiii! i can’t- keep going” you screamed out. you had already came once and your second was approaching fast.

he’s usually more vanilla then anything. but today somthing awoke in him. you were clawing at your sheets. practically drooling against the fabric.

he suddenly flipped you around and started pounding you in a new position. missionary, except he had your legs pressed to your chest.

“oh my god” you moaned out to him.

“i’m so sorry dear i just- i can’t help my self right now.” he grunted out pushing himself in and out of you.

“it’s ok-!” you scream out again. bringing one of your hands to his wrist and the other to your clit.

once he notices the circles your rubbing into yourself he swats your hand away to do it himself.

you start clenching yourself around him. breath getting sucked out of your lungs.

“oh yea, goood girl.” he says while feeling you clench around his length.

your orgasm hits you like a truck. your legs wrap around his torso. making him his your deepest angle.

he lets out some grunts before pulling out.

and then he does somthing he’s never done before…

he finishes on your face

still fucked out of it, you don’t even realize when he’s done.

with a low guttural groan he says.

“so pretty”

……………………………………………………………………………

- ushijima brainrot.

- this might’ve been a little much idk. i’m going insane

- he eventually asks you to be his gf don’t worry

[ajellybee]

Tamed: Sukuna x Fem!Reader

⟢ CW!!: NSFW MDNI, 3.8k words, not proofread, excuse typos.. Freak frat boy Sukuna, virgin fem reader, college au, attempts of plot, no protection WRAP IT UP CHAT!!!, first time, cunnilingus, girl idk if thats all. You get the idea!! Virgin pussy so good you domesticated your whore of a best friend.

⟢🐝notes: this is my first time trying to do like, a full-fleshed fic so it might be a little rough…hope you enjoy tho!!! 

The HC that this was based off of here!

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“Hey, girl. You’re Sukuna’s friend right”. Not only has this girl been your lab partner all semester, but you guys also shared classes freshman year. You rolled your eyes because you know what’s coming next. Sukuna and you have been friends since junior year of high school. You got stuck with him for a project and you guys kind of just stuck. Sukuna also has a reputation for himself, being the class whore, even in high school, but since you guys started college it's gotten..so much worse. Even when he was a freshman the senior girls wanted a piece of him. 

You on the other hand were not as familiar in his field of expertise. Sure there were boyfriends here and there but you never went ALL the way, they were too eager to get their dicks wet and didn't care anything about your pleasure, so the virginity is still intact!! 

“Yes I know him, no he doesn’t want you, he’s with someone” It wasn't an entire lie. He was always down for a good fuck and he changes girls like clockwork, but he mentioned “scoring a hottie” earlier. The girl’s smile and friendly attitude towards you disappeared as if it was never there. Really it was annoying, dealing with your best friend’s shit. At this point, he needs to make announcements when he’s ready for the next girl. 

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“Sukuna I swear to every god out there, if one more girl approaches me trying to get in your pants, I'm killing you and them myself” He’s lying across your dorm bed scrolling through his phone. When he is not on his freak nasty agenda, he could be found in your room. You were able to score a single and he isn’t all too fond of his roommate. Seemingly not really listening to you he continues to scroll, causing you to kick his side. He thought it was funny, cute almost, how upset you got over this. It was the same argument every other week. He just wishes it came from a place of jealousy not inconvenience. 

“Woman I have no control over that. Not my fault this dick makes them crazy” he smirks at you making you scoff.

“God you're disgusting...get off my covers you’re dirty” you playfully(kind of) try and kick him off the foot of your bed. He quickly grabs your feet and pins them under his body, not budging despite your attempts to pull them free. 

“Don't be grouchy cuz you haven't gotten laid yet, brat” 

“Girl you fuck enough for the both of us, and like five more people. I’m good, trust.” You put emphasis on the last bit as you finally tug your feet free. “freak…”

“Anyways, look this was the girl I was telling you about” He shows you an Instagram page on his phone. Sukuna looked for any flash of jealousy in your face, but you gave him nothing. You used to like him back in High school, but liking him hurt too much. With every new girl and every story he’d tell you of said girl ripped away at you. To protect yourself you buried that feeling way way WAY deep down and you're fine with your relationship as it is now. Now you were indifferent, it's his life. Whatever. 

“Oh she’s pretty, how long is this one gonna last tho” 

“Don't know. She’s fine as fuck so maybe two weeks?” Again, no reaction to his statement, at least not the one he wanted. Sukuna? oh sukuna wanted you bad, but you never showed interest, if anything it felt like the opposite, and he didn't want to mess up what he did have with you, so he never pushed. 

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For the next couple of days you've been, unwillingly, thinking about sex. Blame ovulation or blame the overwhelming talk of sex in your friend group ever since your best friend lost her virginity. But you really saw no point in trying again, with how disappointing and unwilling all your past intimate (if you can even call it that) experiences have been. The talk you had with Gojo didn’t help either. You made a small comment and he poked and prodded until you spilled everything, even the part that you’ve been craving that experience. 

“Well, you could ask Toji, You know that one senior. I heard he loves virgins!” That’s what the idiot told you, sure was a joke, but it could work. Toji, much like sukuna, has a reputation for being a campus whore, but his favorite go-to-girls, were virgins. He always boasted about all the V-cards he took, and how good he was at it, ruining them for their future partners. But what has also been running through your mind was what Shoko told you.

“It would be better if you had sex with someone you trust?”

“You’ve been friends with Sukuna for a long time, no? Why not him?” suguru added.  You sat on that for a long time too. Sukuna was your best friend, and you do trust him. From the stories he’s told you himself you wouldn’t be left disappointed. The thing is, Sukuna never showed interest in you, strictly platonic. Sure he never gave up the chance of a good fuck, but with you being a virgin or him not seeing you in that light because of your friendship, the “what ifs” drove you insane, but after much deliberation, you came up with a conclusion, and hey, the worst he could do is say no. You got to your dorm and built up the courage to call him.

“Oh?? I thought you were avoiding me. You miss me now?” you could hear the annoying smirk on his face. 

“You know what never mind” you were ready to hang up, deciding on plan B, but as you pulled your phone away he interrupted.

“Okay okay, what's up?” Sukuna always dropped whatever he was doing for you, even if that meant not hooking up with the girl he was telling you about. He quickly pushed her out ignoring all her protests and angry huffs. Maybe you saved him cuz her whining was pissing him off.

“Can you come over?” Your face burned knowing what you were going to ask once he got there. You were determined to get it over with, and you had a plan B if he said no. no biggy no biggy… you just need to ask your best friend to fuck you. 

Sukuna arrived at your door quicker than you expected (he was already on his way to your dorm before you even asked him to go over). Opening the door, you let him in and he immediately got comfortable sitting on the edge of your bed.

“Okay, so what's up?” He’s pretending to be normal about it. But with the way you sounded over the phone he was thinking a million things and expecting nothing at the same time, but what you would say next will stop his heart. 

“Let me speak, no interruptions.” You waited for confirmation, catching on Sukuna nodded and waited for you to continue. It was like floodgates opened the way you confessed “Okay good. So… I want to lose my virginity. And, and I trust you the most out of everyone I know. It's okay if you say no, I won't take it to heart and besides, I have a plan B so it’s totally, totally fine.” it didn't feel as bad once you finished, although you didn't mean to add that last part. What happens, happens. You're comfortable with your relationship with sukuna so this should mean nothing to him, so you thought. Sukuna on the other hand, was not feeling the same relief, well he was until you mentioned a plan B.

