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#it like made this whole impression on my family
entropyvoid · 2 days
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So anyway my hot take about the bit where Sunday is taking you on a guided tour through a dramatic play about the history of Penacony is that the confusion of him narrating over the story so you can’t parse what’s goin on is that it’s actually an EXCELLENT creative choice in interactive storytelling actually, because that whole scene isn’t really about Penacony’s past, present, or future, it’s about cult programming. Sunday’s goal is not for you to witness a dramatization of Penacony’s history and form your own thoughts and opinions about it, his goal is a last ditch effort to get you to share HIS specific perspective.
He talks over the story to tell you what’s happening, giving his conclusions from the get-go and sometimes even saying things that seem to directly contradict what he’s speaking over, but by the time you can even parse it, it’s gone and you’re left with little to do but move on. It’s overwhelming and makes it very difficult to form a coherent thought about it, much less a proper refutation to his arguments. It is a tactic intended to melt your brain and repeatedly hit it with a hammer of his view - the only reasonable view. So reasonable that it doesn’t even seem to occur to him that someone might have an opposing interpretation that’s logical, (more on this later,) he’s not open to new ideas, he is so completely and utterly set in his philosophy that he takes a chance in trying to hold your hand through it and explain it to you because he believes that if he just talks you through it, you’ll see the light. He is trying to convert others into to accepting the Order. Inducing mental exhaustion combined with repeating a specific philosophy, backed with an narrative to make it feel credible over and over again until your brain is too fried to do anything but accept if is a pretty common brainwashing tactic. For the devs to actually manage to induce that direct feeling in the players within the safety of fiction is actually a really impressive feat.
And he probably isn’t even really taking the specific approach he does consciously, rather, he is likely repeating some of the tactics that Gopher Wood put him through. Gopher, probably the closest thing Sunday had to a parental figure after his mother’s death, is an entity with no physical form that’s practically nigh omniscient and omnipresent within the dreamscape, is able to take over the bodies of anyone within the Oak family (possibly without their knowledge or without them remembering it?) and has been looking after Sunday from a young age. Firstly, we see them employing very similar (conversational? Argumentative?) styles. From the scene about the rehabilitated bird, we see Gopher giving a very scientific but ultimately leading explanation of natural selection (and the inherent cruelty of nature that Sunday heavily internalizes and repeats further down the line,) then poses a question that seems very open: what do you want to do about it? What do you want to do with this fucked up little fledgling that can’t fly? In his inner world, Sunday presents you with this, and several other personal experiences intended to lead you to a particular answer, then calmly asks you what decision you would’ve made in his place, in a way very reminiscent of how Gopher himself spoke to Sunday and Robin.
Sunday’s answer, to build a cage for the bird so it could live”no matter what,” happens to have aligned pretty well with the philosophies of the Order, and the quick unfortunate end the bird met when it was later released solidified his desire to protect via control, and proved to be a very formative experience for him. I think it’s highly plausible that this an early illustration of Sunday’s cult grooming already taking root, or at the very least, of Gopher fishing for a kid who’s open and susceptible to it. Gopher, seemingly being Sunday’s sole direct conspirator, is almost certainly the one who guided him on the path of worshipping the Order, while also making Sunday feel like it was his idea.
We don’t see too much in the way of interactions between Gopher and Sunday beyond that, so we’ll have to fill in the gaps - but Gopher is shown to be constantly watching over the schemes Sunday is involved in via possession of birds long before we actually learn who he is. He is always there, always watching, he can instantly overtake the will of others (so long as they’re in the Oak family - but that’s abt 1/5th of Penacony’s population and the group Sunday is a part of and thus most surrounded by,) and despite seeming very calm and reasonable, he’s clearly not above shutting people down through direct metal suppression if their questions start to pose any kind of a threat. When Welt’s questions became too direct and poignant, leading to him and Robin realizing that Gopher and Sunday were followers of Ena rather than Xipe, Gopher quickly commands Sunday to use his own mental suppression powers on them (since they’re both outside of Gopher’s control,) and Sunday does not hesitate. I have to wonder - how many times has Gopher potentially used this on Sunday, or any of the people around Sunday who got a little too close to presenting him with ideas that challenged the Order’s philosophy? It would not only be extremely easy for him to isolate Sunday intellectually while retaining his status as the sole voice of reason, but also likely, given that protection through control and domination is kind of the whole theme of the Order. (Or at least - Gopher and Sunday’s interpretation of it.) We can thus extrapolate that Gopher may’ve likely used other tactics of manipulation and control on Sunday that we haven’t seen, but which Sunday may imitate, such as in the segment with him narrating over the play about Penacony’s history.
And Sunday, clearly, is extremely isolated, long before he tres to pull his little stunt that ends in him as the lone awake person in an eternal dreamworld. Aside from Gopher, who can’t really be called on and only shows up when he feels like it, the only person he has to confide in is his sister Robin, but Sunday has long since internalized his whole “the strong protect the weak, and they protect the weak through control” bit to the extent that he tries very hard to shelter her from the things he sees as dangerous and painful. He doesn’t tell her about what happened to the bird (though she figured it out on her own anyway,) he doesn’t tell her a damn thing about his lil Ena cult, and he most certainly does not tell her about his doubts, his troubles, or the emotional weight of hearing about the worst of humanity (like that guy who sold his kids for a ticket) through the confessional booth day in and day out with a script that just says “Xipe forgives you.”
And Robin is, frankly, way stronger and smarter than her brother seems to give her any damn credit for. She’s left Penacony to tour the universe, and she headed into a warzone to help in the process, got shot in the throat, and kept singing after recovery. She’s experienced so much more of the universe than Sunday has, she’s had actual conversations with people about their problems that were not one-sided and driven by some sort of ulterior motive. She’s been the first to pick apart his faulty logic or catch on to him hiding something every time, (whether she mentions it in the moment or not,) she was the first to realize something was wrong and wake up in the end, and she ultimately rallied everyone to save her brother from himself. Had Sunday confided in her, talked about deeper life philosophies with her, shared his thoughts and feelings with her, not been isolated or isolated himself from her, treated her like she was just as strong as he was, things may have turned out very different.
Who’s really more sheltered? Robin, or her brother who tried to protect her from it all?
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oblonger · 2 days
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I have no idea how or why my brain decided to come up with this idea while I read this post, but it's making me mentally unwell.
The idea is as follows: What if Dusknoir finds and befriends the hero before they meet Grovyle?
Like, oh my goodness gracious the POTENTIAL!!
Dusknoir finds this human child, and takes them in as a form of pity. They are weak. Incapable of defending themselves. But they deserve to have a chance to live. As miserable as a life in this world would be.
He keeps them protected and fed. They grow on him. They trust him more than anything because there was nobody else that gave them that trust. And he loves them more than he loves himself. They are his child now.
Then something unforseen happens that gets them separated. He wants so badly to search for them. But Dialga keeps threatening him. Telling him that if he does, he will make certain that those Sableye he also cares for will not live to see another moment, and he will force him to watch.
Meanwhile, the human is taken in by Grovyle. They grow quickly on him as well. They can't really understand each other, not as well as he would want, but they occasionally say something about a 'Dusknoir' he thinks. And they clearly speak about him with fondness.
Eventually, Grovyle and the Hero meet up with Celebi, who is being chased by Dusknoir. Dusknoir doesn't actually know that the human is with them until he sees them fall into the passage that turns them into a pokemon.
But the hero does know. They catch a glimpse of him while hiding at one point. It's crushing. He's tried to kill Grovyle and Celebi multiple times. They want to try to get them to understand, but Grovyle doesn't understand the language they speak. He stops them whenever they try. and they feel too scared and betrayed to approach him.
Dusknoir thinks that he killed his own child. He's sent spiraling into complete and unquestioning devotion towards Dialga. He's experienced such a horrific loss that he can never get close to anyone again. Treating the Sableye that work for him with a cold detachment that only gets worse as time goes on. He still cares for them, but he would never admit it.
Grovyle is extremely angry, because he saw the hero as a sibling. And it's clear that whenever they used to talk about Dusknoir, they did it with a fondness. So not only did he kill Grovyle's only family, he also betrayed them.
The Hero loses all of their memories, even forgetting their name, but they don't lose that feeling of betrayal they felt as a human. They are reluctant to trust the partner because of it.
Things continue like they did in eos up until Dusknoir arrives in Treasure Town.
Being around him makes the hero feel those same emotions of betrayal that they had thought that they had gotten over after becoming friends with their partner and other guild members.
Dusknoir doesn't recognize the hero. He's under the impression that they died when they entered that tampered passage. He still puts on the act, but the more eagle-eyed members of the guild can tell that it's just that. An act. They can't figure out why though.
The incident happens.
Dusknoir goes through that whole, cartoonish villain song-and-dance monolog before finally ordering the execution.
The Sableyes barely begins when he, in an uncharacteristic moment of emotion and panic, (to everyone but him) demands they stop.
He recognized the way the hero winced when the Sableye began their assault.
They're alive.
Sweet heavens above. His child is alive.
...
And then everything made sense. Why they were staying with Grovyle. Why Grovyle talked about them they way he did the few times that they did talk mid-fight. That look of utter terror on the hero's face that he refused to accept that he recognized.
He betrayed them.
Twice.
No. Three times.
First by not searching for them when they were alive.
Second by hunting them down.
And now by this.
He treated them like they were his child.
He loved them like they were his child.
And now he's the greatest evil they could ever conceive.
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Lost Boys
Fandom: DC Comics, Batfam, Superfam
Summary: After Jonathan Lane Kent wipes himself from existence by canceling his own timeline, he finds himself stuck in the afterlife where he meets Jason Todd. He still wonders about the life un-lived on Earth, and how his parents would've felt about him.
Jason Todd, who is making the most of being dead, struggles with the reality of what he's left behind. He has one wish and one wish only: to send his family one final message.
Chapters: 3/?
Characters: Jonathan Lane Kent (Laney), Jason Todd, Catherine Todd, Boston Brand, Bruce Wayne, Clark Kent, Lois Lane, John Constantine, Raven, Talia al Ghul, Ra's al Ghul, Dick Grayson, Tim Drake
Relationships: Platonic JayLaney
Additional Tags: Angst, Platonic Relationships, Magical Jason Todd, Resurrected Jason Todd, Queerplatonic Relationships, Canon Divergent AU, POV Multiple
Chapter Three: Someone Saved My Life Tonight (Laney Kent's POV)
I was so excited to go to the dance with Jason that I let it slip to Catherine that I didn't know how to dance. I just wanted to impress Jason, and I didn't realize it then, but talking to Catherine was probably the best decision I ever made in my life.
I didn't know her very well. I just knew that she was Jason's mom and that she was dead just like we were. She put on some music and started to dance.
"Doesn't matter if you can dance or not. You have to feel comfortable with yourself first," Catherine explained. It was easy for her to say. She was a good dancer. She took my hands and spun me around to get me to loosen up. I didn't want to laugh, but she eventually won that battle. Once I loosened up, it didn't really matter to me if I could dance or not. I didn't even notice that Jason came in from outside.
When I finally turned to see him standing there, I could feel my whole face heat up, and I turned my back to him. "For someone who's never danced, you're pretty good," Jason complimented before going straight to the kitchen.
I sat down at the table next to Catherine, and she looked at me for a moment as if she'd found something out about me. I shrank down in the seat and took a breath. "Jason, remember when you were little and your dad—."
Jason shook his head at her, and that was that. I didn't know anything about his birth father, and that was the first time I'd ever heard anyone mention him. Catherine opened her mouth to apologize, and Jason smiled and shook his head. "It's okay... I just don't want to talk about that," Jason reassured her, "Ma, why don't you come with us tonight? It'd be nice to see you get out of the house." I agreed with him.
She shook her head. "No, I couldn't—."
"Please? Catherine, it'll be fun," I interrupted. She finally gave in and said yes. I was a little relieved to know that she'd be coming with us. I could see Jason lighten up a little bit too. His shoulders dropped, and he came around and sat down with us.
I sometimes wondered if my mom would've loved me like Catherine loved Jason. I sometimes wondered if she would've loved me at all. I think, in a way, that scared me more than the concept of having to tell my father all the horrible things I'd done. I was so busy thinking about that, I didn't hear someone knock on the door. Catherine got up, and I blinked hard. She stepped outside and closed the door.
Jason gestured at me to look at him, and he mouthed, "Who is that?" I shrugged and went to the window to look, and I saw a ghost-like man in a red costume. "Well?"
"Some guy in a red costume with a 'D' on the chest," I explained. Jason stood up, and I grabbed his wrist. He looked like he was ready to fight someone, and it scared me to see him so angry. "No," I pleaded as I tried to hold onto him. He was stronger than he looked.
He wriggled loose and opened the door.
"What do you want with my ma?" Jason asked. I followed behind him and took hold of his wrist again. I was too scared to grab his hand. I looked at Boston and then at Jason, who had his fists balled up.
"Jason, it's okay. Boston was just asking me to the dance," Catherine reassured him as she brushed her knuckle against his cheek. "It's okay." Jason didn't move, and Catherine leaned forward and looked him in the eye. "It's okay, Sweet Pea," she whispered, and he relaxed his shoulders and went back inside.
I never thought he could be so hotheaded. He plopped down in his chair at the table. "Jason?" I whispered.
"She's gonna say no, right?" Jason asked. "She was gonna go with us. She doesn't need a date."
I opened my mouth to speak, but I realized Jason didn't want to hear my opinion. I went back to eating as I sat and listened to what he had to say. He stormed out before Catherine could come back, leaving me alone with her when she got back. "Where's Jason?" Catherine asked.
I frowned and took a sip of juice. "Why's he so upset?" I mumbled. Catherine sat across from me.
"I don't have the—. A lot of men in our life have hurt us. He's just being protective," Catherine explained, "He'll be okay once we talk."
"You aren't gonna go with him, though, right?" I questioned.
"Laney, I'm going to go with Boston, but not because I want to hurt Jason. Jason will always come first, but I have to have my own life—. Death? Afterlife? I have to have my own afterlife, Lane," Catherine replied. I fidgeted with my hands. "It'll be alright."
I started to worry after an hour passed and he didn't come back. "I'm gonna go to the lake and find him," I whispered. Catherine took a deep breath and nodded. I went out the front door and walked down to the lake, where Jason sat skipping stones with Boston.
I watched them from behind a tree. "You're not my father," Jason mumbled. I thanked whatever being responsible for super hearing. Boston looked down at Jason and nodded.
"Yeah, I know... And I'm not trying to hurt you. I just think Catherine's a real special lady," Boston whispered, "I'm not gonna hurt nobody, Jay. I can promise you that. Even if it doesn't work out, I promise I won't hurt either of you." Jason didn't look at him. He took another stone and skipped it across the lake.
Jason turned his head discreetly and looked directly at me. I froze and just stood there, staring back at him. He didn't say anything to me, but I could tell Jason knew I was listening. He flashed a smile, and I let out a breath of relief. Everything was going to be okay.
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shadowedvales · 27 days
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so… in the additional media of stranger things (specifically the comics i’m mentioning), it was initially brenner’s idea/plan to kill off the other test subjects because they weren’t performing as well as eleven was. it was his best solution because that way, all the resources, time, and money could instead be placed only to her. and i just…. sure henry is a fine character and the massacre makes a lot of sense to me, but i think i am once again gonna change up my canon to actually fit this potential narrative instead.
i genuinely think the comic canon of the lab and brenner is far more intriguing than the show. everything with 9/9.5, ricky, and francine. eleven being the only one who grew up completely in the lab. those other kids were either volunteers, well into their teens, or had some semblance of a home life. eleven was the only one practically moulded from the womb. and they all had such a range of interesting powers. i firmly stand with the idea that jane is the only one who can contact the void.
brenner’s entire point of view on the lab subjects changed the second he found out terry was pregnant. he discovered he could steal this baby and make her his own. there would be no convincing the child because it’s all she would have ever known. because of this, i would not put it past a man like brenner to kill the other subjects for the sake of the “greater good” in this case, eleven.
eleven’s gifts just continue thriving beyond his wildest expectations. brenner would never dare assume that having moulded her from the womb, she would still be able to grow into her own person, her own mind, and one day be able to see him for exactly who he was.
back before season four aired, it was obvious there were other test subjects because jane was 011. so there were at least ten kids before her. but i always liked the idea/assumed that she was the last experiment because she was the most successful. that they didn’t need anyone after her because she was fulfilling everything they set out for her to do. with flying colours.
i just think the whole rainbow room idea, pitting the kids against each other thing… been there, done that. boring and predictable. i think at this point my portrayal of her time in hawkins lab really stems from the complete isolation she endured. where having the rainbow room, although eleven was obviously the most isolated out of the kids, brings that sense of community and sister/brotherhood. albeit extremely warped and toxic. knowing that she wasn’t alone in that experience just. doesn’t sit well with me. i think it’s important to note that she was alone, physically and mentally. which is why kali is also so important to her growth. i thought a lot of the flashbacks of her time in the lab during season four was really boring, repetitive, and just very predictable. although peter becoming vecna was a surprise to me, and was a nice little twist, the idea of her having an ally on the inside was really interesting.
maybe they did get as far as they do in canon, peter ballad was telling the truth about everything, about some of the workers there being prisoners like him, and he really wanted to get her out and to safety. but before they can escape through the pipes, they’re caught. peter is shot on the spot, and eleven is put into the isolation room for a few days as punishment. in this timeline, henry would be vecna, but henry would not be peter ballad.
when eleven turned seven, and was already showing extreme promise, where the other children were average at best, brenner had the eight children killed. kali had already escaped. this was the main cause for peter to gain eleven’s trust and try to get her out. because if brenner could murder his “children” in cold blood, there’s no way eleven was safe even in spite of her power.
when eleven is allowed out of the isolation room, her testing becomes more rigorous in attempt to distance and make her forget about what she attempted to do with peter. brenner begins gaslighting her, saying that there was never a peter, that she must have been dreaming. eleven does ask “papa” about “mama”, given peter told her of the day terry broke in the lab, but brenner is convincing enough to make eleven believe it was all in her head. say she is around eight years old, meaning the same timeline of season fours canon flashbacks.
i still do wanna keep the henry creel canon, and keep him as 001. brenner didn’t have him killed alongside the other test subjects, because who knows, one day he could become an even better asset than 011. brenner definitely wants to be able to control henry, but keeps the chip in him because, for the moment, doesn’t know how. killing him would be too big of a loss.
when eleven is ten years old, henry’s concealed powers break free and he manages to get the chip out himself, and unleashes hell onto hawkins lab. he almost kills brenner by snapping his bones, but eleven manages to stop him. her extreme abilities are unleashed, and she sends henry to the upside down. she does fall into a coma due to the extremity of the situation, but she does not forget what happened. brenner believes she’s the perfect weapon as she stepped in to save him without a second thought, was able to defeat henry, and opened a door to something he never thought possible. eleven is rewarded for her efforts. although she remembers the entire battle / confrontation, her memories regarding the portal are very hazy.
brenner decides not to focus on the portal straight away, instead gets her training harder and harder to see what else she can accomplish. also loved the idea of brenner sending her into the void to “look for him” so that will definitely be kept.
by the time she escapes and season one begins, her knowledge of the upside down is basically what we see in canon. because she passed out the moment after she sent henry away, she was once again gaslighted into believing she merely threw him through the glass and killed him. for two years she believed this, until making contact with the demogorgan, and those memories return completely.
due to her saving brenner’s life, (it was pure instinct. she happened to be there. saw her “papa” hurt and knew she had to make him better.) brenner constantly thanks her. but in a very condescending way. tells her: “you saved me so i can continue saving you.” aka, harness your abilities and see what else i can achieve from you. despite the fact that she saved his life, these words and phrases make her feel indebted to him. that she owes him something further.
i don't realistically see her thriving with her speech improvement until she's well into her twenties at least. her slowed development, sensory and social deprivation causes a serious delay in language. surrounded by other children she would have overheard conversations, some would have spoken to her. her conveniently forgetting her upbringing pre the battle with henry just isn't good enough for me anymore. it makes more sense for her to have been raised alone.
it also helps indicate why she gravitated towards the boys when they found her in the woods. they would have been the first people her age she ever remembered seeing. as far as she knew, during the lab there was no one like her. everyone was much older, they were adults-- although she stayed with benny, i'm not sure if she would have stuck around very long. where she followed the boys home without thought.
also it's important to note that after time, jane does understand that peter ballad was a real person, and was truly the first person (aside from terry) who wanted the best for her. when she remembers him, knows that brenner was lying, she deals with immense guilt regarding his death. he was shot right in front of her eyes, because he was trying to help her. this is another catalyst as to why after season two, jane never refers to brenner as papa. she does not give him that sort of credit.