“Plan B? And who the fuck is that” he stood up towering over you, eyebrow arched. 

“Oh well, gojo told me about Toji..you know him” The way he looked down on you was doing something, you felt something you hadn’t felt from another person in a while, Arousal. 

“Gojo is an idiot don't ever take advice from him” Sukuna regained a little of his composure after recalling your words. So he was plan A? “So you want me to fuck you, baby?” his hands found their way to your waist, pulling you to his chest. He liked the way you looked up at him. 

“Yes..” it came out barely a whisper, but sukuna wasn't having that.

“Sorry? What was that?” he leaned his ear down towards you. Oh so he’s gonna tease? You should have known.

“damn it.. Fuck, Yes, Sukuna. I want you” The words came out so breathy and desperate it surprised you. Sukuna noticed it as well and that fueled him even more as he slid his hands under your shirt and up your back. His warm hands felt like fire across your skin. He pushed you flush against his chest as his lips brushed against yours, breath fanning your face. 

“You gonna undress or do you want me to do it for you” a snicker left his lips as he watched you pout.

“Kuna be nice…” but nonetheless you stepped back and slowly peeled off each article of clothing, revealing more and more to sukuna. The tightening in his pants became more apparent once he saw you completely bare. He knew you'd be beautiful, but this level of imperfection felt illegal. Every peak and curve of yours looked so plush and soft, he wanted to kiss every inch of you. He wanted to caress your hips and feel as the goosebumps rose on your skin. But it wasn’t like him to voice all of that. Approaching you again, he leaned down and brushed his lips on yours again, but this time he kisses you. 

“Nice rack” Ignoring the sarcastic response you gave him in return, he reaches up to cup one of your breasts feeling the weight of it. His thumb brushed over your pebbling nipple, and the soft sigh you left out was better than he ever imagined. Sukuna pulled you towards your bed, making you lay back on your pillows. He pulled your thighs apart, but you quickly snapped them shut. “Well, how will you lose your V-card like that, let me see baby?” he slapped your thigh lightly urging you to open up again. Once you do he groans as you spread your lips for him, already so wet there were strings of arousal connecting. The two of you stayed like that for a while, you spreading yourself for him and Sukuna watching every twitch and clench. “Have any of them made you cum before?” you shake your head. He wanted to hunt them all down, but that’s for another time. “Have you ever made yourself cum?” you nod. “Then show me, sweetness.” he leans back on his heels. Sukuna had dreamed of being in this situation for so long, he’s going to make the most of it. 

“Kuna…I-” he raises his eyebrow at you again waiting for you to follow instructions. As instructed you brought one hand to circle around your clit. The way his eyes focused on the way you circled your bundle of nerves made even more slick drip from your pussy. You brought your other hand up to pinch and pull on one of your hardened nipples. Sukuna couldn't help but palm at his bulge, the ache too much to ignore as you sped up. 

“Put your fingers inside” he urged nearly drooling

“But that's never felt good when they did it” you whine moving your fingers faster. You were already close like this. Between the feeling of your own fingers and the way he watched, was enough to send you over the edge, but that was cut short. Sukuna huffed and slapped your hand away. The feeling of your orgasm depleting ripped a sob from your throat, but you were quickly shut up by one of his fingers prodding at your hole. 

“I'm not them” and with that he ducked his head between your thighs and watched the way your cunt sucked his finger in, just begging for another. He grew dizzy with the sweet musk that was coming from you. Sukuna could not believe he was face to face with what he dreamed about. His lips made their way to your pulsating bulb, giving it gentle kisses before enveloping it completely and giving you a harsh suck. You've never been touched like this before and this new sensation sent electricity throughout your whole body. Why didn’t you ask Sukuna to do this sooner? The rumors about him were true. 

“K-Kunaa, moree. M-more” your back arched so prettily for him when he added another finger, saying something about “yer greedy cunt” but the pleasure he was giving you was so overwhelming you couldn’t really focus on anything. He moved away from your clit down to get a taste of you, thumbing at your bundle of nerves while finally getting a taste of your honey pot. The groans he let out went straight to your cunt making you ooze more, earning more groans of approval. 

“Mm, you taste so sweet~. Can't believe it took so long for me to get a taste” he watched your face contort into that of pleasure and he wanted so badly to sink inside you, but he was enjoying being between your thighs too much to quit now. As soon as he started to fuck his tongue inside of your hole he couldn’t help but rut his hips against your sheets. The taste of you was making sukuna absolutely drunk. Never in his life has some pussy made him so desperate to nearly cream in his own boxers. He made mental notes of every reaction you had, recording every twitch and shiver you had to memory. 

You heard stories but you didn’t know just how messy of an eater he was. The sounds of him devouring you were so sinful and embarrassing, but the sound of him slurping and lapping at your cunt brought you closer and closer to cloud nine. If it wasn't for the vice grip you had on Sukuna’s pink locks or the way he pinned you down by your thighs you fear you’d simply float away. And oh when he locked eyes with you as he pinched your clit you saw a glimpse of the pearly gates. Your thighs clamped around his head as he drank everything you gave him. He continued to lap at your twitching pussy pushing you towards overstimulation.  If sukuna had it his way he would have spent another three hours with his face buried in your cunt, but you were desperately trying to push his head away with soft moans of “kuna please”.  Reluctantly he parted away from you with a kiss to your clenching hole and sat back on his knees admiring his handy work. Your pussy was a wet mess of your slik and his spit and oh did it make his dick jump with the way you lazily palmed at your breast, pupils completely blown as you wait for what you wanted, what you needed from him. 

“S-sukuna that was ssoo good” You watched as he whipped your remaining juices off his mouth and chin smirking wildly.

“Told you I wasn’t like those little boys you fucked around with” he leaned down capturing your lips in a passionate kiss that took no time to develop into a clash of tongue and teeth. The taste of yourself on his tongue made you moan into his mouth. The throbbing you felt started to become more and more unbearable as he kissed down your neck biting and nibbling here and there.

“Fuck… hurry I wanna feel you” You spread your legs making more room for him, bucking your hips up in desperate attempts to feel him. Sukuna groaned at the sight, wasting no time to discard his clothes, freeing his aching erection from the confines of his sweats. The size of him made you drip even more. How could you crave something so much when you've never had it? You don’t know but the need for him is burning through you. You wanna taste him, taste the pretty pearlescent pre that leaks from his tip in fat globs, lick the vein running on the underside of his cock, suck on the tip, feel the weight of him in your mouth, and see if he lets out pretty moans of your name. But you’ll save that for next time, hopefully, there will be a next time. Without realizing it you began to rub your clit as you watched him, his voice snapped you out of the trance.

“Cock drunk already? Playing with that pretty pussy just from the sight of my cock, oh I'm flattered” he cooed as he crawled back between your legs, heavy cock bobbing with his movements. His arrogance always got to you, but in this setting it made you crave him more. His cockieness made your cunt throb with anticipation. All you did in response was whine, something sukuna wasn't used to. No snarky sarcastic comeback, no punches, just whines and your hands desperately trying to pull him closer and it was driving him absolutely insane. He grabbed the base of his cock and lined it up with your entrance, dragging the tip up and down your slit and circled around your swollen clit a couple more times. The warmth radiating off of you felt soo good on him, but you guided his face to look back up at you causing him to stop his movements. 

“ ‘Kuna...w-wait. Please, could you be gentle?” the question came out barely audible, the vulnerability made your cheeks burn. He smiled in return, not his normal shit-eating grin, but one of sincerity. 

“ ‘Couse pretty baby. Need you to enjoy your first time, cant ruin my rep now can I?” he leaves a kiss on your forehead, and then goes down to capture your lips, not the clash of teeth and tongue as before. This one felt like more. In truth sukuna cared nothing for his reputation, as of right now he wanted to make you feel as good as possible. The newfound gentleness was new territory for him, but for you it felt like he needed to take his time and do things right. After giving you reassurance and promises of taking care of you, you gave sukuna the “okay” he needed to finally push into you. He felt the way you tensed up at the intrusion, but he was quick to shush you, kissing the tears away as he played with you clit to distract you from the stretch with each inch he sank into you. 

“Oh f-*hic*-uck, it’s...you’re so much I-. more please more” The feeling of him pressed all the way in you was nothing like you’ve felt. The stretch melted from uncomfort to unfathomable pleasure and you needed more. The twitch you felt from him inside you let you know that he felt just as good. In one swift motion, he pulled out just to the tip and pushed back in, the drag of him against your walls making you clench.

“Fuck your so t-ight even after all that work. You gotta relax… baby, f-fuck” his brows knitted together. The vice grip you had on him is going to make him cum prematurely, and he can’t have that. You tried your best to relax some but the way he fucked into you was way too good, and when he angled his hips up it was over. Your breath hitched, you've never reached that spot yourself and now you were seeing stars with the way he abused it. Over and over he bullied himself into you and right to that spongy spot. The moans you let out of his name only fueled sukuna more, rutting into you faster and harder. He promised to be gentle but the way you squeeze and drip around him made that impossible. The sound of your squelching pussy and his balls smacking against your ass was intoxicating, addicting. The sudden fluttering of your walls broke sukuna out his trance. 

“Kunnaaa I-Ithink..c-cum. I’mgonna cum” you moaned and moaned as you wrapped your arms around his neck pulling him down for a kiss. Your moans were swallowed up by him in the messy kiss, mixed drool rolling down your chin. He pulled away pressin his forehead against yours whispering praises on how good you're making him feel and how good you're taking him.

“If you're gonna cum, cum. Lemme see what pretty face you make when you feel good” and the huskyness of his voice was the last push you needed to cream all over him. You arched off the bed, eyes rolling to the back of your head as silent moans left you. The spasms of your walls hurled him towards his own release. The way you try and milk him and suck his cock back in makes his thrusts sloppy. “Oh fu-ck, fuck. Youfeelsogood. So good. Virgin pussy is mine, taking my cock so well. Tell me its mine, yeah? Mine to fuck mine to- shit im gonna cum, whe-” his babbles get cut off before he can even finish his question.

“In-inside. Please i wanna feel you inside” and at that moment Sukuna makes a mental note to delete his booty call list. You are all he wants, all he needs. With the last remnants of his composure, he folds you completely in half, reaching even deeper than before. He felt so impossibly deep you swear you could feel his cockhead in your womb.  

“Fuck you're too good. Want me to fill you up? Fill up your pussy, yeah? Augh! Are you c-cuming again? Oh Oh-” he moans the loudest he’s ever had as he falls over on you. His body going completely stiff as thick ropes or his hot cum fill you to the brim. Sukuna was derailed by how caught off guard he was by his own orgasm. He has never came as hard as he did, body trembling as he tried to ride out both your highs. And oh he came so much, you feel both your releases oozing out before he even pulls out. The two of you stay like that for a little while, kisses here and there. Coos and caresses exchanged. 

“Thank you, Ryo…I think I get why you're a whore now.” and you break into a fit of giggles as he rolls his eyes in response. 

“Yeah whatever. You shoulda let me hit sooner baby.” he said kissing the corner of your mouth

“Baby? You called me that a lot. Am I your baby?” you raised an eyebrow jokingly, attempting to tease him,

“You wanna be? Sweetheart just say the word and im yours. All yours, Only yours” he was serious this time, no hint of playfulness, no teasing. 

“Take me out on a date”

“I already started planning it”

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

⟢🐝notes: Sooor sorry it took so long chat. Hiii new followers hiiiii, sorry if you were waiting on this for too long （；´д｀）ゞ. I would blame college and work but like, also i've been doing nothing but play stardew 🌚. I HOPE IT WAS OKAY!!! Again im always open to feedback! And maybe i’ll do requests?? Idk if i have time ill do it. I think asks are open? Im fairly new to creating on here so idk...

Okay baiiiiiii (≧∇≦)ﾉ

[i-may-be-an-emu]

The way that Tom looks at them heals something in me that I didn’t know was so broken. Or something, idk.

[zepskies]

Heyo! So not sure how youd even write this from a story perspective— maybe headcanons r easier idk— but! What would Current SB/Ben say to his younger self (your choice on age) about his future? Whether it be from an introspective place, him talking fondly about his future family, etc — all you boo👍 Hope youre doing well!

Hey there! Thanks, I'm doing well and hope you are too!

Strictly speaking on story/fic requests, I'm only doing full fic requests on my Patreon, but occasionally I'll be able to do a short imagine/HC when something strikes me. For example, you pose a really interesting question. I think the answer would depend on Soldier Boy/Ben's level of growth/character development.

Like, if we're talking about Break Me Down version of Ben, for example, I've actually thought about this a bit before! If he had the opportunity to talk to his younger self, let's say in the 80s (shortly before Nicaragua):

What (BMD) Soldier Boy/Ben Would Say to His Younger Self

"You just think you've got it all figured out, don't you?" Ben says, crossing his arms at his younger counterpart.

"What? I'm at the top of my game?" Soldier Boy says. He smokes a joint, blowing up smoke casually and arrogantly.

Ben chuckles. "That's what you think."

Soldier Boy frowns. "The whole fucking world worships me. Whatever I want, I get. Women, picture deals, a fucking statue in front of Vought tower-- Hell, I've got hit after hit record on the top of the charts, for fuck's sake."

Ben just shakes his head. His rueful smile irks the other guy, but not as much as what he says next.

"And you're bored," Ben says. "You've got it all... But nothing's ever good enough, right?"

Soldier Boy's lips purse, but he doesn't have an answer. Not one he's willing to voice. Ben nods in understanding.

"It's all right. One day you'll find it," he says.

Soldier Boy frowns, his brows furrowing. "What do you mean, find it?"

Ben doesn't want to give away the punchline. This guy hasn't earned it yet. Not the way Ben knows he'll need to. Otherwise, he'll never understand what it all meant. What all those years struggling alone in the dark, and what betrayal, loneliness, and pain were worth.

No, he won't give it all away. But he'll give him this, at least.

"It's the simplest thing in the world," Ben says. "You're gonna meet a woman."

Granted, the way he met you was anything but simple. The way Ben sees it now, though, it is simple.

Soldier Boy's frown fades, his face turning wry. "A woman, huh? Think I've got plenty of those. Any time, any place, any way I want."

"Not this one," Ben says. He can't help a small, reserved smile when he thinks of you. "Matter of fact, she's going to test your last ever-fucking nerve, every day of your life...but you're not gonna be the same."