#study‚ in my dreams it's all real and my heart has so much to reveal.#THINKING THOUGHTS. i have had this concept in mind for a while but i THINK i’ve fleshed it out properly now.#will write this up properly one day (never).#although henry offering eleven a place at his side wouldn’t be canon#he would definitely still look at her as an enemy for basically stopping his revenge.#AND the whole speech between he and jane never sat right with me.#saying brenner made him what he was / that it wasnt his fault etc. Like. No? henry was a sociopath. he killed his family.#brenner didn’t do anything to make him who he is. so jane always saw him for exactly what he was#and there’s absolutely no sympathy there.#and then regarding my season four canon as her regaining her powers by remembering the massacre/the fight. i am changing that to her#regaining her powers by simply confronting her past. understanding what she went through. finding ways to cope with it physically and#mentally. getting coping mechanisms from her therapist. seeking help. not needing to know WHY this happened to her (because there is not.#and will never be a reason.) but finding ways to accept it and move on. how to move on from eleven and become janessa ives.#also just because in this case henry doesn’t massacre a bunch of kids? It doesn’t make him any less evil. in this instance i am following#the idea that some of the workers were prisoners there in hawkins lab. and henry killed a bunch of the workers. so would definitely have#killed some innocent people.#just because i am separating peter from henry. does NOT mean i am excusing anything from henry/vecna.#in this case they are two completely different people. although i highkey wanna use jcb as peter because he just did the role SO WELL and#was SO BELIEVABLE i’m not sure about it yet. because i don’t want anyone to get the impression that i’m making excuses for henry.#BUT YES.#this be the new canon. <3#idc brenner is such a good fuckin villain he’s disgusting but so intriguing.
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bobmckenzie · 1 year
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every time I think about the backstory I made up for Danny and Becky's mom I have to laugh... the hoops I went through just so I could say they weren't in love with each other... 💀💀💀
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#made up some convoluted ass misunderstanding-leads-to-a drunken-one-night-stand-pregnancy storyline FOR WHY#because i want to be his first love 🙄🙄🙄😮‍💨#IN MY DEFENSE the movie already paints her in a bad light i mean she straight up LEFT her daughter#presumably for another family by the way becky describes it#i don't get the impression that she visits/calls or is in their lives at all anymore. idk if that's what the writers intended#but it sure seems that way#caitiechat#story here for anyone who cares bc i like sharing lore LOL:#basically kevin invites danny to a football party to try to make up for a big fight they had.#probably like the anniversary of his championship game or when he got his heisman trophy. anyway danny's been down on his luck lately and#gets drunk for the first time in his life and is introduced to becky's future mom. who drunkenly assumes that if he's an o'shea he must be#KEVIN oshea. so she comes onto him thinking he's a big football star and he doesn't know thats what she thinks so he goes along with it#bc he's drunk and depressed and just wants to feel something. afterwards she's introduced to Kevin and realizes her mistake and Danny#realizes what she thought. which is just another slap in the face. he tries to forget abt the whole thing but three months later#she tracks him down bc she is preggers with Becky 😶‍🌫️ so they try to co-parent but after 4 years or so she calls it quits#and Danny raises Becky as a single father for 7ish more years nd thats when my s/i comes into the picture 🤡👍🏻#and ofc in this universe patty doesn't exist LOL don't get me wrong i like her but this is my AU babe 🧘🏻 i am the romantic interest now#sorry creators of little giants for not being normal about your movie <3#urbaenia
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magentagalaxies · 1 year
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overdid it at my improv show last night and now all i can do is lay in bed having blorbo thoughts
#it was my first time performing live comedy in at least a year and oh my god i didn't realize how much i'd missed it#i love doing behind-the-scenes stuff but something about being onstage with no script and the job of entertaining people#i'm like ah yes this is why i want to be a comedian no matter what#i'd done some virtual improv shows since the pandemic but being in person is so much better#my scene partner could just be like ''hey i'm giving you a piggy back now'' and i'd be like ok no follow up questions#i trust you know what you're doing in this scene enough for me to put my entire weight on you (both metaphorically and literally)#also spontaneously transformed from acting as myself to acting as taffy (one of my recurring improv characters) in like 0.5 seconds#and i didn't even know i was going to be doing taffy at this show (neither did my scene partner they just set me up perfectly)#idk if i've talked about taffy before but i love her she was my first major recurring comedic character#her whole thing is she desperately wants to be part of this wealthy family called the van bortels#and comes up with wild schemes to get there such as living in their vents for the entire pandemic#she also has a husband who's a raccoon that is also nonbinary#i love playing taffy bc she was the first character i ever did that was like. oh people enjoy this. oh people REALLY want to see this.#and when i came home from college the first time we did a scene where there was an imposter-taffy that was another cast member#basically doing their own impression of taffy#and it genuinely made me emotional like wow i made such a distinct character that people are doing their own imitations of her#and it's still unmistakably taffy#anyway maybe i should bring taffy out more. i've been focusing a lot on aubrey lately bc ze's my favorite character i do#but i have at least two other characters i developed in improv over the years that people seem to enjoy#(the third is taytay but i legit haven't played taytay since 2020 so i barely remember what she's like)
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bushwattle · 2 years
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majiburger · 11 days
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i know it seems from my occasional vent post on here that i have a lot of bad days, but actually i have a LOT of good days, almost every day is a good day for me except for days where i have to interact with any family member except my mother
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selfcontainedunivcrse · 4 months
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I actually have a bunch of notes on Cion now I figured him out while i was writing that. I got him. I Understand .
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deadsetobsessions · 4 months
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Damian Wayne was like a duckling. A violent, stab-happy, danger-prone duckling, yes, but a duckling all the same. Which means when Danny almost got stabbed by a sleepy, instinct driven Damian, he was able to wave it off with a laugh. Damian, on the other hand, stared in horror at the butter knife firmly lodged in Danny’s arm.
“PENNYWORTH!” Danny jerked back at Damian’s scream. “RICHARD! FATHER!”
God damn, the kid had a pair of lungs on him. Danny’s wince was interpreted as pain to Damian, who gently grabbed his injured arm and started to pull him towards the kitchen’s marble island.
Danny blinked, non plussed as his hearing picked up a thundering of feet as the present family members scrambled towards Damian’s distress call.
“Wait, Damian, I’m fine. It’s-”
“You have been impaled, you imbecile! Had it been any of the other simpletons, they would have-!”
“Ouch.” Danny put his other hand in mock hurt over his slow-beating heart. He literally doesn’t care about the butter knife. He’s just impressed there was enough force in there to impale him. “Are you calling me names now? After- gasp- stabbing me?”
Before Damian could reply, the beginnings of regret, remorse, and guilt on his face, Alfred, Dick, and Bruce burst into the kitchen.
“What happened?!”
“My word, master Danny!”
“What is it?!”
“I’m fine. It’s like a small stab. Not even a big stab. I’m good.”
Dick paled, seeing Danny’s arm clutched in Damian’s hand.
“That’s- that’s a knife. In your arm. How is that ‘fine’?!”
“What happened.” Bruce asked Damian, gently removing Danny’s arm from Damian’s death clutch.
“I- I did not mean to,” Damian starts, guilt coloring his voice.
“He didn’t,” Danny cuts in. “I startled him and got stabbed for being dumb. I won’t fault him for having a defense mechanism like that, ancient knows what I might do if you guys startled me.”
The awkward silence that settled at his words made Danny twitch awkwardly.
“Uh, so, can I add this knife to my collection? Even if I didn’t get mugged?”
“Danny.”
“Bruce.” Danny stared stubbornly back. With his uninsured hand, he patted Damian on the head. He was going to enjoy the fluffiness before Damian’s guilt was no longer enough to hold him back from snapping at Danny’s hand like a grumpy alligator. Bruce loses, obviously. He’s a teenager who was also an ex-vigilante. Batman’s got nothing on a determined halfa.
“Master Danny, I must insist you refrain from getting stabbed. There is only so much gauze and antiseptic cream in the house.” Alfred returned- huh, when did he leave?- with a med kit.
Danny called bullshit because he knows there’s a whole ass medical bay beneath the manor.
“Sorry.”
“No need to apologize.” Alfred said, promptly beginning the extraction of the butter knife.
“Are you okay?” Dick asked, hovering worriedly. “He- are you…?”
Damian was allowing Danny to ruffle his hair, so…
“Yep, I’m good. This isn’t even on my top thirty most painful stabbings,” and it really wasn’t. That honor was given to the GIW and that one time Jazz accidentally stabbed him with her earrings. “That was pretty impressive, actually. It’s like, a butter knife. The other ones had pointy ends.”
“Do not clump me with those pathetic wastes of spaces. I am naturally superior and would… would never harm you on purpose.” Damian said, getting quiet at the end like he was trying to plead to Danny to believe him.
“Of course not. But- if you want help me keep the knife, you can hit me with a mug, it would technically be a mugging.”
The pun got the desired effect. Damian leaned away with a disgruntled look and Dick stopped hovering as close in order to let out a small cackle.
“Done.”
“You should go get changed, kiddo. We’re going to see Tim’s photography at the Gotham Gallery today.”
“Oh, for real?” Danny patted Damian’s fluffy hair one last time, pushing away from the counter. “Oh, I’ll clean up here first and-”
“That will not be necessary,” Alfred scolded, a mop somehow already in his hands. “Please see to it you are prepared for the day.”
“Thanks, Alfred. Can I keep the knife.”
“Very well.”
“Sweet. See you guys later?” Danny pranced off after seeing the nods.
——
“He’s… he got stabbed a lot. Before us, I mean.” Dick tapped a furious rhythm onto the counter. “Not that we’ve stabbed him until now but even once is concerning for a civilian.”
“He was used to it.” Bruce replied.
“Perhaps we should join Todd in his endeavor and ensure that his worthless tormentors are permanently out of the picture.”
“God, he said top thirty. He was counting.”
Damian silently withdrew a kitchen knife.
“No murder with my quality chef’s knives, Master Damian.”
“Tt.”
“Master Jason follows the same rules. Now, out of the kitchen. I may be old, but I remember the last time master Bruce and master Dick stepped foot in here and I will not have a repeat.”
6K notes · View notes
harryspet · 5 months
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bambi eyes (1) r. cameron
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[Warnings] soft!dark!rafe cameron x reader, daddy!rafe x little!reader older!rafe, crimeboss!rafe, rafe takes advantage of traumatized reader, DUBCON, dd/lg, sex trafficking, sexual slavery, sugar daddy rafe, stockholm syndrome, spoiling kink, unprotected sex, forced? age regression, little editing, 18+ READ AT YOUR OWN RISK
A/N: My first Rafe fic :)
word count: 4.4k
In which Rafe finds a "healthy" outlet for dealing with his daddy issues.
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Rafe finally felt he deserved to be back at Tannyhill. The house had remained empty over the last five years, Sarah wanted little to do with her real family anymore, Rafe made the tough decision to send Wheezie to a boarding school in Georgia and now she was starting college there. Rafe had cleaned up his act and gotten clean, mostly clean, and managed to save Cameron Development from complete ruin. 
As soon as the police were off his tail, and he’d brought back some legitimacy to the Cameron name, he could develop the true relationships he needed to become unstoppable. It started with Barry, then gangsters from the mainland, and then Rafe's gained connections with the cartels. He then rebuilt the empire the Camerons once had in the Bahamas and now he owned ten times the amount of properties they used to own there. 
He could achieve everything Ward never could have. He could be better a man than his father ever could. 
After half a year in Nassau, Rafe was finally back in Kildare, and he had plans to make Tannyhill the ultimate fortress. He had finally acquired the last missing piece of his American dream – you. He eyed you in his rearview mirror, passed out in the backseat of his truck, before parking in front of the huge, white house. 
There were already white moving trucks parked nearby, men in black clothing unloading new furniture he’d purchased and “merchandise” he’d acquired from the Caribbean Don he’d been working with. That Don is who he purchased you from, picking you out in a lineup of twenty girls. 
The Don clapped his hands together before he said, “Just tell me which ones you would like to have a closer look at. I’ll have them stand and turn for you. If you have something in mind — perhaps a certain skin tone, curviness, hair color, I can make a suggestion.”
Rafe responded that he didn’t have a preference and that he would know you were the one when he saw you. 
Looking through one-way glass, Rafe noticed aspects of each girl, including the tiredness behind their eyes and the elegance at which each of them moved their bodies. The Don had each girl stand and spin for him. There was not a single falter or misplaced step until Rafe saw you. When it was time for you to spin, you almost tripped over your own foot. You fixed yourself quickly and fixed your gaze forward however, Rafe noticed your eyes began to wander. It felt like you were looking right at him. Like you could see him. 
“One of my favorites,” He said in thick Creole, “She’s quite an angel if you’re looking for someone who’s a little tamer. Good hips, natural hair, the breasts and ass are real too. I’m sure you’ll notice. For you, since you’re a friend, fifteen thousand for the whole night.” 
The Don wanted Rafe to become a new investor in his trade and possibly bring girls to Kildare in order to expand his clientele. He wanted to impress Rafe, and let him have a night with one of his well-trained girls, although Rafe was looking to make a final purchase. 
He hadn’t had a real conversation with you yet, he was in such a hurry to get back to the States that he had to keep you drugged for the time being. It would be better this way, he convinced himself, since he would be able to have the house ready before you came to. He got out the truck before opening the back door. Although you stirred slightly in your sleep, Rafe knew he wouldn’t wake you as he pulled you across the seat and wrapped you in his arms. Bridal style, he carried you up the patio and through the front doors. 
An elaborate security system now kept track of everyone coming and going from the house. He had so much more than his father ever would have, but that also meant he had so much more to lose. He was a different man than the last time he was here. Much more mature. He used to throw meaningless parties so he could appear well-known, favorited by all, and hook up with girls who only cared about getting free drugs from him. This time things would be different. 
“Hey, hey, careful with that!” Rafe barked at one of the men carrying a white tea table that he’d spent thousands on.  He was attempting and failing to carry it and the two matching chairs that it came with. Rafe should’ve known what quality movers he was getting when he let Barry put his men on the job, “You think I’m paying you to break my shit?”
Rafe carried you up the winding stairs of his childhood home, imagining you feeling like this place was yours, just as much as he did. He thought he’d feel slightly more melancholy, looking at the familiar yellow walls, the elegant chandeliers, and period furnishings. Instead, he felt a weight lifted off of him. Your bedroom was one of the old guest rooms, only a few doors down from the master, and unlocked with his fingerprint. 
The large room was freshly painted white, a twin-sized canopy bed was placed on the farthest wall, and Rafe placed you on top of the cloud-like comforter. You were still wearing one of his button-ups and a pair of his briefs that fit you more like shorts, Rafe not having had the time to dress you in the way he actually wanted to.
“Put it over in that corner, carefully,” He spoke to the mover carrying the table, although his eyes were focused on you. 
“Mr. Cameron-”
“You’re dismissed. Tell Barry I’m expecting him tonight at nine.” 
As the man turned to leave, Rafe quickly followed to shut the door behind him. He took another glance around the room, deciding that the table set was the perfect edition. He could bring you your breakfast there in the morning and, who knows, maybe you’d come to like the expensive tea set he also bought you. 
Rafe spent a good amount of time just watching you sleep and obsessively thinking about what might he say to you when you awoke. His anxious thoughts didn’t go away when he stopped doing drugs, they worsened in fact, but you were his new medium to focus on. You were healthy for him. 
He spent all the time he had between his meeting with Barry, caring for you, “Daddy’s going to take care of you,” He brought you to the bathtub and gently scrubbed you clean, shaving all the areas he preferred to be hairless, even taking the time to braid your hair so that it was out of your face. He quite liked you like this, like his very own doll, someone he could mold into a perfect Kook princess. Women in the real world often perplexed him, especially women like Sarah, who took the luxuries they were provided for granted. 
You’d appreciate everything that Rafe could offer you, he knew that, and you’d be obedient as well. He brought you back to the main room once you were dried, and clean and your skin was moisturized and scented with vanilla. He laid you on the soft carpet in front of your bed and dressed you in a white nightgown and then took his time rolling white knee socks up your leg. 
He could take his time, pacing himself, as he ran his fingers over every inch of you. He’d been rock hard ever since he undressed you originally, and he debated whether to take a quick sample of you. 
You have plenty of time, Rafe, he reminded himself. 
His phone vibrated a short while later after he tucked you back into bed, and he clicked the notification. Video of the driveway appeared on the screen, and Rafe saw Barry climbing from his car, “Daddy will be back very soon,” He spoke although you couldn’t hear, placed a kiss on your forehead although you couldn’t feel it, and shut the door quietly although you wouldn’t wake. 
As soon as Rafe opened the front door, Barry was already shouting, “Country Club! How you been, man?” Rafe’s hand was already out to shake his. Truthfully, and sadly, Rafe would consider Barry his oldest friend. “You happy about all the money I’ve been making you?”
“Thrilled,” Rafe spoke sarcastically, leading Barry to his father’s old office. He thought back to the days when he had to creep through this room and steal because Ward didn’t trust him. Now, it was all his, “Speaking of …”
Swiftly, Barry pulled a roll of hundred-dollar bills from his pocket and dropped it in Rafe’s hand. Leaning against the oak desk, Rafe began to count, “That’s what I got for the boats. Those cars are going to take a little bit longer to sell.”
“And why’s that?”  
“Those cars are classics, man, so I have a little bit of a bidding war going on,” Barry explained.
“I said I wanted them moved quickly,” Rafe sighed. He needed to get rid of as many of his father’s old things as possible if he wanted this place to be really his. 
“I’ll get you everything by the end of the week,” Rafe nodded, continuing to flip through the bills,  although normally this would be about the time he’d throw a tantrum, “So … heard you got yourself a beautiful girl-”
“Your guys run their mouths.”
“But it’s true?” Barry flashed his gold tooth, “You whipped, Country Club?”
Rafe opened the safe behind the tall bookcases, punched in the code, and safely tucked away the twenty-thousand dollars. 
“Don’t worry about it, I wouldn’t let you anywhere near her anyways.”
Barry scoffs, “That breaks my heart, Rafe. I’m tired of these Pogue girls and the mainland chicks are even worse. In the old days, we used to share. You won’t help a brother out?”
Rafe smirked, “Like you said, that was the old days.” 
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You felt weighed down by whatever you were lying underneath, your eyelids were so heavy it took you a full minute to blink them open. You moved each limb slowly, trying to get blood flowing through them again. You saw sunlight reflecting off porcelain walls and felt creamy soft blankets enveloping you. You should feel comforted. 
Pushing away the blankets holding you down, you pulled yourself up, strong enough to get onto your hands and knees. You stepped off the platform, off the bed, touching your toes against soft carpet but quickly your legs gave out. You whined as your knees hit the ground, surely bruising your skin, and let yourself fall back on your bottom. 
Something fell down with you and turning your head slightly you found a teddy bear. You grabbed it by its arm, examining its chestnut fur and the pink bow tied around its neck. What? That was the question forming in your mind. You looked back at the bed you’d fallen out of and your eyes darted around the room. Three doors, a wall with big windows and long curtains, a table with chairs, a toy chest, a tall armoire, and a bookcase. This room did not belong to you, even in your wildest dreams, you’d never been somewhere so nice. 
You noticed details in the wallpaper; small pink flowers decorated each wall, and white trim lined all the edges. All the furniture was white as well with elegant designs, and your original thought was that you must be in a castle. 
You attempted to stand again and managed to get straight up on your wobbling legs until there was a small click, and the door began to open. You quickly stumbled back before you were sitting back on top of the mattress. 
“You’ll go with Mr. Cameron now. To America,” Master said, “And you’ll remember your manners, won’t ya? Don’t want to end up like your friend.”
Mr. Cameron stood in front of you now. You remembered him being tall, but you didn’t remember feeling so small in front of him. With hands holding a tray in front of him, his mouth parted as his blue eyes raked over your figure. 
You gripped the comforter tightly as he stepped closer, “You’ll have to take it easy,” He said first, walking over to that small table and placing the tray down, “Let me help you.”
When he came towards you, he held out both of his hands. You felt like you usually did, terrified, but there was always a voice in the back of your head telling you to obey. There would be worse pain than a bruised knee if you didn’t do as Mr. Cameron said. You grabbed ahold of his hands, allowing him to help you up before his hands moved to your hips as he steadied you. 
“How do you feel?” He asked, a genuineness in his tone that you weren’t expecting. 
Your lips parted and you realized you hadn’t spoken in so long. You also hadn’t had anyone ask you that question in a long, long time, “I’m … okay,” You spoke quietly as he searched your face. He was staring so intently that you grew insecure, turning your eyes away. 
“I brought breakfast,” He began to guide you over to the table. You took slow steps, one in front of the other, holding onto him tightly when you felt you might fall. He set you gently down in the chair before taking the seat opposite you. You could see out the windows from this seat, your eyes finding a long dock and the ocean. When he cleared his throat, your eyes snapped back to his, “I’m not much of a cook but there’s a lady who works for me …she makes great pancakes, french toast, anything you could want really.”
You stared down at scrambled eggs, sausage, toast, and a pancake with a chocolate chip smiley face and a whipped cream nose. He started to pour you a glass of water, pushing it towards you, “Drink something,” He said, “You’ve been sleeping for a long time.”
You were really thirsty, you realized, and you took the glass he poured for you. When he didn’t pour himself one, a question rose in your mind, “Will this … make me sleep again?”
He immediately shook his head, “No, no. Drink, please.”
You were thankful, welcoming the nourishment. As you devoured the glass of water, he began to cut up the pancake into small pieces. You watched his concentrated face as he meticulously poured the syrup. Your mind didn’t stay on his interesting behavior because you were focused on eating next. 
“My name is Rafe,” He said, “But you’ll call me Daddy.”
You paused, your mouth full of pancakes, “Okay? Nod yes if you understand,” He added. 
You nodded your head, starting to chew again, and a smile seemed to pull at his lips. That’s what he must like all his girls to call him. “Good, that’s rule number one …This is your room, from now on. I’ll show you around the house after you settle in more. For now, you need permission to leave this room. Yeah?”
Again, you nodded, before swallowing your food. Rafe reached across the table with a napkin, wiping syrup from your chin, “I’m sorry,” You said, feeling embarrassed. 
“No need to apologize,” He assured you, “From now on, I’m going to take care of you.”
Take care of you. You weren’t positive about what he meant. 
Your hands moved to your lap, “Can I ask … how many girls you take care of?” 
His head tilted, and he seemed amused, “Just you, sweet girl.”
“This whole room is just for me?”
“Yes, and this whole house will be just for us,” He answers, “Here, that reminds me. I was going to wait until dinner but . . . I can’t wait.”
You watched as he reached into the pocket of his khaki pants, pulling out a silver necklace with a beautiful, pearl pendant. Still, you found yourself struggling to wrap your head around what was going on. Rafe stood, coming closer in order to put the necklace around your neck. You heard a small click before Rafe pulled his fingers away. Your fingers reach up to feel the pearl, “You’ll always keep this on. Okay?”
You nodded. 
“Tell me.”
“I’ll always keep it on … Daddy,” You remembered to add. Something lit up in his eyes, and he took your chin in his hand and tilted it up further. 
“Smart girl, Bambi,” He stated, “That’s what I’ll call you.”
You nodded, although you weren’t sure why he picked it for you. It was better than “whore” or “slut” which seemed to be Master’s favorites. Bambi sounded … cute, which certainly wasn’t a way you would describe yourself, “Daddy … why …all of this, uhm, for me?”
“You’ll have everything I want you to have. And Daddy wants the best for you, understand?”
“Y-Yes, uhm … thank you.”
“C’mere, let me give you a tour of the room” He gripped underneath your arms, helping you stand. The human closeness, his warmness, wasn’t something you were expecting. You couldn’t fully let your guard down though, you were still waiting for the other shoe to drop. 
“It’s good to have, uh, a routine,” Rafe explained, before showing you every item in the room. He clearly had been involved in picking everything out which you didn’t expect,  “You’ll wake up by eight, make your bed every morning. . . your dirty laundry will go here and all your clothes are in here, if I have something specific picked out for you to wear, I’ll hang it here, you won’t wear any panties when you’re dressing for bed …and here’s the bathroom,” When you saw yourself in the mirror for the first time, your eyes widened in disbelief. Your hair was neatly braided, white bows wrapped at the end of each braid, and the nightgown made you look like . . . a doll. In the mirror, you could see Rafe lean his mouth down to your ear, “Do you like what you see?”
“I look …I think I look pretty, Daddy.”
“You do, sweet girl; that’s why I chose you.”
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This was right. Rafe couldn’t have made a better decision choosing you. He had more rules to introduce you to but didn’t want to overwhelm you. He left you to brush your teeth while he took your tray of food back to the kitchen. When he returned, he found you peeking inside the toy chest, letting the top shut a little too loudly after he seemed to frighten you, ‘It’s okay, all these things are for you. I wasn’t exactly sure what you might like.”
He kneeled down with you as you took a look inside. There were quite a lot of stuffed animals, some puzzles, coloring sets, and some dolls. “My, uh, my sister Sarah, she used to love American Girl dolls. Have you ever heard of those?” You shook your head, picking up one that was dressed like an 80’s aerobic instructor, “They have all types of dolls. I should order you one that looks more like you.”
Rafe noticed you perk up at that. “One that looks like me?” 
Your reaction made him chuckle, “Yeah, why not? If you want anything at all, you can just ask me,” Rafe could tell you didn’t believe him, although you still nodded in agreement, “I know you can’t be entertained forever by these things, but it’s better for your brain than watching TV all day. And we can watch movies together.”
“That would be nice-” Rafe leaned in to kiss you, his intrusive thought winning after staring at your lips. Rafe was surprised by how gentle it was and how gentle he still wanted to be with you. You were reacting so well to everything, he didn’t want to take the chance of ruining this. When he pulled away, you immediately started to lift your nightgown, attempting to expose yourself to him.
“You don’t have to do that,” Rafe gently grabbed your hand, pulling it away from your dress. 
“I thought you wanted me …”
“ I do, I definitely do,” Rafe laughed awkwardly, “Let’s wait a little while longer. I want to undress you myself.”
You nodded eagerly, “But I … I could use my mouth?”
Rafe couldn’t believe someone could sound so innocent even while they were offering to give a blowjob, “Not before I taste you first, sweet girl.” Sexually, Rafe liked to be in complete control. He’d decide when they were ready, what positions, and who tasted who. His mind was starting to wander a little too far. He needed to remain composed for the time being, “For now, I want you to play. I need to work for a few hours, but I will bring you lunch, and we’ll eat together, okay?”
“Okay…thank you, Daddy,” You agreed, and Rafe happily placed a kiss on your forehead. 
“You’re welcome, Bambi.”
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Rafe tried to concentrate on work, he had a million things to arrange now that he was back in Figure 8, but his eyes would wander to the live footage on his computer screen from Bambi’s bedroom. She spent a while going through the toys he bought for her, and then she neatly made up the bed, before deciding on the American Girl dolls. Next thing Rafe knew, he was in virtual meeting with his Cameron Development team but was actively scrolling through the American Girl doll website in another tab. 
Like he promised, Rafe took a break in the middle of the day to each lunch with you. Lana, Tannyhill’s newest household manager, prepared grilled sandwiches. Rafe joined you by the window seat where you had made yourself comfortable with two of the dolls and your teddy bear. You asked about Figure 8, of course, and Rafe gladly gave you the basics. 
That night, after dinner was enjoyed, Rafe laid beside you in bed. You chose a book to read together, a chapter book called Bridge to Terebithia, “I have to admit, I’m not much of a reader. But this should be easy enough, right?”
“When you were little, did you always have …this?” You asked, a few pages of reading later, “Books and clothes and seats by the window.”
“I guess I did, yeah,” Rafe answered, “It was not all rainbows and sunshine, though.”
“Your father, was he like Master?”
“Yeah, basically. He was not a good man,” Rafe closed the book, turning his eyes to you “And he’s not your Master anymore, okay? It’s me and you now. Just me and you.”
You tilted your head, nuzzling more into the pillow, “If I’m bad, you won’t send me back?”
“No, not ever,” Rafe said steadfastly. 
“You’ll punish me?”
Your words made him pause, and he could sense your worry, “I’m not going to hurt you, not in any real way,” Rafe’s hands found your waist, he gripped the bare skin beneath your nightgown, before his fingers roamed over your bottom, “You know how to be a good girl, right?”
You nodded, staring back, “Then you have nothing to worry about,” Rafe kissed you again, this time deeply and with the purpose of fully tasting you. He squeezed your bottom tight, pulling your front further against him so he could buck his hips against you. The book fell unread and to the wayside as Rafe roamed his hands over you. 
He should wait, he told himself. It was only your first day here, but you were all that he had been waiting for. The idea that he could have you anytime, anywhere, and anyway he wanted you excited him more. A moan escaped you, and Rafe knew you were overwhelmed with the sensations, but he liked the idea of you feeling too much. He wanted fear in your eyes, fear that you wouldn’t be able to take him, and then he wanted you to fully surrender to him. 
Rafe buried his face in your neck, kissing and sucking until you cried out. Rafe knew you were a good girl because you had obediently gotten into bed for the night without your panties. He wrapped a strong arm around your back, easily flipping you onto your back. Rafe pulled away, breathing heavily, as he looked down at you. 
“You okay, sweet girl?” Rafe asked, noticing your eyes were still closed. As you nodded, Rafe said, “Open your eyes for me.”
Rafe parted your legs further, reaching down to feel between your lips. Gently, he stroked up and down, feeling wetness at your entrance, “Tell Daddy how you like it.”
“I . . .” As he dipped a finger inside, your eyes shut again, squeezing tightly. This was a look of pleasure, Rafe noted, “Daddy-ah!”
“I think you want it gentle, hmm,” His index finger moved in and out slowly as his thumb caressed your clit, “I can be gentle, don’t worry.”
Rafe moved painfully slow, watching how every movement of his would change your facial expression. Once you were squeezing around his fingers and soaking the sheets, Rafe pulled down his sweatpants. He pressed his length against your entrance, watching your face as he pushed inside. You took a breath of air, your mouth forming an “o” shape as he slowly eased his way in and out. 
He pressed his body closer to you, your arms instinctively wrapping around his back, and he tucked his head beside yours, his breath caressing your ear. He was gentle like he said, but he had to test your limits and see how deep he could go. Your whimpers told him what he needed to know and he felt your nails begin to dig into his back.
“Daddy, d-daddy, daddy,” You moaned his name, sounding a bit delirious as you repeated it over and over. 
Rafe rocked harder against you, “Tell me. Say thank you for saving me Daddy.” 
“Thank you–” Your voice came out barely above a whisper but Rafe could hear your small voice in his ear, “Thank you for saving me, Daddy.” Your hips writhing beneath him, needing more of him, was the final thing that sent Rafe flying towards the edge of the cliff. 
He wanted to focus, to make himself last longer, but he needed you in that moment. His thrusts became shorter, and he sank deeper inside of you as he reached his peak, “Jesus,” Rafe gasped as you squeezed him tightly, your warmness pulsed around him, “Fuck.” 
He resisted his desire to stay inside of you forever, pulling out and slumping beside you. Rafe’s eyes were wide, and he found himself staring at the ceiling for a moment to process what happened. 
“Was that . . . good?” Your voice brought him back down to reality.
“Perfect, sweet girl,” Rafe took you in his arms, and you cuddled into his chest. Again, he whispered, “Jesus.”
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Please let me know what your thoughts and predictions are! Reblog with a comment to be added to my taglist!
Part 2
4K notes · View notes
bunnylovesani · 4 months
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Kiss Me Through The Phone
Summary: You call your jerk of a stepbrother to remind him to pick up some milk on the way home but the conversation takes a sinful turn.
Content warnings: Stepcest, dubcon, masturbation, fingering, squirting
WC: 2.9k
“What do you want?” Sam’s short-tempered voice rings out of your phone’s speakers as he picks up your call.
“Just calling to say mom wants you to pick up a carton of milk on the way home.” You exhale. Your mother had been married to his dad for several months now but talking to Sam still made you frustratingly nervous. 
“Fine. Is that all?” He snaps back. 
“Yeah. When are you going to be back by the way?” You innocently chirp, worried that he’d been gone for so long. 
“Why do you care?” He scoffs and you shrink down onto your bed. He had a special gift for making you feel invisibly small. 
“Jus’ wondering Sam.” You shrug. “You’re barely ever home. Gets lonely sometimes.” 
“Princess wants a playdate, is that it? I’ve got better things to do than rot away in that hole of a house.” The mean tone in his voice pinches at your heartstrings and you feel tears welling up in your eyes. You quickly wipe them away and regulate your breathing, not daring to let him hear your sniffles- you’d never hear the end of it. 
“Okay. I’ll stop bothering you then.” You whisper disappointedly, heart sinking even more when you’re met with silence. 
“I’m only down the road at a friend’s house. I’ll be back later tonight.” He sighs, as though revealing the simple information was a burden to him. 
“You will?” You almost begin to float at the thought of him spending the night for once. 
“Yes. You can bother me then.” He sneers. 
“Okay!” You have to cover your mouth with your hand before the “can’t wait!” slips out of you. You anticipate that he’ll hang up but the seconds on your screen continue ticking on. 
“What have you been doing today?” He asks with a faint curiosity and you’re taken aback by his unusual question. 
“Oh! Um, I went shopping earlier.” You reprimand yourself for the stupid response. No wonder he thought you were nothing but an airhead- why couldn’t you have said you were reading classic literature or listening to metal?
“My old man give you a new credit card?” He questions and you blush with embarrassment. Your new stepfather was endlessly generous and as much as you loved being spoiled, you were concerned with the impression it left on Sam. “It’s alright. He loves you like you’re his own. Angel of the family. Probably glad he’s finally got a kid that isn’t a total mess now.” He adds before you can interject.
“Don’t say that, Sam. You’re not a mess.” You remark earnestly. You weren’t about to admit it but you thought the absolute world of him. 
“Whatever. What’d you buy?” He brushes the subject off and you hear him exhale- he must be smoking again. 
“Oh, I-uh. Well, I…” You stutter, remembering exactly what it is you’d bought earlier. 
“Spit it out.” He retorts impatiently and you eye up the pink bag of lingerie sitting by the edge of your bed. “What? You buy something secret?”
“I mean, kinda. Not really. It’s stupid.” You shake your head in panic. “I bought some new bras and panties.” 
Once you blurt out the delicate information, there’s an uncomfortably long pause.
“Cute. Bet you’ll look real pretty in it.” He chuckles lightly as he exhales again and a hot blush creeps over your whole face. 
“Maybe. I haven’t tried it on yet.” You murmur, unsure how to process Sam complimenting you. 
“What are you waiting for?” The sly smirk plastered on his face trickles into his words and you can picture it, clear as day. 
“I-I don’t know” You stumble, putting the phone down and fishing your favourite selection out of the bag- a striped pink set complete with chiffon bows. Without a second thought, you strip down to nothing and slide on your new purchase before twirling to admire yourself in front of the mirror. 
“How’s it looking?” Sam’s voice rings out on speakerphone.
“It’s pretty. Very flattering.” You said sweetly. 
“Show me.” 
His bold words stopped you in your tracks and you broke you out into a flurry of goosebumps. 
“W-what?” You hesitated, wondering if you’d misunderstood something.
“You heard me. Show me.” He stated confidently. 
Reluctantly, you approached your buzzing phone and peered at the screen to see an incoming FaceTime call from Sam. Against your better judgment, you accepted the request and fought the grin that threatened to envelop your face once your screen filled with his handsome, moody face. 
“Hey there, princess.” He drawled smoothly, a joint hanging between his fingers. 
“Hi.” You cooed, shyness consuming you. The sight of the mischievous glint in his blue eyes paired with the messy, dark hair that trailed down his forehead had you struggling to put a sentence together. 
“Put the phone down on your table and give me a spin then.” He ordered more than asked. 
Without a second word, you gently placed the phone on your vanity table and propped it up by the mirror before standing back with the same countenance as a skittish deer.
“Wow. Where’s that body been hiding?” He sniggers and you resist the urge to cover your heated face with your hands. 
“Now let’s see the back.” He gestures for you to turn around and you follow his command, perching your ass in the air a little as you show him. 
“Oh fuck yeah.” He expresses with a low, breathy tone. “Sit down for me.” 
Somewhat confused, you situate yourself on the chair by your desk. 
“Now lean back. Just like that, sweetheart.” 
You follow his words without question, spurred on by the trust you had for him. 
“Now spread your legs.” He said casually, as if it were the most normal thing in the world before taking a final drag of his joint and putting it out. When he sees you’re frozen in shock, he simply raises an eyebrow and cocks his head, as if to say “what?”
Anxiety racks your body- as well as deep, burning desire and a desperate urge to please him so you part your legs slowly, resting your heels on either edge of the chair. 
“That’s it, baby. You’re so well behaved, aren’t you?” His snarky voice makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up but you’d do anything to hear him call you ‘baby’ again. “Why don’t you slide those off?” His intentions finally come into clear focus- all doubts fading away when you hear the faint clinking of his belt. Too far gone to turn back now.
You put your thighs together, feet swinging gracefully in the air as you gradually pull your panties off. You hear rustling on the other line as Sam’s eyes remain painstakingly fixated on you and the glistening wetness you’ve revealed to him. Dragging the pink fabric over your knees, you flick them off and spread your legs once again. 
“L-like this?” You mumble anxiously, feeling chillingly exposed. 
“Yeah, baby. Just like that.” He sighs as you hear the snap of his boxers. 
“What are you doing, Sam?” You ask apprehensively, a warmth coming over you at the sound of his endearing words. 
“You wanna see?” A darkness overcomes his eyes, already smudged with 2-day old eyeliner. 
“Mhm.” You nod and he lowers the camera a couple of inches- just enough for his happy trail and lower hips to come into view. 
“Are you sure?” He teases and you nod again without a second thought. 
“Alright.” 
Without further delay, his large cock springs up onto your screen- swollen veins snaking around his thick base and the tip a pretty blushed pink. You exhale a shaky breath at the sight- you’d never seen one before and you weren’t expecting that your stepbrother’s would be the first. His large hand grabs the shaft, stroking it with slow but firm pumps. 
“I wanna see you doing the same now, princess.” He rasps, small groans escaping his parted lips between sinful words. 
“Me?” You’re taken aback by his perverted request. 
“Who else has got her legs spread? Yes, you. Put those pretty fingers to good use and touch yourself. Can you do that for me, baby?” He asks sternly and you have to look away from the camera when you notice how hungrily he’s staring at you. 
“I don’t know, Sam…” Your mind clouds with doubt. “Isn’t this really fucked up?” 
“The only thing that’d be fucked up is you backing out now.” He rebuked with the same aggression in his voice you’re used to hearing. “If you don’t  do it now, I’ll do it myself when I get home.” 
The thought of Sam’s fingers prodding somewhere so intimate both turned you on and freaked you out beyond measure. The dangerous stare in his glazed-over eyes served as a warning and you knew he wasn’t bluffing. 
With bated breath, you snaked one hand between your legs and traced it down your puffy folds.
“Good girl. I knew you’d do the right thing.” He sighs contentedly and resumes stroking his cock, the tip now a deeper pink and glassy with precum. “Now squeeze your tits with your other hand.” 
You knew better than to argue back so you followed his orders, raising your free hand to knead your left breast. 