Ben thinks about the life he's built with you. He thinks about his daughter, Lila, and his son on the way. Ben pictures the house in his mind--Christmases, birthdays, wedding anniversaries, along with missions gone awry, and the fights and arguments that reverberated on those walls. Moments where his temper got the best of him, or your stubbornness made you dig your heels in. All of it is worth it.

"Then one day, you're going to wake up and realize that you've got everything you need," Ben says.

Soldier Boy seems to take that in. He's still skeptical, but maybe secretly interested in the bright future lying in wait behind his older self's eyes, even though he doesn't want to show it.

"Yeah? And then what?" Soldier Boy asks, in a tone that scoffs, but Ben sees that he's serious too, and he's listening. He knows it as well as he knows himself.

Ben levels a pointed finger at him.

"All you need to do, is protect it."

AN: It's like the old Spiderman meme where he's pointing at himself. lol 💚

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Break Me Down Masterlist

Soldier Boy Masterlist

Main Masterlist

BMD Tag List:

(I've paired this down from the old list that seemed to have a lot of people/blogs that are no longer active.)

@deans-spinster-witch @this-is-me19 @waynes-multiverse @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @spalady26

@nancymcl @emily-winchester @sl33pylilbunny @chernayawidow @spnfamily-j2

@lacilou @mimaria420 @yvonneeeee @my-stories-vault @iprobablyshipit91

@jacklesbrainworms @adoringanakin @deanwanddamons @globetrotter28 @mrsjenniferwinchester

@deans-daydream @deanwinchestersgirl87 @rachiem4-blog @sweettimelady @leigh70

@rizlowwritessortof @chevroletdean @spnwoman @syrma-sensei @muhahaha303

@123passwort @lyarr24 @is-this-a-febreze-commercial @iamsapphine @sanscas

@jessjad @fromcaintodean @stoneyggirl2 @chriszgirl92 @kazsrm67

@deansbbyx @midnightmadwoman @ladysparkles78 @fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like @tmb510

@sarahgracej @foxyjwls007 @just-levyy @roseblue373 @charmed-asylum

@mrlonelycat @kmc1989 @siampie @kaleldobrev @pieandmonsters

@alwaystiredandconfused @mostlymarvelgirl @twinkleinadiamondsky @winchestergirl2 @a-lil-pr1ncess

@winchester-whiskey @spnbabe67 @cheynovak @megara0224 @yoongi-holland

@illicithallways @perpetualabsurdity @deansimpala @impala-dreamer @k4marina

@atenea585 @kayleighwinchester @samslvrgirl @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @star-yawnznn

@number1whorehome @g0ldfishd00dles @10ava01 @sixxteenbullets @tayl0rfanatic

@everything-is-all-clear @suckitands33 @cookiechipdough @trashmoutth @riteofpassage77

@jc-winchester @mxltifxnd0m @bleuatlas

[bingus-bungus]

going to answer this under the cut bcs i dont like waiting to ask questions and no one would send us the asks anyways ahhahahahahahahahha

traumagenic / stressgenic, if im understanding the question right

~30, definitely some fragments in there though

more introjects

uhhhhh barely any. for some reason only vylent, simon, iSH and maybeee F can see the headspace, simon says that his is an island and vylent and iSH refuse to tell me (rude)

yes, we have one we know is a subsys for sure, and others we're not sure if they just share the same source as normal or if they're a subsys

yes, agent 3, 4, and 8 are in some sort of awkward silly relationship, dove miiiiiight be in a relationship with jade but she hasnt confirmed that yet, and simon and stella are in a one-sided relationship but thats only because stella isnt sentient yet

I N T E R N E T

we try our best to keep track of roles but they just kinda. bleh

we find it useful when we're trying to see if a term exists for what we're thinking of, but we know there's some sort of controversy surrounding it so. idk if that makes our use of it valid or not

simply plural, although we usually notice changes in switches around 10 minutes after they actually happen, so its not like. always accurate

F may have been the host for a bit, but its very unlikely

no, closest thing we have to a name is the insert cool word collective, it was just a silly thing we made up so we had a name for our strawpage

marina, marina agitando, and agent 8 are octolings, agent 3, agent 4, and frye are inklings, ax is an octoling AND an inkling (and also a crow), ray is a rayquaza, nepeta is a troll (from hs) f but hes a cat and little petey are cats, and dog man is a dog (holy shit) im not sure if all of these count as nonhuman but shut your fuck up

not that we know of (vylent pleaseeeeeeeee_

uhhhhhh im not that interesting but F is in co-front rn so: we actually could not come up with anything interesting. we're like the two least interesting people here. F has the best handwriting here ig is that interesting

uhhh no

no

F (as previously mentioned before) has really good handwriting, and simon is very good at digital art, which is ironic considering his source takes place sometime during the 50s-60s

idk

a lot of things. usually what music to listen to, like. what to do in general, and what fandoms we should be in which is rlly stupid in my opinion

usually, we're all collectively autistic + depressioned, and anxietyed, but simon thinks he has dyslexia which im not sure if that can happen for like. one guy but uh. what was the question again i forgot

little petey probably counts as a syskid, but thats the only one we know of. some of us do age regress as a coping mechanism tho

this malt tastes like shit

kind of?

nepeta often goes back and reads homestuck, she doesnt really have a problem with it bcs nepeta isnt in hs^2 (aside from davepetasprite) but jade roxy and dove have kind of been trying to source separate (especially with jade since that last update). idk how any of the splatoon fictives got here, a few weeks before we discovered being a system we decided to go on hiatus of playing splatoon so. no. i could go on and on since we have so many fictives from so many different sources but. i dont think this wall of text looks quite appealing

doesnt apply to us

havent really though of that yet, we usually just think about the same future jay wished to have back before we found out we were plural

not yet

kind of outdated but yes

uhhhhhh too tired

most times any of us didnt get along they usually resolved it within like. 1-3 days. except for bill, he went into dormacy for like a month and came back saying he went through his redemtion arc (which he did)

not really? as previously mentioned x2 i have very good handwriting but im typing rn so.

i mean like, we dont really like it that much, theoretically, if an actual baby knew how to type, it probably would just type normal words but i can see why people do it. im okay with it as long as people provide translations so we can actually understand it

uh. we dont really know that much about dog man. hes a dog

jay has all of our collective interests, i feel like. when most of us split we got assigned like. one or two of those interests. whenever i visualize splitting or alter forming i always imagine cellular division idk

splaoton

nope

nope

probably jade, since our trauma was somewhat related to homestuck, but i realized her and all the other hs alters formed to like. help us cope with that and shit. little petey was also a surprise since like. little petey, and F because he was a factive

we do, but we havent actually drawn them yet ;-;

collectively nonbinary, asexual, and demiromantic

whats a gender

we're all asexual

simply plural

whats a food

uhhhhhhh in the middle

maybe?? we've always had shit memory so its hard to tell whether its system related or not

we have this in our drafts. this was before we actually knew simon's personality, so we thought we was just "the crazy one". this was actually bill that said that

49. vanilla

50. only one i can think of is simon who has a chronic fear of water, which really isnt that silly, just scary because like how the fuck are we supposed to shower

51. bazingacore (idk)

52. not really

53. smirking face (yes, that was how we found out for sure actually)

54. no

55. only axolotl and ray

56. when we went trick-or-treating on halloween F (me i just need to write this in the third person so it sounds better) was fronting the entire time which was really weird because he had no idea who any of our friends were except for one of them

57. yes most of the time

58. not as much anymore, but we have a sp front status called "some other mf" and idk if that counts as handling it bu SHUT Ur fuckn up

59. not yet and i hope never

60.

not that accurate but like bazinga or whatever

Long system ask game!