“Pinch your nipple.” The expression on his handsome face contained nothing but dark, burning lust. 
“Sammm…” You whined, consumed with embarrassment.
“Don’t make me come down there.” He scowled threateningly. 
Anxiety racked your body but you could feel the wetness pooling in your cunt as you lightly pulled at your nipple. 
“I wanna see you fucking yourself.” He announced ominously. “Come on, baby, use those fingers.” 
“But Sam, I-I don’t do that. I don’t like it.” You mutter- you’d never tried before. 
“Do it for me.” He insisted and you knew you couldn’t refuse.
Your middle finger outlined your opening- it was certainly wet enough to slide in easily, but you still felt scared. Wanting to complain and give up, you looked up at the phone still perched on your desk and saw him then- eyes intently fixed on you and stroking himself desperately, shirt lifted up just enough to reveal his toned abdomen. He looked a mess. And all for you? 
Scrunching up your face, you slowly dipped a finger inside, wincing at the unfamiliar feeling and reprimanding yourself for not being strong enough to say no. 
“Oh, you’re such a baby.” Sam shook his head. “And you’re not doing it right.” 
“I don’t know what you want!” You moan frustratedly, pulling your hand away in defeat. 
“I know. I’ll show you.” He affirms lowly. 
“What?” You reach out and grab your phone.
“Stay right there.” He orders before hanging up, leaving you staring at the blank screen of your phone in confusion and horror. He wasn’t going to come here, was he?
You were too obedient to do anything but stay in place like he’d instructed but you were still tormented with anxious anticipation. It was one thing to mess around on the phone but something entirely different to take it to the next level. You weren’t entirely sure you wanted to cross that line. 
You heard the heavy thud of footsteps traipsing up the stairs and your whole body froze. The door swung open and a smirking Sam entered the room with a cocky stride. 
“You haven’t moved.” He notes, closing the door behind him and approaching you like a predator closing in on its prey. 
“You told me not to.” You counter. 
“That’s right.” He mutters to himself as he lies back against your headboard. “Come here, sweetie.” He beckons you over and you timidly go over to him, your back pressed against his open chest. 
Sam rests his chin on your shoulder and inhales the scent of you, nuzzling up to the crook of your neck. 
“Lie back for me.” You rest your bare self against him completely, slotting in between his legs. “Just like that. Now I’m going to show you how it’s done.” 
“But- but you said if I did it myself then you wouldn’t.” You whined.
“I know doll but you didn’t do it right, did you?” He traced his hand down your slit and wasted no time before gathering the slick with two fingers and plunging them inside you. 
“Sam!” You mewl at the unexpected intrusion. 
“Shut up.” He curls his fingers and your eyes roll to the back of your head. You look down at the silver rings glimmering on his fingers, now sheathed inside you. 
“You’re so soft and squishy.” He laughs mockingly, plunging his slender fingers in and out roughly. “And squelchy too. You hear that?” He speeds up for a moment to emphasise the lewd sounds of your wet pussy, arousal dripping down his hand already. 
“You’re gonna let me play with you.” He fucks his fingers in and out of you with brutal precision. “Because that’s what big brothers do- and good little sisters listen.” 
“But Sammy, it’s wrong.” You moan and he clamps your mouth shut with a big open hand before you can voice any more protests.
“You make the mistake of thinking I care what you want.” He palms your breast and takes your nipple between his fingers, squeezing at it hard. “You’re my little toy. A thing to play with. You understand?” You nod as much as you’re able to considering the state of delirium you had fallen into. 
“Stop squirming and take it.” He slaps your breast harshly before sticking his thumb in your mouth; you suckle at it messily, drool dripping on your chin and down your cleavage. 
“Too-too much Sam.” You wail, thighs shaking and closing in around his veiny arm. 
“I don’t think so.” He yanks his fingers out so that he can force your legs open with both hands, pulling them apart as far as they could go before dipping his creamy fingers back in. 
“Do you know what squirting is, baby?” He asks you calmly, deriving a sick pleasure out of compelling you to speak when you were clearly falling apart. 
“Y-yes.” You choke out breathily. 
“How?” He raises an eyebrow and snakes a hand around your neck. “Has my little sis been a slut?”
“No, no, I promise.” You shake your head desperately. 
“How then? Been watching things you shouldn’t have?” He cocks his head around to face you and you shyly nod in response. “Ah, I thought so. That’s very naughty of you, sweetheart.” He chastises you, admiring how he’d turned you into a panting, dishevelled mess in no time at all. 
His fingertips brushed against an undiscovered spongy spot inside you and your toes curled at the blazing sensation. You entered a trance and soon after you heard a wet gushing that spilled out and drenched your thighs and sheets. 
“Such a good girl.” He kissed the side of your face sloppily. “Knew you could do it.” 
You peered down and saw that his broad, veined forearm was dripping- creamy wetness dribbling from his fingertips. 
“I-I did that?” You panted, confused. 
“Sure did, baby. All you.” He started rubbing circles into your clit and you threw your head back onto his shoulder. 
“Sam, what are you doing?” You whined, head spinning with the mind-numbingly good way he was playing with you. 
“I’m not done with my little toy.” He massages your swollen pussy, callous fingertips stroking against the delicate nub with dizzying speed. “Cum on my fingers, baby, cum all over them.” 
You came undone, whimpering and crying out so loud the walls vibrated. Sam chuckled at the sight, looking down at your fucked out expression with cocky pride. 
“We’re home!” Your mother’s voice rang out as the front door shut with a resounding slam and you scrambled to get dressed. Just as she climbed upstairs to reach your room, you’d gotten your dress back on- albeit backwards. 
“Oh, hey Sam.” She peered in, noticing him sitting on the chair by your desk and he waved at her with a thin smile. “Did you get the milk like I asked?” 
“Must’ve slipped my mind.” He shrugged and she rolled her eyes. 
“Everything slips your mind, sometimes I wonder if there even is a mind to speak of.” 
“Mom!” You screwed your face up at her, hating how she and Sam bickered. 
“What? He forgets everything.” She waves her hand in the air dismissively, about to head out the door before your dress caught her eye. “Is that a new way of wearing it that I don’t know about?” You look down as she points at the inside-out fabric. 
“Yeah, mom. Contrast stitching is all the rage.” You nod persuasively. 
“I’m getting old.” She sighs. “But it’s nice to see you two hanging out.” 
“Oh we’re a regular Bonnie and Clyde.” Sam smirks and you laugh nervously, hoping she wouldn’t read too much into the strange comparison. 
As soon as she’s gone, Sam shoots you a dark stare, lust infusing his eyes once again. 
“You’re lucky they got back home when they did. I would’ve ruined you.” He remarks casually and you shuffle in your seat uncomfortably, burning under his intense gaze. 
“You already did.” You gulp at his thinly veiled threat.
“Oh baby, you have no idea.” 
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shadowedvales · 6 months
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So… in the additional media of Stranger Things (specifically the comics I’m mentioning), it was initially Brenner’s idea/plan to kill off the other test subjects because they weren’t performing as well as Eleven was. It was his best solution because that way, all the resources, time, and money could instead be placed only to her. And I just…. sure Henry is a fine character and the massacre makes a lot of sense to me, but I think I am once again gonna change up my canon to actually fit this potential narrative instead.
I genuinely think the comic canon of the lab and Brenner is far more intriguing than the show. Everything with 9/9.5, Ricky, and Francine. Eleven being the only one who grew up completely in the lab. Those other kids were either volunteers, well into their teens, or had some semblance of a home life. Eleven was the only one practically moulded from the womb. And they all had such a range of interesting powers. I firmly stand with the idea that Jane is the only one who can contact The Void.
Brenner’s entire point of view on the lab subjects changed the second he found out Terry was pregnant. He discovered he could steal this baby and make her his own. There would be no convincing the child because it’s all she would have ever known. Because of this, I would not put it past a man like Brenner to kill the other subjects for the sake of the “greater good” aka Eleven. Eleven’s gifts just continue thriving beyond his wildest expectations. Brenner would never dare assume that having moulded her from the womb, she would still be able to grow into her own person, her own mind, and one day be able to see him for exactly who he was.
Back before season four aired, it was obvious there were other test subjects because Jane was 011. So there were at least ten kids before her. But I always liked the idea/assumed that she was the last experiment because she was the most successful. That they didn’t need anyone after her because she was fulfilling everything they set out for her to do. With flying colours.
I just think the whole Rainbow Room idea, pitting the kids against each other thing… been there, done that. Boring and predictable. I think at this point my portrayal of her time in Hawkins Lab really stems from the complete isolation she endured. Where having the Rainbow Room, although Eleven was obviously the most isolated out of the kids, brings that sense of community and sister/brotherhood. Albeit extremely warped and toxic. Knowing that she wasn’t alone in that experience just. Doesn’t sit well with me. I think it’s important to note that she was alone, physically and mentally. Which is why Kali is also so important to her growth. I thought a lot of the flashbacks of her time in the lab during season four was really boring, repetitive, and just very predictable. Although Peter becoming Vecna was a surprise to me, and was a nice little twist, the idea of her having an ally on the inside was really interesting.
Maybe they did get as far as they do in canon, Peter Ballad was telling the truth about everything, about some of the workers there being prisoners like him, and he really wanted to get her out and to safety. But before they can escape through the pipes, they’re caught. Peter is shot on the spot, and Eleven is put into the isolation room for a few days as punishment. In this timeline, Henry would be Vecna, but Henry would not be Peter Ballad.
When Eleven turned seven, and was already showing extreme promise, where the other children were average at best, Brenner had the eight children killed. Kali had already escaped. This was the main cause for Peter to gain Eleven’s trust and try to get her out. Because if Brenner could murder his “children” in cold blood, there’s no way Eleven was safe even in spite of her power.
When Eleven is allowed out of the isolation room, her testing becomes more rigorous in attempt to distance and make her forget about what she attempted to do with Peter. Brenner begins gaslighting her, saying that there was never a Peter, that she must have been dreaming. Eleven does ask “papa” about “mama”, given Peter told her of the day Terry broke in the lab, but Brenner is convincing enough to make Eleven believe it was all in her head. Say she is around eight years old, meaning the same timeline of season fours canon flashbacks.
I still do wanna keep the Henry Creel canon, and keep him as 001. Brenner didn’t have him killed alongside the other test subjects, because who knows, one day he could become an even better asset than 011. Brenner definitely wants to be able to control Henry, but keeps the chip in him because, for the moment, doesn’t know how. Killing him would be too big of a loss.
When Eleven is ten years old, Henry’s concealed powers break free and he manages to get the chip out himself, and unleashes hell onto Hawkins Lab. He almost kills Brenner by snapping his bones, but Eleven manages to stop him. Her extreme abilities are unleashed, and she sends Henry to the Upside Down. She does fall into a coma due to the extremity of the situation, but she does not forget what happened. Brenner believes she’s the perfect weapon as she stepped in to save him without a second thought, was able to defeat Henry, and opened a door to something he never thought possible. Eleven is rewarded for her efforts. Although she remembers the entire battle / confrontation, her memories regarding the portal are very hazy.
Brenner decides not to focus on the portal straight away, instead gets her training harder and harder to see what else she can accomplish. Also loved the idea of Brenner sending her into The Void to “look for him” so that will definitely be kept.
By the time she escapes and season one begins, her knowledge of the Upside Down is basically what we see in canon. Because she passed out the moment after she sent Henry away, she was once again gaslighted into believing she merely threw him through the glass and killed him. For two years she believed this, until making contact with the Demogorgan, and those memories return completely.
Due to her saving Brenner’s life, (it was pure instinct. She happened to be there. Saw her “papa” hurt and knew she had to make him better.) Brenner constantly thanks her. But in a very condescending way. Tells her: “you saved me so I can continue saving you.” Aka, harness your abilities and see what else I can achieve from you. Despite the fact that she saved his life, these words and phrases make her feel indebted to him. That she owes him something further.
I don't realistically see her thriving with her speech improvement until she's well into her twenties at least. Her slowed development, sensory and social deprivation causes a serious delay in language. Surrounded by other children she would have overheard conversations, some would have spoken to her. Her conveniently forgetting her upbringing pre the battle with Henry just isn't good enough for me anymore. It makes more sense for her to have been raised alone.
It also helps indicate why she gravitated towards the boys when they found her in the woods. They would have been the first people her age she ever remembered seeing. As far as she knew, during the lab there was no one like her. Everyone was much older, they were adults-- although she stayed with Benny, I'm not sure if she would have stuck around very long. Where she followed the boys home without thought.
Also it's important to note that after time, Jane does understand that Peter Ballad was a real person, and was truly the first person (aside from Terry) who wanted the best for her. When she remembers him, knows that Brenner was lying, she deals with immense guilt regarding his death. He was shot right in front of her eyes, because he was trying to help her. This is another catalyst as to why after season two, Jane never refers to Brenner as papa. She does not give him that sort of credit.
#study.#although henry offering eleven a place at his side wouldn’t be canon#he would definitely still look at her as an enemy for basically stopping his revenge.#AND the whole speech between he and jane never sat right with me.#saying brenner made him what he was / that it wasnt his fault etc. Like. No? henry was a sociopath. he killed his family.#brenner didn’t do anything to make him who he is. so jane always saw him for exactly what he was#and there’s absolutely no sympathy there.#and then regarding my season four canon as her regaining her powers by remembering the massacre/the fight. i am changing that to her#regaining her powers by simply confronting her past. understanding what she went through. finding ways to cope with it physically and#mentally. getting coping mechanisms from her therapist. seeking help. not needing to know WHY this happened to her (because there is not.#and will never be a reason.) but finding ways to accept it and move on. how to move on from eleven and become janessa ives.#also just because in this case henry doesn’t massacre a bunch of kids? It doesn’t make him any less evil. in this instance i am following#the idea that some of the workers were prisoners there in hawkins lab. and henry killed a bunch of the workers. so would definitely have#killed some innocent people.#just because i am separating peter from henry. does NOT mean i am excusing anything from henry/vecna.#in this case they are two completely different people. although i highkey wanna use jcb as peter because he just did the role SO WELL and#was SO BELIEVABLE i’m not sure about it yet. because i don’t want anyone to get the impression that i’m making excuses for henry.#BUT YES.#this be the new canon. <3#idc brenner is such a good fuckin villain he’s disgusting but so intriguing.
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generalsmemories · 8 months
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To raise a child
✧ jing yuan x gn!reader ft. yanqing (platonic)
✧ based on the asks: 3 requests asking for a family fic with jing yuan and yanqing
✧ synopsis: raising a child is always hard, even when you're a long life species with a lot of experiences.
✧ contents: established relationship, fluff, found family trope (a.k.a my one weakness with every media), yanqing & reader have a slight rocky start, mentions of other characters, sentences in italics are readers thoughts.
✧ a/n: i'm not gonna chuck angst into a found family trope unless i feel particulary miserable, they just gonna have a good ole time being parents to a yanqing from when he was a wee babie to the lieutenant he is today - also a lot of this is my own interpretation SINCE I DON'T GET A CRUMB ON HOW THE HELL THIS MAN FOUND MY BABY. not beta-ed like usual i'm sorry.
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The first time you were told about Yanqing's existence was when you were not onboard Luofu, which honestly made the first meeting between the two of you a lot worse.
"... Pardon, he found what now while I'm away?" you stare bewildreded at the messenger before you while clutching the letter Jing Yuan had written to you - you can practically hear his easy-going voice resound in your head through the words before you.
"What do you mean he suddenly picked up a whole child?!"
Safe to say that the Luofu were turned upside down by the time you came back to the ship. Rumours spread amongst the citizens, gossip between the storytellers and the newsboard retelling the latest news and constantly updating on any new "information" they had gotten.
To say you got stopped at every corner before you even stepped foot back in land was an understatement. You practically had a crowd waiting for you - it was only by the assistance of Yukong that you had managed to worm yourself out of the crowd and hightail home.
Maybe it's because Jing Yuan knew you would come home first, or maybe it's because he was aware that you had a lot of questions for him. Which was why you had gotten a text prior to landing with the single message of:
"Decided to take the day off today <3"
Safe to say he was left on read.
"Jing Yuan, what has gotten into you-" are the first words that leaves your mouth when you slam your entrance doors open, only for your eyes to widen when Jing Yuan is already waiting for you at the foyer. Hands behind his back and sporting his signature smile, but your gaze isn't at your lover before you.
Rather it was on the smaller child that was hiding behind his legs, he was by no means scared of your sudden appearance you noticed. Rather, he was sizing you up and down with a fierce gaze, almost like a lion cub who had just found its first prey.
The glare made your previous anger and confusion fade into a more surprised shock, rendering you speechless on how to proceed further. Jing Yuan steps in after seeing your anger dissipate upon seeing the fierce boy, raising a hand to ruffle Yanqing's hair before he directs his gaze back to you who is still staring at Yanqing in mild surprise.
"He's a feisty one isn't he?" is what he utters softly, and it's the slight exhaustion in his voice that causes you to let your guard down and put aside your confusion and need for answers aside.
Right now there's a young child before you, a child that you don't know the lineage of - but a child that Jing Yuan himself had picked up and stood his ground against public opinion for.
And Jing Yuan didn't do things without reason.
But you're well aware that he's also the kind to not tell you much as to why he had done a few decisions. As futile as you know it is, you would still try to get something out of him later. But for now, you would have to try to give a better impression of yourself to this kid who you're pretty sure sees you as anything, but a person with good intentions.
... What do you say to a child that is currently holding animosity towards you?
Seeing your distraught face makes Jing Yuan let out a chuckle, glancing down at Yanqing who is still staring fiercly at you, "They're not someone you should be on guard with. That's my spouse, they're just surprised by your sudden arrival is all, Yanqing."
So his name is Yanqing.
The reassurance from Jing Yuan makes the young boy relax a bit, but you can still tell he's very much on guard against you, "... I'm Yanqing," he mutters quietly.
The two of you seem to have a long way to go from the first encounter.
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"... What were you thinking?" you question the moment Jing Yuan slides the door to your bedroom shut, you had spent the majority of the afternoon cleaning up a spare room for Yanqing to sleep in after the meeting while the two had headed out to prepare the paperwork for Yanqing to be offcially be recgonized as a Cloud Knight.
"... I saw potential?" he tries, but with one glance at your direction and being faced with your quirked eyebrow makes him let out a sigh instead, reaching a hand behind his head to pull the red ribbon tying his hair back.
He doesn't say anything as he makes his way over to you. Neither does he utter a word when he lets his entire weight fall on top of your own, the noise of surprise you let out making him chuckle, rubbing his face onto neck, "W-Wait, hold on. There's a literal child in this house now, what are you-"
"Dear, what are you thinking?" Jing Yuan snorts before you finish your sentence, wrapping his arms around your waist before flipping himself over so that you're laying on top of him, "Our schedule clashed together too much that it's been 2 years since I last saw you? And when I meet you again you looked like you were going to pull my head off of my own body, this is quite frankly the first instance where I get you all to myself," he explains, raising an eyebrow at your gradually reddening face, "Whatever you were imagining is beyond me, darling."
"... Shut up and tell me the truth already," you murmur before burying your face in his chest, lifting a closed fist to lightly hit his arm when you feel his chest rumble with his constrained laughter.
"I didn't lie when I said I saw potential. Despite his young age, Yanqing is quite gifted with the sword," he starts after a brief silence, fingers drumming along the spine of your back, "But it would be more accurate to say I'm preparing the future generation?" he muses out loud, sounding unsure himself which makes let out a chuckle, "Wow, I'm sure lady Fu Xuan would be delighted by the news of your possible retirement."
"I'm afraid I'll have to disappoint our Master Diviner for another few decades unfortunately. She's still far too young to take up the mantle of the general."
You hum, raising your head up from his chest to make eye contact, Jing Yuan directing his gaze from staring up at the ceiling to instead stare at you as well, "Next time you're thinking of picking up a kid, give me a heads up? Or else you're going to end up on the news again like today with the headlines of you committing infidelity."
He laughs, hoisting you further up his body to peck your lips, "Please, I won't be picking up another child anytime soon. But maybe I need to show the citizens that I only have eyes for one person if they were swayed this easily by the apperance of one child."
"... Please don't say something that embarassing in front of Yanqing."
"See, you're already being a great parental figure."
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Great parental figure my ass.
Is what's currently running through your mind as you're once again, left alone with Jing Yuan's prodigal apprentince. it's been a few months after Yanqing's first arrival, and the relationship between the two of you seem to still be threading on thin ice.
Your relationship with the young prodigy hasn't gotten worse, but it has in no way improved either. Whenever Jing Yuan is not present amongst the three of you, Yanqing becomes extra reserved and takes extra caution to not bother you - which makes any attempt to even talk to him 10 times harder than it has to be.
Yanqing is out in the garden, brushing the fallen leaves into a neat pile while you're sitting by the living room table doing paperwork. And yet, ever since Jing Yuan had stepped out for some urgent business, the two of you haven't even spoken a single word to each other.
Yanqing was at an age where you didn't need to give him constant attention, but with the way you two had started on the wrong foot it felt a lot harder trying to get closer to him - mostly because the boy himself tries to not be a burden on you, which in a way has become a burden.
Not to mention, Jing Yuan spends the most time with him training him personally - so the time you spend with Yanqing is close to nothing compared to your lover.
The odds are truly against you at the moment.
At this point, the new paper scroll that you had rolled out were becoming useless with how long you had pressed the ink filled brush on it's surface, the gradual circle of ink stained paper growing with each passing minute.
Topics you can talk about.. Jing Yuan mentioned he was great with a sword, but it's been ages since I've held a sword myself till the point he's probably better than me...
Were you always this awkward with children?
Glancing at the clock, you notice it's almost time for your meetup with master Gongshu over at the Artisanship Commission. So with a reluctant sigh, you glance down at the paper scroll before you - that has long been ruined before you put the brush away and roll the scroll back up.
"... Yanqing I'm about to head to out to the Artisanship Commission, can you..." your voice dies down when you see the boy whip his head around the moment you mention the Commission. And although he tries to hide it, you would be a fool to not notice the sparkle in his eyes at the mention of where you are going.
"... Do you want to join?" you end up asking instead.
You've never seen his facial expression change so much in just a few seconds. First you could tell he wanted to agree, but then you're pretty sure he managed to figure out why you were going and didn't want to be a burden, but still wanted to go. You soon saw hope come back to his eyes, presumably remembering that you personally asked, but you saw the same hope dwindle down when he probably thought that you asked just to include him.
The sight made you laugh, "... A child is a child after all, no matter where they are," you whisper quietly to yourself, "You won't be a bother, Yanqing. And wouldn't it be better for you to look around the Luofu a bit? I'm pretty sure Jing Yuan has only brought you to the Cloud Knights training area after all, we can even stop by Cloudbreath Sleeves to take your measurements so that you can get some tailor-made clothes and not Jing Yuan's old clothes."
That seemed to be the only reassurance he needed.
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You're pretty sure Yanqing hasn't noticed that your meeting with master Gongshu ended 15 minutes ago. Neither has he seemed to realize that the two of you have spent the next 15 minutes just observing his every reaction to the swords on display.
His eyes seemed particulary glued to an iridescent blue sword with a black handle, master Gongzhu giving a low whistle beside you, "He's got a good eye."
You roll your eyes, "Send me the invoice later," you reply back before stepping towards the awestruck boy, "Why not bring it home with us?" you ask, Yanqing jumping slightly in surprise, his head turning around with widened eyes, "I can't possibly ask that of you, I can just save up-"
"You're staring at it like it's your first love, Yanqing," you chuckle, reaching out to grab the handle, twirling it around before reaching for the scabbard right underneath where it was displayed - sliding the sword inside.
"Consider it a gift, for future endeavours."
He blinks, taking the scabbard from your hands, staring at the intricate design weaved into the metal - and you notice the faint tears forming at the corners of his eyes before the boy leaps into your arms to give you a hug, "I swear I'll treasure it, thank you!"
Perhaps too shocked by the sudden hug, you fail to realize that master Gongshu had quickly snapped a picture of the scene and sending it to a certain general.
Qingzu had to stop the very same general from storming away from the Divine of Foresight to head to the Artisanship Commission the very next minute.
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"... Well the two of you seem to have gotten a lot closer these past few months," Jing Yuan comments the moment he noticed the position you were currently in. You merely glared halfheartedly at him, but Jing Yuan made no effort to help you - instead walking over to bend down to peck your forehead, careful to not wake the child asleep on top of you.
"I told him to head home before me since I still had affairs to tend to, didn't think he would immediately collapse on top of you and doze off," Jing Yuan remarks with a laugh.
You had one hand supporting Yanqing weight on top of you so that he doesn't topple over, so you decide to use your other hand to reach over and flick Jing Yuan on the forhead - a flick he moved away from with a smirk, "He just dozed off mid-talk too. He was talking about your recent spar match before he just fell asleep," you say, "And to think he vehemently denied not needing a nap after a training session because he's not a child."
Jing Yuan lets out another laugh at that, effortlessly wrangling Yanqing away from your hold and hoisting him up in his arms without manaing to wake him up, "Well if you treat him like an adult, he'll show the temperament of a child as well."
"You should try to get some rest as well, dear. We can just order something from Aurum Alley later," Jing Yuan suggests, to which you merely nod to, standing up to stretch your limbs, "Join me then, I'm sure our dozing general is quite tired too."
"My, what an alluring offer. Can I assume that there's something more-"
"Don't push your luck."
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here's the 3 requests that wanted a family fic - i actually struggled a bit with how to do this, but alas - i just know future me will conjure something up again so have this as a teaser HAHA
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f0point5 · 3 months
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Lando Norris x reader Masterlist
Only rumours ‘bout my hips and thighs - News of Y/N and Lando’s budding “relationship” hits F1 news
It’s blue, the feeling I’ve got - Rumours about Lando and Y/N heat up. Meanwhile, Y/N is skeptical about Lando’s friendly overtures
You will take the long way - Y/N discusses her secret, and Lando lets out his frustrations with Max
At least I’m trying - Y/N catches up on the new season of Drive to Survive, while Lando makes another effort to befriend her
Gain the weight of you - Y/N ties up loose ends as the stage is set for the relationship to go public
You told your family for a reason - Y/N arrives in Bahrain, and the deception deepens
The jury’s out - Y/N meets more people in Lando’s life with mixed reception, and attends her first race
(They) find something to wrap (their) noose around - Lando is subject to some controversy, which means Y/N has to step in, whole fighting to stay in her comfort zone
You don’t know how nice that is…but I do - Y/N attends the race where she makes an immediate connection with Oscar, and Lando makes an ill-advised move to impress her
You don’t feel pretty, you just feel used - Y/N finds herself in high demand, much to her dismay, as she heads to Australia for the next race
I’m feeling like I don’t know you - Lando’s feelings about how Y/N is spending her time in Australia bubble over
New to town with a made up name - Y/N does a Q&A
Every time you shine, I’ll shine for you - Lando secures an amazing result at the Australian Grand Prix, while neitzens discuss his new relationship.
That old familiar body ache - Y/N is forced to get back to work, which includes seeing Lando
The rust that grew between telephones - Y/N’s campaign debuts while she and Lando are in Japan. Lando searches for answers for what happened in Monaco
It’s hard to be at a party when I feel like an open wound - Y/N skips the Japanese Grand Prix and puts her job in jeopardy
Did you see the photos? No, I didn’t but thanks though - Y/N is forced to defend Lando from gossip, while her position as his girlfriend remains precarious
They say what doesn’t kill you makes you aware - Max F weighs in on Lando’s troubles, while Lando finds he and Y/N have a common interest
Lights, camera, bitch smile - Y/N puts on an impressive show at the Grand Prix. Lando’s jealousy gets the better of him, leading to a frank conversation
Don’t you worry your pretty little mind - Y/N reaches out to Lando when he is the subject of online trolling to offer support
You can’t talk to me when I’m like this - Lando wins the Miami Grand Prix, but a misstep means Y/N is not part of the celebration
I never grew up, it’s getting so old - Oscar steps in to help when Y/N and Lando aren’t speaking
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latetaektalk · 8 months
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love to hate you | jjk [vii]
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“when obnoxiously rich and spoiled frat boy jeon jungkook comes up to you one day and asks you to fake date him for money, you definitely should have said no. because before you knew it, you were going on insta dates with him and having lunch with his equally obnoxiously rich and spoiled friends.”
— genre: sexual themes, angst, fluff, fratboy! AU, fake dating! AU, college! AU, rich kid! AU, enemies to lovers! AU
— pairing: jungkook x female reader
— word count: 17.966
— warnings: swearing/cursing, alcohol consumption, jealousy, no communication skills whatsoever
— playlist: to be added
— a/n: after almost two years of no update its done. it would be a lie to say that i was always one hundred percent sure this was gonna see the light of day but its finally here, and im so so so happy to just put it out there and give it to you guys. @koocycle has listened to me bitch abt this one so much so thanks to her, also for kinda inspiring me to get back into tumblr.com and writing !! enjoy!! and once again, this is inspired by To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before by Jenny Han!
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“You’re really showing your wealth, you know?” you said as Jungkook slid into the driver’s seat, shutting out the cold air. He raised a brow, handing you the bag for you to hold onto, shivering slightly from the cold, his neck exposed to the harsh wind.
“How so?”
The engine sputtered to life as he slotted in the keys, his phone mounted to the dashboard, showing him the way. You pulled out the one-hundred-dollar expensive wine bottle from the bag, scrutinising it. Some of the glitter from the red ribbon the salesman had wrapped around it in an effort to be more festive and fitting today’s occasion peeled off. 
“This is too much.”
“Yeah, I know, the bow’s tacky but I couldn’t stop Kangjoon from-”
“No, I mean the hundred bucks you dropped on it. It shows your wealth,” you repeated, scrunching your nose. “Also, didn’t know you were on a first name basis with the salesman.”
You let the bottle slip back into its bag, scared Jungkook was going to make a sharp stop and cause you to drop and waste the bottle. God knows you didn’t have one hundred bucks casually lying around like him—even though you were sure Jungkook wouldn’t make you replace it and would definitely just buy it again himself.
“What? Don’t tell me you didn’t like Kangjoon? He’s a great man, very competent.” And just as you were about to tell him that Kangjoon scammed him, Jungkook continued, “Also isn’t that the whole reason why you’re dating me? My wealth?” 
He said it with a grin, turning to you as he let a family of four pass, receiving a thankful hand raise from both of the parents as they ushered their young children across the street. And even though he meant it purely as a joke, his smile and tone indicating as much, his words made you scrunch your face like you’d been stung by a bee. 
“It’s so unnecessary. We wouldn’t know the difference between this and supermarket wine, and Chae literally said not to bring anything. She’s gonna scold you, you know?”
If it had gone your way, you’d have gotten the second cheapest bottle of semi-fancy alcohol they had and called it a day but Jungkook swiped his card before you could intervene, ever so easily charmed. Well, actually if it had gone your way at all, you wouldn’t have brought anything to begin with. Chaeyoung hated it if her guests brought anything anyway.
“Gotta impress your friends, don’t I? Can’t have them not like me,” he argued, and you rolled your eyes.
“First of all, no, you don’t-”
“You don’t want your friends to like your boyfriend?” Jungkook gasped, staring at you with his mouth agape and eyes wide as you came to a stop in front of a red light. You shook your head.
“No, can I speak?” you sighed, frowning as Jungkook laughed, clearly getting his kick out of annoying you. “My friends already like you, and you know that. We’re driving to Ji’s and Chae’s place now for a Christmas party. One that you were explicitly invited to. So I don’t believe you for a second when you say that you got this wine to impress them. Also, Chae said not to bring anything. You just like spending money.”
Jungkook pursed his lips, trying and failing to hide a grin. “Do I now?”
“Am I not exhibit A?”
He gave you a look as if to say touché.
“Okay, maybe you’re right,” he admitted. “But just so you know, I gladly spent my money on that wine if it means I’ll impress your friends and make them like me more. And I’m even more than happy to spend it on you, cabbage.”
He looked at you by the end of his words, flashing you a grin. A grin that made him look so pretty and adorable, that would have made your knees buckle if you hadn’t been sitting, that wrapped your heart into his grip even tighter. A grin that made you wonder if a parachute would be enough to stop your fall for him, or if you were simply doomed for this fate, for the bone crushing landing.
You turned your head to the window, glad to see you had made it to Jisoo’s and Chaeyoung’s place.
“I think you’re just happy to have an excuse to spend your money,” you mumble, pretending to busy yourself with the straps of the bag.
“Sure—” There was a shrug, and you should have prepared yourself for the worst, should know better by now that Jungkook couldn’t just agree with you and leave you in peace. “—or you’re just the love of my life, cabbage, and what’s mine is yours.”
The words remained casual on Jungkook’s tongue, easy as ever. And they remained difficult and frown-inducing for you. 
“You’re-!”
A laugh bubbled up from Jungkook’s upon your silence, and though you were trying your deepest and most desperate to resist, your heart skipped a beat. It was fatal, cardiologists would say. How deeply you’d fallen, it was fatal. Your heart couldn’t be saved.
And as if he hadn’t said the most impossible thing ever, Jungkook pulled into the parking lot and turned off the engine, a grin plastered on his lips.
“Alright, let’s-”
You yanked the door open, stepping (of course) in a puddle. With a groan and wince, you slammed the door shut. Your breath came out white and cloudy, December coming into its full swing. The weather had been harsher than ever—wind dragging on your skin until it was painful and tense, air cold enough to dry out your throat and mouth, every window coloured a milky white, and clouds hanging far and wide in the sky for every hour of the day. The urge to crawl back into the oh so warm car was strong. The urge to run away from Jungkook however was just that much stronger. 
The bottle bumped your hip bone as you rushed towards Jisoo’s and Chaeyoung’s apartment building. You didn’t turn around as Jungkook called after you to wait with a laugh, fumbling to unhook his phone from the dashboard. 
You reached the glass front door rather quickly, a handprint smudged across it that hadn’t been there last time. You cringed, but couldn’t think about it too much, worrying a lot more about the diminishing distance between Jungkook and you as you waited for one of your friends to open the stupid door for you. You knew for a fact they were already there, spotting Hoseok’s car parked on the side of the street. If he was there, Jimin was too, always catching a ride with him.
“Do you really think you can outrun me?” Jungkook called out, just a dozen steps behind you. 
You pulled on the front door as if it made a difference, pressing the bell repeatedly. He slowed his walk, burying his hands into his pockets. All so very smug. Your features twisted into a frown. 
“You’re so slow. You always run from me as if I won’t catch up with you in two-”
For once fate seemed to be on your side, the buzzer cutting through the air. The door almost hit you in the face when you yanked it open. You slammed it back shut again, just right in front of Jungkook’s nose. He pulled on the handle. The lock had clicked in. You watched his features twist as he realised he was too slow. His lips pressed together, curling inwards as he watched the biggest and proudest grin spread on yours.
“What were you saying? About me being too slow?” you said. A smile tucked on the corners of his mouth as he shook his head at you.
“Open up.”
He knocked on the glass, right in front of your nose.
“What? I can’t hear you.”
You put your hand to your ear, tilting your head.
“Just open up.”
“You gotta speak louder. I really can’t hear you with this door between-”
“Cabbage, you better open the door for me now, or I’m gonna make you regret it,” Jungkook said, narrowing his eyes, tongue poking in his cheek. And even though you were certain it was an empty threat—how was he going to make you regret it?—, you contemplated for just a second if maybe you should listen and open the door. 
“I’m gonna count to three.”
You scoffed. Were you a kid? And even more so, what was Jungkook going to do to you? Were you going to cave because of an empty threat? 
“Please do,” you smiled, eliciting one from Jungkook himself.
“Three.”
He raised a brow.
“Two.”
You folded your arms in front of your chest.
“One.”
A moment passed. 
Nothing happened.
“Alright, fine,” Jungkook said before dramatically ringing the bell. And even though you rolled your eyes, you did inch back. He was going to chase you, that one was for sure. 
The moment the buzzer rang, you took off. Jungkook let out a laugh.
“Now, you run?” he taunted, pulling the door open, his steps echoing through the hallway. You took two stairs at a time, yelping when you realised that Jungkook was hot on your tail. Maybe you should have run earlier. Or maybe you should have opened the door for him. But who were you, letting a guy threaten you? No less Jungkook of all people, that idiot.
You made it up the flight of stairs faster than you ever had, your lungs lit on fire. The front door already stood ajar for you. You could distantly hear Chaeyoung call out for Jisoo- A hand wrapped around your waist and pulled you back. Jungkook stood right in front of you, chest bumping into you, the biggest grin on his lips.
Shit.
“Gotcha.”
Your face soured.
“Oh, h-how are you?” you coughed with a smile, and he chuckled, never taking his eyes off of you even as he grabbed the bag from your hands and placed it down. You had completely forgotten about it. “Don’t look at me like this. T-that’s not fun.”
“Neither was having the door slammed in my face.” 
You backed into the wall. Turns out being tough was a lot more difficult when there wasn’t a door to shield you and Jungkook was actually in front of you, just centimetres from your face and staring at you like you were his favourite thing in this entire world. His hand sneaked around your waist, slipping underneath your sweater, fingers grazing the small of your back. His touch was light and delicate, teasing in all the right ways. It was cold too, making you arch and almost wince. And it was all too much—a tingle spreading across your back, rushing straight to your heart.
“Any last words before I make you regret it?” Jungkook hummed, and you should snort and laugh because he should sound ridiculous. But somehow, his words made you tense, the mere thought making your head spin in rounds and rounds. You bit on your tongue, silencing any sound that might just want to crawl up your throat.
You shouldn’t let Jungkook be this close to you. You needed distance for your sanity. But you couldn’t bring it over your heart to push him away. You didn’t have it in you. Not when there was very much a part of you that wanted to find out what Jungkook exactly meant.
He drank you up with his eyes, gaze dark and full of something hazy. Full of something you couldn’t pinpoint. But you loved it, you did. Maybe a little too much even. You loved the way it made your heart thump and rumble in your chest, made you forget that this was too much and far and dangerous, that Jungkook and you should keep your distance because in just a few weeks all of this would be over and you’d go your merry ways. But right now, with your back against the wall and Jungkook caging you in, thrill and excitement rushing through every single one of your cells, you couldn’t stop. You didn’t think you ever could.
“Got nothing to say now, cabbage?”
And when you still wouldn’t respond, he smiled. His face inched closer to yours, his nose brushing yours. Your fingers itched to hold onto something, onto him, curling and uncurling in the air. Because you shouldn’t, you really shouldn’t. But you did, hands gripping his sweater as if you were lost in the sea and he was all you had to cling to. 
You closed your eyes, anticipating and waiting for Jungkook to kiss you, your breath stuck in your chest. Any time now. It was going to happen-
“Oh my God, please don’t do this in my hallway.”
You whipped your head around, your heart dropping to the floor. Jisoo stood in the doorway, face twisted in utter disgust.
“Please, anywhere but my fucking hallway. That's all I’m gonna be able to think about. Seeing the two of you eating each other’s faces.”
There was even clearer disgust in her voice.
Oh God.
“Hello, Ji,” Jungkook smiled, and you expected him to back away from you, but he gave you no distance. He wasn’t even the slightest embarrassed, if anything you sensed the slightest annoyance swinging with his words.
“Please step away from her, Kook,” Jisoo asked, gesturing for him to move backwards. But he wasn’t all too eager to follow, staying cemented right in front of you, hands still around your waist. He paused to think.
“I’ve got a really expensive bottle of wine.” He pointed to the bag. “I’ll give it to you in exchange for five more minutes.”
“Oh, you brought something? Chae’s gonna kill you,” Jisoo laughed before changing her tune, tilting her head to the side. “But how expensive are we talking?”
“Like one hundred bucks.”
You stared holes into Jungkook, mouth agape. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Were you not right here too? Did you become air? It was like you were cattle being sold off. 
“Oh,” Jisoo gasped before shrugging. “Okay, deal-”
“Yeah, no way,” you laughed before doing what you should have done earlier—you pushed Jungkook away, making him tumble backwards a little. You stepped around him. 