Because it's been ages since we made one and we felt like it.

What type of system are you?

How many people are there in your system?

Do you have more introjects or non-introjects?

How much control do you have over your headspace (if you have one)?

Do you have any subsystems?

Do you have any in-system couples?

How did you discover your systemhood? Or did you become one on purpose?

How do you feel about system roles, and do you use them?

What are your thoughts on Pluralpedia?

Do you use anything to keep track of switching?

Have you ever had a change in hosts?

Do you have a system name? How did you pick it?

Do you have any nonhuman members? Feel free to list their species!

Do you have any headspace pets?

Current fronter/fronters, share some random info about you!

Do you have a partner system? How did you meet?

Have you ever mistaken a character of yours for a headmate? What about the other way around?

Does anyone have any skills that the others don't?

What's something y'all tend to agree on?

What about something you tend to disagree on?

Do symptoms of neurodivergencies/mental illness tend to manifest the same way or differently among headmates?

Do you have any syskids?

Share an in-system joke!

Has how you view your plurality changed?

If you have fictives, do they participate in their source fandom? If yes, are they open about who they are in fandom spaces?

How do you handle headmates having different spiritual beliefs?

How do you decide on major life decisions (where to live, what to study, what work to have, etc)?

Do you have any system traditons?

Current fronter, do you have your own playlist? Feel free to share it!

Do you have any art of anyone in the system? Feel free to show it off!

How do you handle it when people in the system don't get along?

Current fronter, is there anything that makes it obvious you're the one fronting? (Voice, accent, body language, typing style, etc)

If you have syskids, how do they feel about stereotypical "babby tawk"?

Share something about your newest member!

Do you tend to have collective or separate interests and hobbies?

If you have introjects, what source do you have the most from?

Are you out as plural to anyone irl?

Do you know any systems irl?

Which headmate was the biggest surprise?

Do you have a singletsona?

Do you have any collective labels?

What's the most common gender in your system?

What's the most common sexuality in your system?

What's your favorite app/website/etc for plural stuff?

Do you tend to have the same taste in food or not?

Is it hard or easy for you to switch?

Do you experience system-related amnesia?

Share something weird a headmate has done!

Current fronter, what's your favorite ice cream flavor?

Share a silly fear someone in the system has!

Current fronter, describe your aesthetic!

If you have outworld pets, do they tend to act differently around different headmates?

Has anyone ever figured out you were a system without you telling them?

When it comes to syskids, is there anyone in particular that takes care of them?

Does anyone in the system identify as otherkin, therian, or fictionkin?

Have you ever switched in an awkward moment? What happened?

Do you ever switch without realizing it?

Are you ever blurry? How do you handle it?

Has anyone ever treated an introject badly because of who their source is?

Current fronter, share a pic of your "face claim!"

[junebugsarchive]

manager nam x reader ; headcanons ver.

summary: headcanons of manager nam x fem! reader

pairing: manager nam x reader

details: mentions of using contraception . not much of warnings other than that . anon request . all headcanons are my opinion, i'm not forcing you to agree with them! . all dividers used are from @cafekitsune . all pictures used are from pinterest

a/n: i love him i love him i love him i love him when yall see this man i want you to immediately think of me and the im his main im his side im every woman that's in his mind sound because he's my goat oh my fosh 🤑 anyways, enjoy babes! thanks for the ask, this was highkey fun to make.

your no. 1 supporter

this man is the greenest green flag when it comes to support and encouragement

you saw this gorgeous dress on display but not sure if it'll look good on you? "go ahead and buy that dress, you look good in anything." you want to sign up for sewing classes? he's immediately doing extensive research on all the sewing workshops nearby and background-checking all the employees. you're struggling to carry all your shopping bags? he's dropping everything to rush to your side and help you carry them to the car.

date nights. date nights. i can't really envision him going out to expensive restaurants (idk why, i'm sorry), but i feel like he would prefer simpler date nights as well, like just sitting down on the sofa with a box of pizza and face masks bc u insisted, watching some corny rom com movie

this man is rich rich. given his job, there's no way you would ever be short on money. he feels bad because his job doesn't really give him a lot of time to spend with you, but he makes up for it by transferring millions and millions of won into your card every month to spend on clothes, manicures, skincare, whatever you needed

pouting to him because you accidentally spent all the money he had given you? no worries, he'll simply press a kiss to your crown and transfer more money, giving you a little extra "just because".

god i love this man

lives for forehead, hairline, crown kisses bc let's be for real, this man is huge. i'm not exactly sure of his height but let's just assume he's super tall, and you have to be standing on your tiptoes just to be able to kiss him properly

because of this, it would be more convenient for him to press kisses to the top of your head before he rushes off for work

very protective

his years as a mercenary have honed his awareness skills (??), and he's really good at detecting threats to you. for example, there's a man that keeps following you around, and you're not even aware of it, but manager nam's already excusing himself to go beat the guy up - or kill him, it depends on his mood that day.

you don't ever need to worry your pretty little head whenever you're around him, because he's already taken care of every threat in the area before you're even aware of them <3

if he's busy on a mission tho, he'll get a bunch of bodyguards to follow u around bc he's just gentlemanly like that

(borderline overly-protective but you beg to differ)

i feel like he would def be like manager kim and hide his occupation for you.

sure, he did mention lightly that he's a contract bodyguard, which is why he's so rich, but he refused to tell you anything other than that, because in his words he has to "protect the clients' privacy" (he's lying he doesn't mention the part he's also a contract killer / mercenary). i mean, it wasn't exactly a lie, right?

he can't say he's never thought of starting a family with you, but between his busy schedule and the constant threats looming behind his shoulder, he would want to wait until everything settles down before giving you a child. until then, he's very strict on using condoms and ensures you take the pills before and after yall do the deed.

but when you guys do have children, he would be an amazing father to the child, no matter their gender.

as a girl dad, he would definitely dotes on her like he does to you, but he's really strict on ensuring she doesn't end up too bratty and constantly trains her in self defense so that she's capable of protecting herself and her mother from creeps. your daughter would def grow up to be a total hothead and extremely protective of her mother, and insists on having "girls night" and literally kicks her depressed father out of their shared bedroom lol. tbh, manager nam's just a total softie for his family

if he was a boy dad tho, the tables would turn because i feel like he would have really strict training regiments and standards for his son, and they're both fueled by the constant reminder that they need to protect you <3 always fighting for your attention it's almost funny lol. until your son grows up and petty arguments turn into full-blown fights that leave you fuming and refusing to talk to them for days because they broke your favourite vase

in conclusion, manager nam is a total simp that would bend over backwards just for you. if he respects and admires manager kim, he 100% worships and adores you with all his heart. every day you spend with him feels like a dream <3

10/10, total green flag that would do anything to keep you happy. as long as he sees you smiling lovingly at him, he's happy.