“But, Y/N, it’s one hundred-”
“Ji!” you gasped, making her laugh and reach out for you. She wrapped her arms around your neck, giggling as she did. 
“I’m kidding. I’m kidding. I would never,” she told you, and you raised a brow at her. “Right, Kook?”
“Yeah, we were just kidding.”
“I don’t- hey! I can see you two exchanging looks!” you gasped, neither of the two even trying to be subtle. “Do you think I’m blind?”
“Ha, funny, I think-” Jisoo cleared her throat. “—I think Chae is calling for me? Oh my God, do you hear that? Yes, I’m on my way, Chae!”
And as if she hadn’t just stabbed you in the back, she slipped inside. But not without grabbing the bag and thanking Jungkook for it. You rolled your eyes, turning to head inside when he cleared his throat.
Jungkook was staring at you with his brows raised, clearly expecting… something. 
“What?” you barked. He gave you a smile before stretching out his hand. You groaned. “Seriously? We have to get inside-”
But he waved his hand around, not budging. Rolling your eyes and with a long exhale, you took his hand into yours. 
“You’re a child-”
Jungkook pulled you towards him, shutting you up with a kiss. One hand cupped your cheek and the other rested on the small of your back, pushing you into him. The kiss was tender and soft, gentle and light. And still, it was enough to have your heart thumping louder and harder in your chest than ever before. You asked yourself if Jungkook could feel it at all. That heart of yours that was oh so tight in his grip. That heart of yours that was bleeding in your chest. That heart of yours already ached at the thought of this all ending in just a few weeks. 
It was a lovely kiss, a devastatingly lovely kiss.
And when Jungkook pulled away, his eyes so full and beautiful, you felt gutted and empty. Because this meant nothing to him. This meant nothing at all. You looked away. Jungkook laughed, pulling you flush to his side, all too unaware.
“Let’s go?”
You nodded slightly. 
Jimin was first to greet you, leaping up from the couch and pulling you into a hug. “You made it!”
“Took you long enough,” Taehyung mumbled, sipping on his beer, earning himself a look from Namjoon that he simply ignored. “We could hear you two yelling around in the hallway.”
“Merry Christmas to you too, Tae,” Jungkook laughed, and the older one frowned at him. 
“It’s December 10th.”
“In other words, it’s almost-”
“No, it’s not-”
Hoseok greeted you with a hug, ignoring Taehyung’s and Jungkook’s bickering because otherwise he would never get to say hello to you. “Looking good.”
“Thanks.” You stared at his sweater. “That’s one really ugly Christmas sweater.”
He laughed, thanking you. Seokjin and Namjoon were next to give you a quick hug, followed by Jennie and Yoongi, exchanging a few words with each of them. Taehyung and you stared at each other for a few seconds, neither of you saying anything. And though he tried to hide it, a smile formed on his lips. A smile you could only return. You blamed it on the holidays. They made you especially sappy and sentimental.
You were first to reach out. Taehyung reciprocated the hug. It was a little awkward and short and one-armed. It was more than anyone could ask of you. Jungkook nodded in both amazement and approval when you caught his eyes for a split second, and you just scrunched your nose at him.
“So how-”
You tuned out Seokjin, taking a minute to admire the decoration around you instead. Chaeyoung (because Jisoo wasn’t particularly all too fond of Christmas, but did put up with all of it because Chaeyoung very much was) always outdid herself every holiday season: red little fuzzy stockings hanging off shelves and cupboard knobs, cinnamon-scented candles lit up all throughout the place, miniature Santa and reindeer figurines sitting on every surface alongside bowls of chocolates and peppermints with fake snow underneath. There was even a small fake Christmas tree crammed into the corner of their living room with colourful baubles (some of which Jimin had gifted and had pictures of you all printed on them) and equally colourful fairy lights hanging on it. And of course, Michael Bublé was on heavy rotation, his voice carried throughout the home. 
“Where’s Chae?” you asked Jisoo when she came up next to you, both of you standing in front of the Christmas tree. 
“Oh, you know-”
“Ah, great, you guys finally made it as well,” Chaeyoung exhaled, coming out from the kitchen, and seeing Jungkook and you among the other guests. There was a slight edge accompanying her words, and you doubted for no second that her nerves were running high from having to host tonight and needing all of this to turn out perfect. (Even if she chose this fate upon herself.) Her updo was falling apart, strands sticking out in the wrong places. Still, she looked pretty. Especially with her reindeer apron tied around her waist. She had had it since middle school, and seeing it brought back all kinds of memories. You couldn’t help but grin, Jisoo and you exchanging looks. And when your gaze met Chaeoyung’s, she knew. She rolled her eyes, shaking her head. 
“Yeah, I know,” she mumbled, speaking to you too only and confusing the others in the process. Jisoo and you snickered. 
“Anyway—” Chaeyoyung waved her hand around, “—I’ve got some unfortunate news. Dinner isn’t ready. I’ll need at least another thirty minutes. Hope you guys didn’t come too hungry.”
“Do you need help with anything?” Jungkook asked, already getting up from the couch. Yoongi raised his hand, silently extending the offer as well. Jennie nodded, clearly willing to get her hands dirty too.
“Yeah, anything we can do to help you?” Taehyung asked, making an effort to get up too, but Chaeyoung was quick to shake her head.
“No, I don’t need help,” she mumbled, clearing her throat. “I just wanted to inform you guys. You all would help if you guys just busied yourself and didn’t come into the kitchen.”
And before anyone could insist on their help, Chaeyoung disappeared back inside the kitchen.
“Shouldn’t we-?”
“If you wanna stay on her good side, don’t take a single step into the kitchen. Don’t even breathe in that direction, or think about helping her,” Jisoo explained, and Jungkook looked at you as if to ask if this was exaggerated at all.
“Yeah, Chae’s… very peculiar with that kind of stuff.”
“But there are so many of us. Is she really gonna do all of it on her own?” Jennie asked, but Hoseok waved her off. 
“Trust me, she is and she will. Chae gets super stressed, but she also loves to host. If you don’t let her, she’ll be in a bad mood for ages. It’s better to just let her do her own thing.”
“And if it actually gets too much, she’ll come out and ask for help at one point. Trust me,” Jimin added.
“You think? I’m not so sure about that one,” Jisoo snorted and moved over to grab a handful of chocolates. Almost instinctively, she placed a hand on Jennie’s shoulder, and for a moment, you wondered if Jungkook and you ever looked this natural and comfortable with each other. If you looked as much as a couple as Jisoo and Jennie did. “When has she ever asked for help?”
“There’s no way she can do all of this on her own,” Taehyung said, frowning.
“You don’t know Chae.”
“Maybe. But it seems humanly impossible to pull off this entire thing without asking for at least some help.”
Jisoo raised her brow at Taehyung, pausing a moment. “Oh, do you wanna bet?” Her mouth pulled into a grin at the mere prospect of making some easy money. “Ten bucks?”
Hoseok and you exchanged glances over their heads. This was very much typical of Jisoo. 
“Don’t bet with her, Tae. She’s a scammer,” Jimin said, pushing Jisoo’s hand away as she waited for him to shake it.
“I won’t,” Taehyung laughed, taking a sip from his beer. “You know I don’t do-”
The ear-shattering sound of a pan clashing with the kitchen tiles emerged from the kitchen, followed up with a few loud curses and an “It’s fine!”. You cringed when something else you couldn’t identify fell to the floor a second later, eliciting even more curses. Almost instinctively, you turned to Jisoo, nudging her. Because as much as she was right that it was a bad idea to go help Chaeyoung, it would actually be worse not to go in right now when everything seemed to go off the rails.
“Yeah, yeah, I know. My cue to jump in,” she grumbled, begrudgingly making her way to the kitchen, knowing already she would have to endure Chaeyoung’s snappy attitude. She squeezed Jennie’s hand in goodbye. 
“See, she’s getting help,” Taehyung said to no one in particular and righteously took a sip from his beer. Jungkook applauded him sarcastically, and you were about to say something when-
“Oh, this is cute!” Seokjin gasped, coming up to you. You followed his gaze to the bauble he was admiring. It had an old picture of you and your friends on it, faces curving around the porcelain. “How old are you guys there?”
You pursed your lips. “That’s probably senior year? So like seventeen maybe? Eighteen?”
“What are you guys doing- oh my God, you guys look so young.” Namjoon hooked an arm around Seokijn’s shoulder, marvelling at your younger selves. “Look at that one!”
He pointed out one with just Jisoo, Chaeyoung and you on it. It was one of the first pictures you three had taken together. All three of you still stuck in middle school. You couldn’t decide whether to be embarrassed or nostalgic.
“Is that Ji? Her hair, oh my God!” Seokjin laughed, pointing out the blunt bob Jisoo used to rock.
“Don’t be mean!” And yet, Namjoon laughed too.
“You’re lucky Ji can’t hear you right now because she’d kill you,” you said. “But actually, you should see some of Seok’s old pictures. He looks so different-”
A hand snaked around your waist. You tensed. But you relaxed a second later when you realised who it was. You peeked over your shoulder just to check and smiled when you turned out to be right. He placed his chin on your shoulder.
“Hello,” Jungkook whispered, and you squirmed, his breath tickling your ear. He was so close to you, too close. You could practically feel his heart beating behind yours.
“Hey,” you returned, a bit breathless and pitchy. You cleared your throat.
“What are you guys doing?”
“Oh, uh, nothing really,” you mumbled, waving your hand around.
Jungkook frowned, but didn’t ask any further. “Okay, well, I wanted to get you something to drink. You think I can go into the kitchen without getting murdered?”
“Yeah, you’re fine. Ji’s there too,” you said, glancing over your shoulder to meet his gaze. He was already looking at you, eyes big and so full and a smile on his lips.
“Okay, then do you want anything in particular?”
You shook your head. “Uh, no, whatever is fine.”
“Whatever it is.”
But rather than just leave to get you said drink, Jungkook lingered, not moving away from you just yet. You raised a brow at him, making him smile. As if he could read your mind, he loosened his grip around your waist, but not before pressing a kiss to your neck.
“Getting you that drink,” he smiled, backing away. 
You touched a hand to where he had kissed you, gripping, feeling hot all of a sudden. It was stupid, you were stupid. 
“Jesus.”
And albeit, it was quiet and muttered under his breath, you heard it very clearly. You looked at Seokjin, eyes big as he stared back at you with a grin on his lips. There was a fondness in his eyes, a look you always saw on Jimin’s face. Namjoon wore it too.
“What?” you asked when the expression wouldn’t disappear.
“It’s just-” 
He sighed and shook his head.
“What?” you repeated, but Seokjin wouldn’t continue.
“You guys are just cute,” Namjoon supplied.
“Oh, please,” you scoffed, shaking your head.
“You guys are exactly like Jin and Mina used to be,” Yoongi said, coming up next to you, having witnessed the entire exchange from his spot on the couch.
“What?” you laughed, shaking your head over and over again. “I have no idea what-”
“Don’t deny it, Y/N,” Namjoon laughed and looked at you.
“It’s gross really,” Yoongi scoffed, taking a sip from his beer. “How smitten he is for you. How happy and—” He shuddered for the drama of it all but wore a smile on his lips. “—stupidly in love you two are.”
Wait, what?
“It’s cute,” Seokjin corrected, and you stared at him with stunned silence. 
“Is it though?”
“Don’t be like that, Yoongs. When have you ever seen Kook this happy before?” 
The question, though not directed at you at all, made you freeze. And when you looked at Yoongi and he made no effort to disagree, you froze.
“You make him really happy,” Namjoon said with a smile and tilted his head when you didn’t speak or react at all, giving your shoulder a light squeeze. “You know that, right?”
His words hit you like a ton of bricks, crashing down on you and compressing your lungs. Because, no, you didn’t. You didn’t think about it ever, and why would you? It never seemed possible to you because it simply wasn’t possible you made Jungkook happy. You didn’t have that power over him.
Was this really how you looked like to others—two people who were in love and happy? It sounded ridiculous to you, impossible. So much so, you just had to shake your head and wave your hand around as if the words loomed in front of you and had to be physically dismissed. Your heart banged in your ribcage, loud and far too heavy.
“You guys are exaggerating!” you chuckled, voice wavering the slightest bit. “This has nothing to do with me- Finals are over and it’s Christmas, so obviously-”
A single look from them was all it took to silence you. They didn’t have to say a word for you to know what they were collectively thinking.
“Y/N, don’t be ridiculous,” Seokjin said.
“For god’s sake, just look at that boy,” Yoongi laughed, pointing behind you, and your gaze followed his hand. Right then Jungkook came back with two drinks, one for you and one for him. 
He seemed surprised, stilling as he saw that you were all looking at him. But he recovered, mouth pulling into a big smile. Your eyes met his. You would have missed it if you hadn’t looked so close and paid attention to every little thing he did. But you saw it, the tiny smile he offered you, and only you. It was like a little secret. Just for you and him to know and share and see. 
Did you really make him happy?
“Why are you guys staring at me like that?” Jungkook laughed, coming to a stop in front of you and handing you your drink. You took it passively, and purely from the warmth, you knew it was your favourite, green tea. “Are you guys talking shit about me?”
“Oh, yeah, you know just the usual shit talking we do about you,” Namjoon snorted.
“Mhm, the usual stuff. How you always-”
Seokjin’s voice faded away when Jungkook moved closer to you, his arm already lifting to sneak around your middle. But you couldn’t do this. Not now.
“Sorry, I gotta pee,” you mumbled, wringing out of Jungkook’s grasp, his fingers just barely brushing your skin. You didn’t know who you interrupted, but you offered them all an apologetic look but you never quite looked at Jungkook. Your exit seemed natural enough though, you thought. No one made an effort to stop you.
Some of your drink spilt over when you put it down on the coffee table too quickly, and you even almost bumped into Hoseok, but rather than apologise properly and clean up your mess, you hurried into the bathroom. 
The moment the lock clicked shut behind you, you let yourself crumble, knees giving in. If only just a little. 
Oh God.
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It wasn’t very environmentally friendly, not very Save the Turtles! kind of behaviour of you at all as you just let the water run and run into the sink and down the drain. You didn’t even wash your hands or face, just needing something to fill the silence as you sat on the edge of the bathtub and let yourself calm down.
You felt ridiculous. You truly did. Insane and crazy even. The behaviour you were exhibiting was probably therapist worthy. The panic. For what? And why? It was behaviour you never imagined yourself exhibiting. No less because of Jeon Jungkook. But here you were, playing his pretend girlfriend for money so he could win a bet. And you got all of your friends involved even! You should have really thought this through-
“Cabbage?”
And somehow, both dread and warmth crept up with his voice. You closed your eyes, thinking for a second to shut off the tap. It seemed just a little too exhausting to do that.
“Yeah?” 
“Are you good?”
“Yeah.”
It was quiet for a few seconds.
“Can I come in?”
“I’m peeing, Jeon.”
A lie. He knew. You knew.
“Fine, come in.”
When you wouldn’t move, Jungkook gave the door handle a try, surprised to see you hadn’t locked it. You had forgotten, and so he did it for you instead. The moment he saw you sitting on the edge of the bathtub with the tap carelessly running, he stopped, features folding into something nice, pleasant, empathetic.
“Stop,” you groaned, rolling your eyes and turning away from him, shutting off the tap as if that minimised how sad you had to look right now.
Jungkook chuckled, burying his hands into his pants, carefully walking towards you. He sat down next to you, knee pressed against yours. Neither of you pulled away. There was a part of you that should tell him to give you space, but you couldn’t. If anything, you turned a little to him.
“How are you always running off into the bathroom when you feel bad? It’s so obvious,” he mumbled, pinching your nose.
“Ow, stop!” you hissed, swatting his hand aside. 
He gave you a look, shaking his head, and you pouted like a child would. It made him chuckle, and you tensed when Jungkook put his head on yours, too tall to lean against your shoulder comfortably, his eyes falling shut. 
“What did they say?” Jungkook asked, breaking the silence after a while.
“What?”
“Joon and the others. What did they say to make you run off like that?”
You pressed your lips together, disliking that you were so easy to read.
“Who sent you?” you snorted, wanting to figure out which of your friends just earned themselves a plus point.
“No one.”
“What?” you blinked, and looked at him, but he kept his eyes closed. “So you-”
“No one sent me. I just… wanted to make sure you were fine myself.”
And hearing that was somehow utterly awful. Because it meant Jungkook cared. At least to some degree, at least enough to want to check on you. It meant that he was able to read you so easily, that he really knew you.
“Now, what did they say? You can tell me. I’ll talk to them for you. Or I won’t if you don’t want me-”
You shook your head, sighing. “Nothing. They said nothing.”
It was true. Because none of what Namjoon, Seokjin, and Yoongi said was worth running off. It wasn’t insulting, or hurtful. 
“Are you sure? Seriously, you can just tell me. I’d talk to-”
“I’m serious,” you interrupted, not even wanting to hear how far Jungkook would go for you. “They said nothing. I just had to pee.” You shrugged. “And I just needed a moment to breathe. It’s nothing. I promise.”
Jungkook sat up, glancing at you with his mouth pursed and eyes narrowed. “So just a moment to breathe?”
Your hand almost came up to cup his cheek, the urge to brush over the little scar on his cheekbone tempting you. It was difficult to resist when he was looking at you like that. There was this need, to plant your lips against his. Kiss him and assure him. But you didn’t let yourself. You turned your head to the other side, curling your hand around the cool porcelain of the bathtub until the skin stretched thin over your knuckles and almost hurt. Just anything but Jungkook and his stupidly pretty face.
“Just a moment to breathe,” you mumbled. 
Jungkook hummed, straightening up. He let his head hang for a few seconds before lifting it up again and turning to you.
“Is it fine if I stay with you then?”
It was a delicate question, an honest question, a devastating heartbreaking question. Because of course, he could. Of course! He could do anything, as long as he remained by your side. And that realisation, albeit not entirely new to you (you were aware of it to some degree all along), was mortifying. 
You closed your eyes, a knot forming in your throat. There was nothing for you to say, a silence stretching between you. A silence Jungkook took as a “yes”, and when his hand gripped yours, it was sealed for you. You didn’t pull away, put your head on his shoulder. What would be the use of resisting? What good would it do? What would it change? Nothing.
So you enjoyed it instead, the moment between him and you. For as long as you could. For now.
“We should probably get back out,” you mumbled when you heard the laughter get louder in the living room. 
“Probably.”
And yet, neither of you moved. A few more moments passed. It was the next bound of laughter that ripped you out.
“We should-”
“I think it’s time-”
You both stopped, nodding, knowing. Jungkook was first to get up, groaning like an old man before turning to you and offering you his hand. With one loud sigh, you took it, allowing him to pull you up. You shared a look and a smile.
It felt like you were walking into another world when you stepped outside, still holding hands. Before it was just Jungkook and you. Now it was everyone else too. And almost as if you had said that exact thought out loud, everyone looked at you as you walked back in. You stopped, the same way Jungkook had when he had returned and found you all staring at him. You frowned, the grin spreading on Jimin’s and Jisoo’s (When had she made it back?) faces worrying you. Jungkook seemed as clueless as you.
“What?”
No one said anything for a second. 
“Can I?” Jisoo asked, pleading with everyone else, and you narrowed your eyes. She was giddy, and her being giddy was never a good sign, especially for you. Most times it meant you’d be miserable.
“Do the honours,” Jimin said, gesturing for her to ahead.
Jisoo leaned back, grinning from ear to ear. She seemed to stretch the moment thin, take her sweet time to reveal to you what exactly entertained her so much. Jennie shook her head next to her, but she wore a smile on her lips, amused.
You kept close to Jungkook, almost instinctively. As if he could protect you. His hand brushed the small of your back, soothing. Taehyung’s irritating snicker grabbed your attention for a second, but before you could frown at him for it, Jisoo spoke,
“Look up.”
Fuck. You should have figured.
“Ah,” Jungkook laughed upon seeing the mistletoe above your heads. 