[boundinparchment]

All these leaks have me convinced I’m just not meant to enjoy Natlan, lore wise or character wise 💔

Hot take I guess, sorry in advance

[the-moon-files]

Alright, so I just read through that language barriers post of yours and had a Blast Tm, BUT! Now I have several thoughts that need to be spoken. Firstly, what with english being this really ancient language now, yn‘s basically got a free phd in hyrule, don‘t they?? Predestined for exploration because of their „excellent skills with the language used in the ruins and temples of old, as well as their familiarity with the mechanisms“ or something. The ruin researchers probably beg to have them in their team.

Secondly, apparently accents are really appealing to some people? The chain already finds yn‘s morning voice really hot, but how would they even react to the way they sort of mispronounce the words? Idk too much about how japanese sounds, but maybe they emphasize the consonants too much which makes them sound harsh all the time, or the opposite, too much emphasis on vowels and sounding very soft. Just… brainrot about rambling and not trying too hard to speak perfectly accurately being all it takes to have the boys smitten and kicking their feet.

Thirdly!! What about a yn that knows multiple languages? The chain tries their best to learn english, and then yn comes around the corner like SIKE. THAT‘S NOT ALL OF THEM. YOU WILL NEVER COMPREHEND IT ALL. (That‘s what I‘d do at least.)

sorry for late reply i have a hectic life rn and i got hit by hurricane helene lol

ao3/writing blog author curse is so real u guys, this was like a 100 year not anticpated flood or smth, also we're in the mountains??

anyway gonna assume u mean masc/male reader bc of the reference to this post!! if u want context or a sorta part 1

this is just gonna be a quick reply so i can share anons ideas w/the world tho since ive been hoarding asks 😔

at the very least Wild's Zelda is harassing you

at the very most, every time u guys get near a town or city, u are kidnapped by hylian researchers

just the image of a bunch of nerd hylians mobbing u and fangirling while the rest of the guys, in full armor and swords just stand awkwardly behind lmao

(they get lowkey jealous after awhile i mean what who said that-)

the way Legend, Hyrule, Four, and Twi hover a little closer when you talk

Wild and Twi are practically like excited dogs whenever you speak, perking up when they hear your deep voice, u know, bc u tried randomly talking in the evenings abt nothing and watched them pavlov respond and look to you every time

even when u just started talking about the grass or some flowers

lowkey you accidentally almost mess up their dungeon exploring bc theyre just so used to your accented voice in their heads, just around them, or smth guiding them along, that when they all split up into smaller groups in the dungeon,

each Link pair accidentally starts following a man's voice echoing in the dungeon until they all accidentally converge in a main room and the Link equivalent of the point spiderman meme happens with you in the center with Time, who had been your dungeon buddy (he's laughing at them as every Link goes a little red after realizing they just followed you unconciously)

ur favorite thing to do is leaning down to whisper in each of the pointed hylian ears randomly, just talking about mundane or random things and watching it twitch, some trying to stay still like Time/Twi/Wars/Wild, while others leap away like u burned them lmao Legend/Hyrule/Four, and Sky managing to do both, trying to maintain composure before he inevitably breaks out all red and hides in his hands lmao

(Wind dared you to do it originally, and he snickers every time he sees you doing it again lol)

-

ok but the multiple languages is endless comedy gold

bc everytime a Link thinks he's got it or starts to listen then realize ur actually speaking smth completely different language

u get the most memeable faces of his confusion

like these gems

(four's blue is showing, he's offended u switched languages every other word one time)

they're actually so fed up lmao

☆

anyway sorry for late reply!! I hope u guys are having a good week so far, and ill try to post some more, tho cant guarantee when as the holidays close in for me

(rip my class is also getting near the end too im Stressin)

peace out anon,

🌙

[hiiikiko]

hi hi hi

can you do brothers bff!ellie x reader? maybe they met as children and ellie was close with readers brother, but always saw r as a nuisance. until r went away to boarding school or something and came back a few years later, and ellie begins to develop a crush on her? idk i thinks this would be cute for her 🥰

𝕝𝕠𝕟𝕘 𝕥𝕚𝕞𝕖, 𝕟𝕠 𝕤𝕖𝕖

brother’s best friend!ellie x reader | tlou m.list

[a/n:] i love this trope so much, thank you for submitting this ask! also LMAO this went so off base but I like this too much to delete it and It’s too much work to copy and paste every god damn sentence bc tumblr makes that so fuckin’ hard but uh yeah thanks :P

Synopsis: Ellie and you had something goin on.. but it’s been years since the two of you have seen each other..

tw: angst

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

SUNDAY

Ellie was your childhood friend, uh, actually that’d be a lie.. she was your brother’s best friend.. but same difference.. I mean, your mom would force your darling big brother, Jesse, to take you everywhere with him.. like, come on, it was free babysitting and it was killing two birds with one stone. Not only was your mom getting free babysitting, she was also able to kick your reckless brother out for a few hours. So everyday for a few hours after school, your brother would drag you along to football games, lacrosse games, basketball games.. ugh, so many sports.. You didn’t always look forward to it, but.. there was one upside to them..

Ellie Williams.

Ellie was your next door neighbour. She was pretty, smart, introverted, and a troublemaker. Sure, she graduated valedictorian and was an all-star on the girl’s lacrosse and basketball and volleyball team but god, did she cause her fair share of trouble.. including, making you fall for her. Although, you were sure Ellie completely hated your guts. She always called you ‘squirt,’ given that you were much smaller than her when the two of you were kids. She would always groan when she saw you tag along with Jesse, smacking his arm and glaring back at you, silently saying ‘Why the fuck did you bring her?” To which Jesse would reply with a sly smirk and a shrug.

Now, it wasn’t your plan to fall for her.. but come on, it was inevitable. She was your brother’s best friend, that’s like the forbidden fruit in the garden of eden! How could you pass that up, hm? But, before you could ever confess to her.. you were shipped off to a catholic all girl’s school because your mom thought that these thoughts about girls weren’t very christian-like. You came back every now and then but it was easier to spend breaks at your Aunt’s house, it was closer to the school and besides, what was the point of coming back? You weren’t very popular in your hometown, you lived in your brother’s shadow. He was an all-star in practically every sport, smart, constantly made the papers for his footaball games.. so did Ellie and you never really felt like you belonged with them, or your town for that matter. In boarding school, you had no one to be compared to. You were actually quite popular, you joined quite a few clubs, even became head of the Newspaper Club and graduated valedictorian. You were doing pretty good on your own, then soon.. you were off to college.

It was the beginning of fall when you finally decided to pay your mom and brother a visit, you were on thanksgiving break.

“Alright, bye Lila! See ya, Chris!” you waved at the retreating volkswagen van belonging to your two best friends from school, rooted in the ground as you watched it disappear round a corner.

You let out a deep sigh as you tuned on your heel to face your childhood home, it felt like forever since you’d been back.. sure, you came back sometimes but.. still, it had been, like, three years. You were now a sophomore i college, you had left when you were a senior in high school.

You couldn’t help but sneak a glance at Ellie’s house, Joel’s truck was in the garage. Joel was a nice guy, he’d always fix your mom’s car for free. You and Jesse really did like him, at one point, the two of you even tried hooking your mom up with him but.. that all came crashing down when your mom found out and sentenced the two of you to yard work for the next week.

“Hey, Joel,” you say to the pair of boots under the old Chevy, drumming your fingers on the hood.

The sound of tools turning comes to a halt as the pair of boots soon slides down to reveal the person the pair of boots belonged to.. Ellie.

“Oh, sorry.. I-I thought you were Joel,” you stuttered out, Ellie’s fierce gaze piercing right through you.

“Yeah? Well, you thought wrong,” she grumbled, using her teeth to pull off her gloves and wiping some grease off her face, “Long time, no see.. what do you want?”

God, you haven’t even been home for more than five minutes and the new you was already melting away under her gaze, you felt like you were 17 again.

“Nothing, just.. wanted to say hi,” you mumble and leave her there, sitting on the sliding board.

You couldn’t see it but, you could feel her hungry gaze watching your every move as you left the driveway. You couldn’t tell if she was watching you out of curiosity or.. something else.

MONDAY

Sunday went by like a breeze, you and your mom caught up over dinner, you and Jesse caught up by not catching up.

Today, you decided to look for a part-time job. You just needed enough cash to get you a one-way ticket back outta here and you didn’t want to burden your Aunt with the costs.

After visiting a multitude of stores, you ran into Joel at the gas station. He mentioned how he was looking for a receptionist and you practically threw yourself at the opportunity.

“Alright, alright, you got the job,” he chuckled, taking a sip from his gas station coffee, letting out a satisfied hum at the taste. This man sure did love his coffee, “Can you start tomorrow?”

You beaned, “Yes, sir, I can.”

He nodded and tapped your trucks hood, “Make sure to bring this ol’ boy by, I promised your mom a free oil change in exchange for her cookin’ me a few dishes a month.”

You giggled, “Will do.”

TUESDAY

“Hey, I’m here for the job,” you said to the guy at the front desk, a older gentleman, he reeked of weed, his eyes glazed over.

“Uh, okay, let me get the other manager.”

You nodded, leaving the desk to look around the old shop, it smelled of gasoline, leaving a metallic taste in your mouth.

“You gotta be fuckin’ kidding me.”

Your blood ran cold as you realized who that low, raspy voice belonged to, “Mornin’ to you, too, Ellie.”

She rolled her eyes, leaning against the desk and tucking her pen behind her ear, “You’re the new girl?”

You nod, trying not to let your smile falter, “Yep, that’s me.”

She rolled her eyes again, “Alright, follow me.”

You jog to keep up with her while she introduces you to all the mechanics, turns out the mechanic you met earlier is named Eugene. They were all happy to see a fresh new face, some even asking if that car out front was yours and if anythin’ were to go wrong, that you knew where to find them, much to Ellie’s annoyance.

“Well, that’s all? Any questions?” and before you could say yes, she slammed her office door closed.

“Same as always, I see,” you mumbled and set yourself down at the desk, familiarizing yourself with the outdated equipment. You didn’t like how close your desk was to her office, it was suffocating.

FRIDAY

By Friday, you had completely reorganized their computer systems to be a little more efficient and their files as well. Ellie didn’t say good job or anything, she just nodded and criticized every little mistake you made. Joel, on the other had, would knock her upside the head every time he caught her saying something a little too mean, then would apologize for his daughter’s behaviour and shower you with compliments.

Besides Ellie’s annoying remarks, work was actually going pretty smoothly.

You were finishing up some paperwork when you heard the door to the garage swing open, she had on her overalls and was covered in grease and oil, just like the first day when you came back.

“Y/n, pull your truck in, Joel wants me to change the oil or whatever she grumbled, wiping her cheek, trying to rid it of the grease but actually, she just made it worse. You couldn’t stop your heart from fluttering at the sight.. there’s just something about a woman covered in car oil that does it for you..

You nod, “Alright.”

You spent the last 40 minutes talking on the phone with your old schoolmates, laughing about how they got back home.

“Sooo.. Y/n, have you heard from Abby?” your friend, Lila, giggled as she was pushed out of frame by her sister, Chris.

You groan and lean back into your chair, “God, no. I haven’t heard from her since that night,” you rub your face with your hand, trying to conceal the embarrassment.

The two girls on the other end giggled and begin to fangirl over Abby.

“Ugh, I don’t know why you don’t want her anymore!” Lila began.

“She was totally perfect, like.. you landed a lacrosse player.. that’s every girl’s dream-“ “ Not to mention how muscular she was? LIke, uh, drool??”

You rolled your eyes, “Okay, I admit she was perfect—.”

The garage door slams and in comes Ellie, looking especially pissed off, “Can you shut the fuck up? It’s hard to work when you’re being so god damn loud.”

She wandered into frame, you could practically read what Lila and Chris were thinking, their eyes screamed ‘do me.’

You rolled your eyes and hung up your phone, “Fuck, Ellie. You’re such a fuckin’ killjoy.”

Ellie laughed, walking over to your desk, spinning around your chair, putting her arms on either side of the arm rests, “You’re such a pain in the ass,” and for a split second, you could swear her eyes flickered down to your lips.

SATURDAY

Saturday night, Dina invited you out with her and Jesse to the local bar. Country music blasted through the speakers and the sound of beer bottles thinking set the tone along with the cheap cigarette smoke.

“Thank god they don’t card, huh,” Dina smirked at you, you laughed. Jesse rushed off to the bar to get the three of you some beers.

The two of them watched you slam down your first beer, a little too fast for them to know it was your first.

“What? Boarding School isn’t as strict if you know how to get around the rules and alarms,” you giggled.

You soon had enough liquid courage in you to make your way onto the dance floor, swinging your way into the arms of guys and girls, alike.

“Uh.. testing.. 1…2..3,” the crowd came to a sudden halt, you followed their gaze. You saw Ellie on stage, a young mechanic you knew, and a guy you didn’t know too well stood behind her. She held her hand up above her eyes to shield them from the harsh stage light. She looked.. well, hot.. she wore some wranglers, steel-toed cowboy boots, and a nice black long sleeve button up, her brown cowboy hat rested atop her head, bringing out the green in her eyes, “Well, tonight, we got some new songs for y’all.”

Her set was pretty amazing, the crown obviously loved her and her voice was very, very good.

“Alright, before we call it a night, we got one more song.. we’ll be covering I Wonder Do You Think of Me,” you couldn’t really tell but you were sure she was staring directly at you, but that was ridiculous, you were sure she couldn’t see anything through that blaring light.

She started, “If you drive around, back in our old hometown.. I wonder, do you think of me?” her voice sounded full of hurt, almost like it was breaking.

The dance floor was full of cowboys and cowgirls moving their bodies in since, in beautiful, melancholic slow dance.

“And remember those games, those cold football games.. I was your hero, though I seldom played, back then.. could you see, what our future would be?”

Now you were certain, she had to be singing this song for you, everything her eyes dipped back underneath her cowboy hat, you could see her emerald eyes piercing into your soul.

“Fuck this,” you grumbled and grabbed your purse, you were not going to do this again.

“I still love you, do you think of me?”

The wooden door slammed behind you and you could hear the cheers of the audience erupt.

“Y/n, wait,” a hoarse voice came bounding toward you.

“God! What? What the fuck do you want Ellie?”

You whipped around, Ellie’s face was only inches from yours.

“I-I wanted to apologize.. for, for everythin’. It wasn’t right to leave you like that.. and it wasn’t right to say all I did. “

The months leading up to your departure, you and Ellie had been sneaking around. “I love you,” she had whispered in your ear, the night of her winning the lacrosse state championship, her mouth nestled against your ear and her hands in your pants and like an idiot, you believed her. You believed her despite her not wanting to go on dates, hang out together in public school, and through the rumours of her being a player. Then, the night before you left for school, she snuck into your room and confessed; “I never loved you, Y/n.. you were just a means to an end, another girl on my roster.”