“You guys are funny,” you scoffed, shaking your head. “And very cute for thinking that we are gonna do-”
“You have to!” Jimin interjected, leaning forward and pointing at the two of you. “It’s the law. The rules of the game.”
You frowned, and the lines deepened even more when you saw everyone from Namjoon, Seokjin and Jennie to Taehyung, Hoseok, Yoongi and Jisoo nodding along. Of course, they found pleasure in your misery. 
“It’s bad luck if you don’t,” Hoseok reminded you of the stupid rules, and you could have thrown something at him. How was no one on your side?
“That’s… made up.”
“Well, if you wanna risk the bad luck, be my guest,” Hoseok chuckled, shrugging, and you rolled your eyes. 
“Oh, please, no one believes that!” 
But you were met with no ounce of support from anyone. You turned to Jungkook, expecting that he was equally as ticked off as you. But he seemed perfectly fine, his features not even slightly twisted into anything resembling irritation. If anything, he was smiling a little when you met his eyes. 
“I don’t know, I’m never one to tempt fate,” he said, and you couldn’t quite decide how to react. Jungkook reached for your hand again, playing with your fingers. “Why risk the bad luck? Also, it’s not like we have never kissed in front of them.” He grinned. “Remember how you jumped me and-”
“Oh my God, I didn’t jump you!” Your voice leapt up a few pitches too high and remained there when your friends began to laugh.
“Now that’s a lie. You practically threw yourself at-”
“Jeon!”
Jungkook cackled, and you could have strangled him right then and there. Your friends laughed too, and you would have snapped at them if your cheeks didn’t warm to an uncomfortable degree. To the point the blood boiled in your ears, so much so you didn’t even hear Namjoon’s holler about how it was just a kiss!
It wasn’t completely lost on you that it was stupid to be embarrassed, considering how boldly you had claimed Jungkook as yours in front of a room of strangers just a few weeks ago. Especially considering that all of your friends had a slight alcohol level going on anyway already and were most definitely moving on the second the kiss happened. But it was different. At the Halloween party, you were positively buzzed, your vision blurry and fuzzy. But more importantly, you were jealous to the point of turning green. It seemed so much more intimate to kiss Jungkook in front of everyone now. And so very vulnerable because you wanted to so much. Kiss him. You always did these days, yearned to. That desire scared you, was mortifying in more ways than you could describe, particularly in this moment because what if they could all sense it? What if Jungkook realised it all of a sudden? That you really wanted this? That your entire heart ached for him? 
And as if you had the fear written all over your face, Jungkook reached for you, tugging on your elbow and turning you back to him. He gave you a smile, his head tilted to the side. A few strands slipped out of his perfectly messy hair, and a soft shadow covered half his face. Right then, he seemed all so delicate to you, so good, so precious. It was instant, your heartbeat dwindled into something calmer and wilder at the same time. Somehow, it seemed almost easy and much more difficult to kiss him and pretend it didn’t dig daggers into your heart. None of it made sense, the effect he had on you, but you supposed a lot of things hadn’t made sense in your life since Jungkook’s first appearance.
“It’s just a kiss, cabbage,” he mumbled, shrugging. 
It was. It was just a kiss, to your friends, to him. It was nothing, a small price you had to pay to entertain your friends. It was fun and simple. It was just unfortunate that it was so much more to you. 
You held your breath when Jungkook placed a hand on your cheek, thumb brushing over your cheekbone, gentle and soothing. He was doing everything right, and yet, you could have thrown up right then and there. Jimin gasped and squeaked as Jungkook inched closer to you, Jisoo grasping onto his arm because oh my God, they were going to kiss! All while you were desperately, almost frantically, fisting Jungkook’s shirt, as if you would float away otherwise and it was the only thing keeping you on the ground.
And Jungkook kissed you all too delicately.
To the point, you could have believed him. That you meant something to him, that he might just be in love with you. It was horrible, to be kissed like that. You weren’t sure if this was how it felt like, to be in love and to be loved. You hoped it wasn’t.
You pulled him closer to you, deepened the kiss, allowed him in. For just a while, you told yourself. Just until you found the strength in you to resist him, until you deemed your own well-being more important than these fleeting highs with Jungkook.
“Alright, dinner’s- oh.” 
Chaeyoung stopped right before she could bump into you, and you quickly pulled away. But Jungkook kept holding you, not letting go of you. Chaeyoung placed her hands on her hips and shot Jimin and Jisoo a long look.
“Ah, who of you idiots did this?” 
“Why do you assume it was-”
“So it was you,” Chaeyoung said, interrupting Jimin and shaking her head. “Take it off. Dinner’s ready.”
Jisoo slapped his shoulder, laughing, clearly enjoying seeing him getting reprimanded by Chaeyoung. Jimin rolled his eyes, mumbling something about how Chaeyoung was no fun but he followed her orders, getting up and reaching for the bundle above your heads. You backed away-actually you jumped. It made Jimin pause and narrow his eyes, his mouth lifting into a smile when he saw the opportunity.
“Oh, what if I hold it over you-”
“No, don’t even!” you hissed, pushing Jimin away from you and seeking refuge behind Chaeyoung. 
“Oh, it’s just one more kiss, Y/N!” Jimin taunted, following you. You shrieked, moving further from him, irritated by the constant laughter spilling from his throat. He was enjoying this too much. Too much!
“Fuck off!”
“Don’t be like-”
“I’m serious, stop!”
“It’s fun-”
“Okay, no, enough,” Jungkook said, stepping in and swiftly taking the mistletoe from Jimin. He slapped him with it lightly, eliciting a gasp from Jimin. “No more chasing my girlfriend with mistletoe, okay? Or you can do your physics assignments on your own.” 
Rubbing his cheek, almost convinced he was allergic to mistletoe now, Jimin gasped as if Jungkook had just declared an end to their friendship. “Kook! How could you say that?”
“Stop chasing my girlfriend then.”
“Oh my God, fine, I won’t,” Jimin groaned, pouting. “You’re so lame.”
When he reached for the mistletoe, Jungkook hesitated, looking over to you and even though you preferred him not to hold it in his hands again, you knew Jimin would get even more offended if Jungkook withheld the bundle from him. So you gave him a nod. 
“Okay, alright, dinner’s getting cold,” Chaeyoung said, clapping her hands together when Jimin was back in possession of his mistletoe. “So how about we take this party into the kitchen, yeah?”
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Like you had said he would, Jungkook got an earful from Chaeyoung when she noticed the expensive bottle of wine suddenly appear on the dinner table because how dare you bring something when I clearly said not to? And on top of that such an expensive bottle too. Do you shit money? Somebody needs to teach you how to manage your finances. Rather than come to his help, you left Jungkook to fend for himself which earned you puppy eyes from him, but hadn’t you told him better? Surprisingly however he managed to convince her to open the bottle anyway. You were sure she’d get him to return it, or at least take it home again. Jungkook could be very compelling. But you knew that already. 
“If the teaching thing doesn’t work out—” Namjoon had his mouth stuffed as he spoke, and you caught Yoongi cringing next to him. “—I think you should become a cook, Chae.”
She smiled sheepishly, waving him off. “Oh, please. My mom’s cooking is so much better.”
“I don’t know if I believe you,” he laughed. “This is seriously so good.”
Hoseok shoved a big bite into his mouth, a drop of sauce splashing onto the table. Chaeyoung smiled and wiped it off for him. He thanked her.
“It’s the best food on Earth. I’d die for it,” Jimin sighed, a little too loud and dramatic, his mouth full with food, giving you all a glimpse into what his stomach must look like. His cheeks were tinted a slight pink, the red wine slowly flushing him through. “Like that one Gordon Ramsey meme? Where you know—” He sat up, changing his voice in a failed attempt to mimic the British celebrity chef. “—he’s like ‘Finally some good fucking food.’ or whatever. That’s how I always feel when I eat Chae.”
For a second, there was silence. Jungkook and you looked at each other with big eyes, a hint of a smile on your lips because it was obvious that Jimin hadn’t realised what he had said, blabbering on and on without a second thought.
“Maybe you should calm it on the alcohol,” Seokjin mumbled, pushing Jimin’s glass away from him. But it had the opposite effect, making him reach for it instead and down the entire contents of his glass in one quick go.
“Never!”
“You mean… her food. When you eat her food, you could cry, right?” Taehyung clarified, and Jimin looked at him with big eyes.
“Oh, yes of course! What else would I mean?” he laughed, loud and boisterous. “Chae’s all yours, Seok. Don’t worry. I’m not your competition.” 
Chaeyoung almost choked on the wine, and Hoseok turned a few shades redder. 
“Someone get this idiot some water,” Yoongi snorted, and Namjoon already got up.
You turned your gaze to Jisoo when she leaned into you, taking the chaos as a chance to just talk to you, her hand grabbing yours.
“How’s the scarf going by the way? Are your loops now clean?” she whispered, careful to keep her voice low. You glanced towards Jungkook, but he was busy trying to convince Jimin to drink a few sips from the water at least. And though he hadn’t heard a word, you glared at Jisoo, shaking your head.
“Not with him around,” you hissed, and she rolled her eyes.
“Oh, look at him. He’s not paying us attention. I wanna know. I’m invested now, especially because you always called me a grandma for knitting. How’s it going?” she asked, and you knew it was best to just quickly answer her because she wasn’t dropping this.
“Yeah, yeah, I got it now. It’s almost done-”
“What are you guys whispering about?” Jennie asked, leaning in, eyes wandering between Jisoo and you.
“Y/N’s knitting a scarf for her boyfriend for Christmas.”
“Ji!” 
Your features couldn’t decide whether or not to contort in embarrassment or fear Jungkook had overheard this time. It’d ruin your surprise. You were in luck though because he wasn’t paying your conversation any mind.
“Oh, that’s cute!” Jennie squealed. “I only thought Ji knits. I didn’t know you knit too, Y/N.”
“I-”
“She doesn’t. She just sews a little,” Jisoo said, beating you to it. She leaned towards Jennie as if she was telling her a secret and didn’t want you to hear, but she deliberately kept eye contact with you and didn’t even lower her voice, her lips curling up. “She learned how to knit for her stupid little boyfriend. She asked me so many questions and bought so much yarn too. It was so annoying-”
You kicked Jisoo in the shin, shutting her up. She sharply sucked in her breath, hands flying to her leg, mouth agape in a silent screech.
“You’re talking too much,” you hissed, not remorseful at all even as she rubbed her shin. Jennie laughed. 
“That’s really cute of you though, Y/N,” she said, smiling at you. “I like the idea. He’s gonna love it.”
“It’s just a scarf,” Jisoo mumbled, rolling her eyes, words dipping into an astonishing amount of immaturity. “It’s not that cute. I could knit you a better scarf-”
“Stop bragging. It’s different. You’ve always knit. Y/N made an effort to learn how to for Kook.”
“I’d learn how to do something new for you.”
“So do.”
“What? Like I won’t?”
You took that as your cue to exit the conversation, glancing over to Jungkook instead. He hadn’t noticed your conversation at all. In fact, he was stuffing his mouth full. Some extra sauce decorated the corner of his mouth in his haste. Without missing a beat, you wiped it off with your thumb before cleaning it on his napkin. He turned to you, eyes as big as a reindeer caught in headlights. It hit you only then as he stared at you and you stared at him, what you had done. How intimate the nature of the gesture had been. You might as well have ripped out your heart and told him to keep it. It would have been the same.
“Did… you just-”
“Oh, the wine is actually so good!” Jisoo sighed, putting down her glass, and right now you were very glad she sat next to you. “I think that’s the best wine I’ve ever had.”
Jungkook’s eyes darted between her and you. He was thinking, contemplating if he’d engage with Jisoo in a conversation, or tease you until you were just about ready to be swallowed by a hole. Maybe it was the way you wouldn’t even look in his direction and kept your gaze trained on Jisoo, or maybe because he was planning on bringing it up another time, but in the end, he decided to spare you.
“I’m happy to hear you like it,” he grinned before jabbing you in the side. You flinched, grabbing his hand before he could do it again. “See, and you said they wouldn’t taste the difference.”
“She doesn’t,” you grumbled, brows creased together.
“She’s just saying that because she knows how expensive it is,” Taehyung said, and for once you agreed. Jisoo rolled her eyes at him, mumbling something about not wanting to argue with an idiot and picking a piece of lint off of Jennie’s shoulder instead.
Jungkook shrugged. “Whatever. She likes it, so worth every penny.”
You were about to let go of his hand, feeling any kind of contact was a step too much, a step into a very wrong and dangerous direction. But Junkook interlaced his fingers with yours, holding it firm, thumb brushing over the back of your hand. For a second, you contemplated pulling away because this was too much, too close. You didn’t, not finding the strength in you to do it. 
“Actually, I haven’t learned half of my mom’s cooking. She always makes this amazing pork belly stew for every Christmas. If you love this, you’ll love that,” Chaeyoung said, pulling you into their conversation that seemed to have circled back to her cooking.
“Are you gonna go back home for Christmas? Because I’ll go with you if so. That stew sounds amazing,” Yoongi said.
“Oh my God, if you are, please take me with you too because this is so good,” Jennie sighed dreamily, making Chaeyoung laugh. 
“Excuse me, what about our Christmas plans?” Jisoo gasped with faux upset, and immediately Hoseok, Chaeyoung, Jimin and you exchanged glances. 
Moving fast, Hoseok mouthed and you nodded. You had no idea. At the same time, it seemed to work for them.
“Oh, can’t we just drop by for dinner really quickly for some food?” Jennie tried, pursing her lips into a pout, but Jisoo just clicked her tongue and shook her head.
“Good food is all it takes, huh?”
Jennie laughed.
“Is everyone going home for Christmas?” Namjoon asked, wiping his mouth before grabbing his glass of wine, holding it up to his lips, speaking into it. “I know Kook is for sure.”
Jungkook nodded. “Got me there.”
And even without looking at him, you knew he was smiling and more than excited to go back home. He squeezed your hand, and you could tell he did so unconsciously. You squeezed back, happy for him that he was happy.
“Oh, right, I’ve been meaning to ask!” Jimin gasped, turning rather dramatically towards you. You blinked, unsure of what was about to spill from his lips.
“Is it true that you’re going back home with Kook, Y/N?” 
What?
Everyone turned to you, Chaeyoung raising her brow at you because were you? You stared back at her, mouth opened and closing because no, right? You weren’t, or were you? Your eyes lifted to Jungkook, and he had that same look on his face. Neither of you knew what to say or do. This wasn’t something you had discussed. And why would you have? It’d be ridiculous to assume that you’d be going back home with Jungkook to meet his parents for Christmas.
“Uh-?”
“I’m just asking because Kook’s parents have been asking me if I knew if he’s actually gonna bring you,” Jimin continued, shrugging. And maybe you would have focused on how much you wanted to strangle him right now and needed him to shut up if your mind wasn’t reeling from the fact that Jungkook seemed to have not only told his parents about your existence but also that you would be spending Christmas with them.
What?
“Okay, yeah, no, wait,” Jungkook interjected, a clear panic in his voice, turning fully to you. “I can explain.”
You blankly stared at him, unable to even make a single sound. He dug a hand through his hair, looking even more panicked the longer you said nothing.
“So, uh, my brother saw my posts and stories online and might have told my parents… that I’m dating you. And so they’ve been really curious and asking about you a lot, and it was a little annoying, so I just told them that I might bring you around for Christmas to shut them up. But—” He held out his hand as if to get ahead of you saying anything. “—I didn’t promise them anything. I just said it to get them off my back, you know?”
You continued staring at him, unsure of how to react or what to say because well, you hadn’t thought that either of your parents were ever going to get involved in any shape or form. You hadn’t even played with the idea of telling your parents. And why would you? All of this was fake! A ruse, so Jungkook could win his stupid bet!
“It wasn’t planned, or anything, okay? I wasn’t going to tell them about you-”
“You weren’t?” Jimin blurted out, brows pinching together. He seemed to have lost all ability to read the room, just a glass or two of wine enough to dull his brain. “Ow-!”
He glared at Taehyung, rubbing his arm. It still wasn’t enough to shut him up however. 
“What was that for? I’m just saying I’m a little surprised that Jungkook, the definition of a mama’s and papa’s boy, was planning on keeping his girlfriend a secret when he hasn’t shut up about Y/N for months-”
“No, wait it’s not like that,” Jungkook quickly scrambled, gesturing wildly. “It’s just that my parents, you know, can get a little much. And, I don’t know-”
His sentence didn’t find an end, and Jimin seemed to just take that as a sign to go on, 
“Didn’t Narae meet-”
“Okay, how about you finish your food, huh?” Taehyung interrupted, taking Jimin’s fork and picking up a big piece of meat before shoving it into his mouth. Namjoon and Seokjin exchanged glances, cringing. Yoongi lowered his head, and Jennie slid down on her seat. Chaeyoung looked at you with big empathetic eyes and Jisoo even gave your hand a squeeze. 
If there was anything genuine between you, this would have been devastating. Luckily, there wasn’t. So it couldn’t hurt. And yet, your heart felt like it was bleeding in your chest, a dagger shoved in, a dagger with Jungkook’s name. He was staring holes into you, but you couldn’t look at him, settling on the edge of the table instead. You weren’t hurt. You weren’t hurt that Narae with her perfect smile and manicured nails and beautiful hair and glossy lips got to meet his parents and you didn’t. It didn’t bother you at all! That was what you told yourself at least. Because you couldn’t possibly be hurt. Not when your relationship was transactional and just an act. And yet, to your misery, you were hurt, deeply. You hated it, how you weren’t all that unbothered as you wanted and more importantly, should be. 
You were pulled out of your thoughts though when you saw the glare Hoseok was looking at Jungkook with. It dawned on you how awful all of it had to sound to your friends then. Narae, who never even was Jungkook’s official girlfriend, got to meet his parents, but you, who was officially (at least to them) his girlfriend, he not only didn’t want to introduce to them but also planned on keeping a secret?
“Oh my God, you guys!” you laughed, loud and light, like it was all so very dumb and stupid. With a big swoop, you grabbed Jungkook’s hand on the table, hoping no one saw the shake in your fingers. Everyone looked at you.
“You’re misunderstanding. We had agreed from the beginning that we should take it a little slower, and not tell everyone immediately. I knew he wasn’t going to tell his parents. I told him not to.” You put on your most convincing smile, swallowing the knot in your throat, hoping desperately it was enough. Everyone was looking at you, and you looked right back at them, at everyone except for Jungkook. Your vision almost blurred, hazy at the edges, feeling your composure threaten to slip.
“It’s nothing.”
There was a slight shake in your voice, the tiniest of a waver. You couldn’t tell if your friends noticed, their faces unreadable to you. A moment of silence stretched across the room, the food long forgotten about. In the end, it was slightly tipsy Jimin, the one who started it all, to break the awkwardness.
“Okay, well, do I text them… yes or-?”
You wondered if Jimin was this stupid, or trying to put you through hell on purpose. His question made Taehyung next to him sigh and shake his head, lips pressed together as he stared daggers into the older one.
“What?” Jimin whispered, offended. Maybe you should have taken the wine from him sooner. 
You looked at Jungkook finally. He didn’t seem to have an answer at all, his eyes big and wide like a child’s. There was something in them that you couldn’t quite pinpoint. It almost seemed like he wanted you to agree, say yes, of course, you’d meet his parents. You had to be imagining it. As quickly as it had come, you squashed the thought.
It was up to you. The decision was in your hands. Everyone was waiting for your answer. Jungkook would have to go with whatever you were saying, whether or not he liked it. 
A lot of it was probably spite, spite that Narae met them already and you hadn’t. And how would it look if you weren’t there when Jungkook inevitably made a post about being back home with his family and you weren’t there in the pictures? What would Narae think? You could already see a backhanded Instagram story in front of your eyes, how there was trouble in paradise. It was something you wouldn’t put past her at all, seeing as she had done so before, posting just an hour after Jungkook celebrated your one month anniversary about how cringe some couples could be. Anyone doubting your relationship might just lead to Taehyung doubting your relationship and then to Jungkook losing his bet and all of this would have been for nothing. That couldn’t happen, right? You had to do something against it!
“They probably won’t stop bothering you until you tell them yes, right?” 