Those words were ingrained in your memory, the next day when you left for school, your eyes were puffy and that following year, you tried everything to get over her. Then that year became two years, following you into college. You drank, smoked, hooked up with random girls but none of them were her, not even Abby Anderson.

“I’m not doing this again,” you ripped your hand out from her grasp.

“Fuck, would you just listen to me?” she trapped your other hand and pulled it to her chest, “I never meant all that bullshit, don’t ya see? I’ve only ever liked you, Y/n…” her eyes looked sincere.

“Fuck you, you’re so full of yourself.”

“God, you’re sop fuckin stubborn. Don’t believe me? I sent you a letter every god damn day after you left, I had given them to your mom, it wasn’t until recently that Jesse had told me she never mailed them out.”

This whole time, you assumed that she had really meant it all and the no reaching out thing, really drove the nail deeper..

You stopped, “What?”

“You gotta believe me,” her breath smelled like whiskey and cigarettes.

You stared into her eyes, you heart melted, “F-fine..”

She smiled and pulled you even closer, her hand wrapping around your waist and she placed a soft kiss on your lips. You really were a fool, weren’t ya?”

[factual-fantasy]

25 Asks! Thank you! :}} 🐬

@stargirldrawsx3

Oof, that's a tough thing to answer/explain.. Motivation to draw OCs.. uhhhh..

I guess I sometimes just picture them in my head and think "man that would look really cool if I drew it" And then I.. draw. it. 💀

idkkkk-- my apologies, I'm not the best at explaining art stuff. My motivation for drawing/creating OCs just comes and goes. Idk what sparks it or haw to spark it artificially. If I'm not feeling motivated to draw OCs I just draw fanart or other OCs that I do feel like drawing.. sorry i cant be more helpful here! <:(((

Thank you! :DD And I've been drawing for literally as long as I can remember. Some of my earliest memories are drawing stick figured in my school notebook in my back yard.

Of course though I cant really tell you the estimate of years without revealing my age <XD but I can say that its a very long time! :))

YES SIR MR ANON SIR! WILL DO SIR! 🫡🫡🫡

He's an interesting character to me. :0 Aside from his voice being a bit annoying at times. (He sounds like Finn the human but more theatrical.)

Something I've noticed is that it seems like a lot of other characters dump a lot of stuff on Gingerbrave and depend on him to help them. I always wonder/feel like he's got a lot on his plate. I'm surprised he doesn't act more stressed or seem tired at all..

This has made me think of angsty scenarios where Brave gets hurt or sick and has to rest for a few days. But he just cant. He's gotten so used to helping people and always being asked for help that he doesn't feel like he can just sit around and do nothing.

I wonder how much of his self worth is pinned on being the helping hand or the hero. I wonder how he would feel if he suddenly became a "burden" to his friends or Pure Vanilla..

Over all I don't mind his character. He's pretty neat! :))

@wolfie-777

Tbh..? I didn't really like them <:(

The characters voices in Indigo park were so theatrical and annoying to me that I could hardly focus on the game. I just kept thinking "pleasestoptalkingpleasestoptalkingSHUPUPLLOYD" Also I wasn't a fan of the characters of indigo park being.. living creatures..? They looked uncanny and unrealistic.. how did they even get there-

I would have liked indigo park more if their voices weren't so theatrical and if they were big animatronics or something instead..

Secondly Finding Frankie. I liked the concept actually. Having this fall guys type gameshow thing with a grand prize was cool! And all the parkour gamplay was really unique and fun!

But then Frankie came along and broke the fourth wall. "I'm here to make the game more interesting and spark fan theories!" It took me right out and made the game feel cheap. Then of course the characters are these big monsters with blood that makes no sense... I would be more immersed if they were just big animatronics that went rogue.

All in all, not the biggest fan of these two games 😅

Thank you for all of this <:)) I'm trying my best to get past these bad health days and get back to drawing. Its been really tough but i hope to come back soon.. Just not to the Octonauts fandom <XDD

@vivicantdraw

:000 You like my handwriting?? :DD Why thank you! That's very sweet of you to say! :))

Also, that's a great drawing of Barnacles! :00 And akjwendfjef XD The thieves just on fire in the background XDDDD

I wouldn't count on it <:( I never even finished the show when I was really into it... but hey its always possible I suppose-

Thank you.. I'm trying my best to just move on and keep drawing. But ngl this has really sucked. My health has been weighing me down so much for months, and now all this art theft and blatant disrespect on top of it? I've tried drawing on my own time but this art block has just not let up.

@chromchill

I'm doing my best to draw privately, but I hadn't realized how much I relied on peoples nice comments for motivation. This art block has been killer.

@bred-by-insanity

Awe! Cute dog! :))

And thank you.. I'm doing my best. But man this just sucks.

I will never accept anyone's excuses for disrespecting my, or other artists boundaries.

And yeah, thank you.. I miss people interacting kindly with my Octonauts stuff.. But its not worth all the theft. Same with FNAF. I've decided to just draw those in private.

Well don't get me wrong, my FNAF stuff gets stolen, traced and copied a lot too. The Octonauts ones just happen more frequently. 🙄

(Referencing this post)

XD Yeah he got out eventually

I do not, I'm only found on here on Tumblr! (And my YouTube channel that I never post to)

Remember, if you find my artwork anywhere else, it is 100% stolen every time. No exceptions.

@misfortuneandflamingos

AAAA THANYOUU!! :DDDD

<XD Thank you. And yeah the world just be broken like that 😔

I've seen fanart of those things, but haven't looked into it myself :00

Also thank you!! :DD

(Link in ask)

Thank you! I'm hoping to find ways to post some TADC stuff soon <:)

Also wow- I see the resemblance! But this is the first time I'm seeing this character, its purely a coincidence :0

Link in ask

Aww!! I love Sylveon 😭💞💞

Thank you, and don't worry- I see what you were getting at <:)

I'm doing my best to move on from this and I'm working on getting my confidence back. I think I just needed a big break from Tumblr to just indulge and games and stuff.. I'm hoping to return soon.

(Referencing this post)

XDD I'm glad you like it! :DD That one was really fun to draw 🤣🤣

@smil3y-f4c3

Hmmm... good question.. Well, my favorite is Dusknoir. I can see Bibi liking Sylveon... hmmm.. Jangles probably likes weird or funny looking Pokémon, mayyybe Mr Mime..? I can see Cici liking Mimiku.. as for Gerald I can see him having a surprising interest in pokemon like Xerneous, Dialga and Deoxys. Maybe Xerneous being his favorite.

@smg6-the-memer

I'm hanging in there as best I can <:/ I hope you're well! :))

@neo-metalscottic

Oof, been there buddy! I hope you have a speedy recovery. <:) As for me I haven't been doing so great. Have had some rough health days recently and lost a lot of my confidence about posting my artwork online. It feels like every time I check here someone has sent me yet another stolen piece of art I made. I've spent my time just screwing around on Roblox to get away from it all 😔

Now Mario and Luigi: Brothership.. I've heard of it but haven't played it myself. I've been meaning to watch someone do a playthrough of it sometime <XD