You tried your hardest to sound casual, nonchalant, chill as some might say. This was no big deal, you told yourself.
It wasn’t what Jungkook had expected. He thought you’d give some roundabout answer that in the end summarised that you needed to keep things slow and easy. But you agreed. You were going to meet his parents. He searched for something in your features, anything to tell him how you genuinely felt about it. He was trying to read you, but it was like he had the wrong dictionary. 
“If that’s alright with you-” Maybe it was to hit the nail on the head, finish it off, you couldn’t say. But the urge was strong right then, just once to say it. “—babe?”
You turned to him and looked at him almost confidently. It was both your face and the pet name, but Jungkook couldn’t help but laugh. Of course, now you were going to call him babe. A grin spread across his lips.
“Okay, yeah.” He held your hand firmer and tighter. “I’d be more than happy for you to meet my parents. They’d be thrilled.”
He was a great liar. It sounded oh so very genuine.
You squeezed his hand and turned to Jimin. “I guess you can text them I’m going.”
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“I think that was it,” Jungkook said, handing you the last few dirty plates. 
“Alright,” you hummed, moving around some of the dishes to make some more space in the dishwasher. 
“Oh,” Chaeyoung exclaimed in surprise upon seeing Jungkook standing there with you, “you can head out first. I’ll help Y/N.” 
She wore a smile on her lips, but you knew better. 
“It’s fine. I’ll just help-”
“No, really, get out,” Chaeyoung interrupted, slipping just the slightest bit and you gave Jungkook a look, almost reaching out for his hand and giving it a squeeze. She was curt, too curt. It surprised him, clearly. “I’m the host. I’ll clean up. Join the others in the living room.”
You offered him a nod, and with that Jungkook slipped out, receiving a more genuine smile and a quiet thank you from Chaeyoung on the way out because she knew he was more than confused by her just now. Before he even had the chance to turn to ask whether or not he should close the door, she did herself. You knew to prepare yourself, putting the stack of dishes aside. She folded her arms in front of her stomach.
This was an interrogation.
In another world (read: in a detective TV show), there’d be a metal table between you and you’d be handcuffed to it. A clock would decorate the blank walls, ticking away in the background, and the air would be chilly and humid, stifling almost. Chaeyoung would dramatically slide pictures across to you, and they would be incriminating ones, blurry but clearly depicting you in the middle of whatever crime you were accused of. She would point at them and tell you how you had one chance to tell her the truth.
“How are you?”
Just the question almost made you laugh. It was heartwarming. You knew exactly what she was trying to get out of you—if it hurt you at all that Narae had met Jungkook’s parents and he had seemingly wanted to keep you a secret. You dried your hands on the kitchen towel.
“I’m fine, thanks. How are you-”
“Are you lying?”
She took this very seriously, her face not even holding a hint of a smile. Again, in another world she’d stare you down, gaze cold and unwavering, and ask if you wanted to try again.
“Do I look like I am lying?”
You were lying about all of it, about most things concerning Jungkook and you these days. But you couldn’t say that. You couldn’t admit that the entire conversation during dinner hurt you to the degree it did, to a degree you would rather not admit, that it hurt at all to begin with. Because being hurt implied you had some sort of right to be, implied Jungkook owed you… something. And that was just not true.
Chaeyoung paused, sizing you up. It was hard to figure out what conclusion she came to, her eyes narrowed and sharp. She opened her mouth, but right then, someone announced themselves with a knock on the door. Without waiting, they poked their head in, and it could realistically only be one person. 
“What did she say?” Jisoo asked.
Were you air today?
“Says she’s fine,” Chaeyoung said, wrinkling her nose.
“You don’t believe her?” Jisoo slipped inside and slowly closed the door, making sure beforehand though that no one was in earshot. Chaeyoung scrutinised you for another moment before coming to her conclusion with a long sigh.
“No, I do.” She paused before looking at you. “You know I’d- we’d rip him into pieces for you, right?”
You had no doubt for a second they would. Actually, all of your friends would, but Chaeyoung and Jisoo would be the first ones to throw a punch.
“I do, and I love you guys for it,” you say, smiling genuinely because God, you did love your friends so much. “But you don’t have to because I’m fine. And like I said, we had talked about it. You know how I am. Parents aren’t my thing.”
“Well, for that you just agreed to go meet them,” Jisoo mumbled, scrunching her nose, and you swallowed. Maybe it was hearing it from someone else, or maybe it was because you were no longer sitting around the dinner table with everyone expectedly staring at you and awaiting for an explanation, but it finally hit you. What exactly you had agreed to. Once your mind wasn’t clouded with the thought of Narae, you realised that oh my God, you were meeting Jungkook’s parents.
It was funny how quickly things could change. How just a few minutes ago, you didn’t worry about it at all, only thinking of Narae and her stupid perfect grin and the fact she had met them, and now you were worried because what would they say about you? Would they like you? What if they were like Jaehwa’s parents and-
“Now, don’t make that face,” Chaeyoung interrupted, putting a hand on your shoulder, noticing your spiral. “They’re gonna like you.”
“Yeah, you don’t have anything to worry about at all, Y/N,” Jisoo reassured. “If anything, they should be on their best behaviour. Because if not…”
And like the amazing friend she was, Jisoo started punching the air, showing you her swift moves that she would put on Jungkook’s parents. 
“Can’t you see? They say one wrong thing, and it’d be over for them. Ji would do these weird punches and knock them right out,” Chaeyoung said. “It’s gonna be fine. Has to.”
“Also, with the way Jungkook acts with you, let’s be honest he’s head over heels for you,” Jisoo argued, putting an arm around you. “I can see him standing up for you.”
“Yeah, I hate to give a man any credit, but he would.”
“And again, if he doesn’t…” Jisoo didn’t finish her sentence, instead showing you her oh so brilliant and not wobbly but actually super fatal kick.
They both turned to you, and you slowly nodded. Maybe they were right. You didn’t necessarily think Jungkook would stand up for you, not because you didn’t believe he would but because you didn’t even let yourself go there. If you did, if you assumed he would do something like that for you, you’d be having expectations for him and you had no right to. But you knew that Chaeyoung and Jisoo would be there for you, and it was a comforting thought. That was enough. Your friends were enough. And maybe, you just liked to believe them too—that it would all somehow turn out just fine.
“Yeah, I guess,” you mumbled.
“It’s gonna be fine!” Chaeyoung repeated, squeezing your shoulder.
Before you could dwell on it any further, a knock on the kitchen door interrupted you. 
“Yeah?” Jisoo said, and a moment later, Hoseok stuck his head in, offering an apologetic smile because he obviously knew what was going on in here.
“Sorry to interrupt, but Jimin asked for you, Chae,” he said, sounding unsure. He clearly hadn’t gotten a reason as to why he was supposed to call for Chaeyoung. She frowned and seemed less than willing to go, but you saw this as a great opportunity to put an end to this conversation and move on. Ignoring the fact you were going to meet Jungkook’s parents wasn’t going to solve the issue, but right now your brain felt mushy and drained. Too much of today’s focus had been on you, you couldn’t do it any longer.
“Let’s just all go,” you said. “We’ve been here for too long anyway.”
Jisoo agreed, mumbling something about how she couldn’t leave Jennie alone with all of the guys outside any longer, not in good conscience at least. She helped you put the last few plates into the dishwasher, and hooked her arm with yours as you made your way back into the living room, her head resting on your shoulder.
“Did he say what he wanted?” Chaeyoung asked Hoseok, the two walking behind you. 
“Probably something stupid.”
And indeed it was.
Because the moment Jisoo and you had made it past the doorstep, Jimin jumped up and pointed at Chaeyoung and Hoseok. The two froze, all eyes on them, and when you turned to look, you found them in the same fate as Jungkook and you had been in earlier.
“Oh, Jimin,” you chuckled, shaking your head. He beamed with pride, chest out and a grin bigger than his entire face. 
“We aren’t-” Chaeyoung couldn’t even finish her sentence, sputtering for words. “No! This is… stupid!”
“You have to. Otherwise, it’s bad luck,” Jungkook grinned. “That’s what you said, right, Seok?”
Hoseok looked positively ready to strangle him, but you couldn’t have been prouder of him right now. Even though Jimin was the one to orchestrate this, it felt like sweet revenge to get back at Hoseok. And really, you were helping him and Chaeyoung. Maybe today was the day finally something would happen.
“Seok and I aren’t- we aren’t-”
“It’s just a kiss!” Seokjin said, and you nodded. Because as much as you felt for them, having been in their position, you knew Chaeyoung wouldn’t have come to your rescue. She might have disapproved, but she would have definitely enjoyed the show and let it go on until you kissed.
“Just do a quick peck,” Taehyung suggested, pressing a kiss to Yoongi’s cheek to demonstrate. The older one wiped his cheek and shook his head, but there was clear amusement tugging on the corners of his mouth too. You laughed at the absurdity of it all, especially when you caught the embarrassed looks on Chaeyoung’s and Hoseok’s faces.
“Also if you hadn’t walked in together like I had predicted you obviously would, you wouldn’t be in this situation,” Jimin said, and Hoseok let out a noise that could only be described as a weak and mangled attempt at faux upset. “You guys are so clearly in love with each other anyway, just kiss!”
“Oh my God,” Chaeyoung let out a scoff, but it sounded pitchy and panicked, “seriously? H-how many times do we have to tell you guys that we are just really good friends? Just like Jimin and Y/N!”
“Don’t be ridiculous here, Chae,” you laughed. “Jimin and I are just friends, but you two? Oh, please.”
“There was an attempt, huh?”
Chaeyoung glared at Jisoo, her cheeks gaining a deeper shade of red with every passing second. In a last ditch attempt, she turned to Hoseok, hoping for some backup from him.
“Tell them-”
This time when her sentence got lodged in her throat, it was for a very different reason. Because Hoseok was looking at her like he was ready to risk it all in front of everybody. Like he was ready to just say it, do something. And Chaeyoung knew, freezing to a statue.
Jisoo and you looked at each other, gasping. Her nails dug into your arm and you held onto her just as strongly. Your breath hitched in your throat as Hoseok placed a hand on Chaeyoung’s cheek, pausing and hesitating for a moment, as if he waited for her to reject him before ultimately kissing her. And instantly, she pulled him closer.
It was like a scene out of every 2000s romantic comedy, the finale of the third act, what you had all been waiting up to. It was a scene to swoon and die for. 
A sense of joy you had rarely felt overtook you, a rush. You began shaking Jisoo, mouth split into a grin. As much as you had wanted and actually still wanted to strangle Jimin tonight for bringing that stupid mistletoe, you were just about ready to kiss him (platonically and only figuratively of course).
“See!” Jimin laughed, pointing at Hoseok and Chaeyoung, both of them flushed red to the tips of their ears. But they were smiling too. This had been good.
“I can’t believe that this is how you guys get together,” Jisoo laughed, Chaeyoung and Hoseok looking at each other, his arm wrapped around her middle. They laughed, shrugging.
Jimin proudly pointed at himself, beaming brighter than a Christmas tree. “All my doing.”
“Shut up,” Yoongi laughed, trying and failing to kick him in the knee. And though his attempt wasn’t successful, it earned him a thank you! from Chaeyoung. Jimin looked over to Namjoon for some kind of help, but he simply shrugged. He scoffed when he saw Seokjin squeeze Yoongi’s shoulder, mumbling something about how he was just jealous.
“I mean… neither did I,” Hoseok chuckled, seeming still completely out of it, unbelieving.
“Thought about it a lot, huh?” Taehyung asked, grinning, and for a moment, you could see Hoseok struggling to answer, decide whether or not he wanted to admit the blatant truth, confess that he’d been imagining this more times than he should have. In the end, he cared less about saving face and looking cool, and much more about who he had his arm wrapped around, finally.
“Yeah, always.”
And just like that, Chaeyoung pulled him down for another kiss. The sight warmed Jisoo’s heart because she turned to Jennie, reaching out for her. With a slight tug, she was at Jennie’s side. You laughed, shaking your head, just to catch Jungkook looking at you. For a moment, you didn’t quite know what to do even though you weren’t the one caught staring. The same couldn’t be said about Jungkook. He didn’t seem to care at all, eyes not holding an ounce of uncertainty. It was obvious that he was much more confident and comfortable with being seen by you. Something you still weren’t at this point, not entirely at least, not right in this very moment, or… actually ever.
Jungkook didn’t say anything as he stretched his hand out. You hesitated, if just for a second. Because maybe you shouldn’t. Not when your heart was beating the way it was. And yet, you did take it, did let him pull you close and hold you and press his lips to the top of your head.
“You don’t have to meet them if you don’t want to.”
He whispered it, spoke in a soft and warm voice. His words floated to your ears, and you knew. You didn’t have to do anything ever actually. Not for him at least. He expected nothing from you. You closed your eyes, and listened to his heartbeat in his chest. Strong and firm. It was the opposite of yours. Yours was a mess, thumping and skipping beats. 
“I will.”
Jungkook smiled as bright as the sun, pressing another kiss to your head. You could feel the excitement rushing through his fingertips, his arm tightening around you. You didn’t know the reason for it, his excitement. It didn’t make sense why he would be, you weren’t his girlfriend after all. You refused to think about it, preferring the bliss of ignorance.
God, you loved him so much. You did. You loved Jungkook to an indescribable amount. And God, was it time to stop all of this.
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The video had been playing for less than twenty seconds when the call came in, your phone lighting up beside you. You paused your laptop, his name taking up your entire phone screen. And though Jungkook and you had begun calling each other more frequently now, spending at least once a week on the phone together, you were confused when you glanced at the time. But you accepted the call, sliding your thumb over the glass. Some ruffling met your ears before finally, he came through.
“Hi.”
For some reason, there was a smile on your lips.
“What do you want?” you laughed, glancing at the time in the upper left corner of your phone. 01:24. “It’s late. Why aren’t you sleeping?”
“Could say the same about you,” Jungkook argued, and you rolled your eyes, scoffing slightly, already sensing where this was going. You leaned back into your couch, looking at the ceiling with renewed interest.
“I’m not tired.”
“Neither am I.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Then neither do I.”
“Well, you had a full day of classes today, so you must be at least a little tired,” you shot back, and a beat of silence passed. For a moment, it seemed like you came out victorious. 
“You know my schedule?”
The question hung in front of you, and you were glad that this was just a call. Because you could see it, his stupid face. The proud smile on his lips, the grin that adorned it. He would inch closer to you, push you to answer, and you would cave and crumble terribly. 
“... no.”
And Jungkook began laughing almost immediately, his voice booming through your phone. You cringed, biting your tongue. 
“I’m going to hang up.”
“No, no, no, don’t,” he said, still laughing however. “I’m sorry.”
His apology didn’t sound an ounce sincere, but you were never going to actually hang up. A comfortable silence passed, and you could have stayed on the phone forever.
“Oh, have you watched the newest video I sent you yet?”
“You mean the two hour long video essay about the phenomenal music scoring of Avatar?” you hummed, glancing over to your laptop to see the screen dark already. “Yeah, I was about to watch it when you called.”
Somehow, you could hear his smile forming on his lips. “You should watch it.”
“Yeah, I will,” you said, sighing and rolling your eyes.
There was silence for another few seconds. 
“What are you doing?” Jungkook asked, and you could tell he was genuinely curious. You blinked, having completely forgotten what you had been up to until he called. You looked at the ball of yarn sitting in your lap, your attempt at a scarf hanging between the two knitting needles. But you couldn’t tell him, it would ruin the surprise. 
And so, you returned the question instead. “What are you doing?”
“I asked you first.”
“I asked you second.”
Jungkook sighed. “You’re very fun to talk to sometimes, you know?”
You laughed, not missing the irony in his voice. “Thanks. You are too.”
“Just tell me,” he said, and you frowned at his poor attempt to get you to talk. 
“Why don’t you tell me first?”
He let out a small scoff, and you could picture his face perfectly. The way his tongue would be digging into his cheek and his eyes rolling back because God, you were frustrating sometimes! But there would be an undeniable smile on his lips. There always was. 
“Alright,” Jungkook said, and you raised your brows. “I’m outside.”
You frowned. “Where are you going? At this hour?”
“Why don’t you guess?” 
“Just tell me.”
He paused, hesitated. Somehow, you could hear his grin turn bigger.
“How about you look outside and see for yourself instead?”
Your heart sank in your chest, something strange taking hold of you. You moved without a thought, almost knocking over one of your pothos sitting on your window sill when you pulled the curtain aside. The glass was cool to touch, but you pressed your entire hand against it, just to feel something steady. Because right now, you felt the opposite of it, heart jumping to your throat and beating there like it was bound to fall out. Because there was no way that he was here right now! This wasn’t a cheesy romcom! But you also knew that he wouldn’t lie to you.
And he didn’t. 
There he was, standing on the sidewalk, in front of your building, phone pressed to his ear, head in his neck, mouth in a grin and waving up to you. 
You opened and closed your mouth several times, scoffing in the end and shaking your head.
“You’re so… stupid, Jeon.”
Jungkook laughed, “Well, that’s been established before.”
“You’re such a ridiculous stupid little man, Jeon!” you went on, pressing a hand to your forehead and squeezing your eyes closed for a moment. “What are you doing here?”
“Oh, is it a crime now to drop by your girlfriend’s home when you miss her?”
The words rolled off his tongue with a certain confidence and ease. Two things you rarely ever had, even less around Jungkook. It always seemed so very fragile and dangerous, to be so open and vulnerable. You couldn’t snap back, tell him how ridiculous he was because you had just seen each other two days ago at the Christmas party. Hell, you had been spending almost every day with each other—either on the phone or in person driving to Seo’s bakery to pick up your needed batch of cookies or watching Avatar until you both could recite every line. And yet here he was, telling you that he missed you, so much so that he needed to see you in the middle of the night, at 1:42.
Right then, it became blatantly obvious to you—that Jungkook and you had crudely blown the lines you had established beforehand, agreed to contractually, into absolute smithereens, that you two had made new ones, dangerous ones, ones that resembled an actual relationship, and that, even worse, you had not only never talked about it but gotten used to the new rules, comfortable.
And even with that realisation lingering in your mind with big glaring bright red flags hissed high above and every possible alarm blaring in the air, you couldn’t bring yourself to tell Jungkook that this was wrong, that he should go home. You should, it would spare your sanity. But your heart had only grown bigger and fonder of him. And it was horrible because you knew even more time with him, alone, in your own four walls, was the worst thing you could do. There would be nowhere for you to go, run off to. But you couldn’t send him home. Because really, you didn’t want to. Because it did excite you. That he was here. That he had gotten up, changed, and made his way to you. That the cold hadn’t even been enough to stop him.
“Now, open up. It’s freezing. My hands and feet are already blue,” he told you, adding a dramatic shiver to his words.
You paused, frowned, searched and didn’t see it anywhere. It clicked with you. You hadn’t heard the engine or turn signal during the entirety of your call. 
“Did you- did you walk here? Why didn’t you take your car?”
“Felt like it.”
“You’re so stupid, oh my God,” you groaned, rolling your eyes as you repeatedly pressed the buzzer to open the front door for him. “Never ever do that again. It’s freezing outside!”
Jungkook responded with a laugh. It echoed on the walls of your empty lobby, reverberating through the phone. “Alright, I won’t. I promise.”
“Also, shouldn’t you be writing that stupid paper about Newton or Einstein or whatever?”
“It’s not about either of them, but I still have a bit of time until the deadline,” he explained, and you heard him walk up the stairs. “Thanks for remembering though.”
You pressed your lips together. “What if I was sleeping?”
“But you aren’t.” He sounded so incredibly smug and proud. You could have punched him. “Also, I know you, cabbage. You’d rather die than go to bed at a reasonable time.”
And somehow, that admission embarrassed you. It did. Terribly. Because he did, he did know you oh so well. 
You left the front door ajar for him, waiting there with your hands folded in front of you, fingers picking on each other, as you listened to his steps grow closer and louder. His hand was the first thing you saw, reaching and touching the doorknob, and then it was suddenly just all of him. In front of you. He smiled at your sight, and you knew you looked more embarrassed and unsure than ever before. You were relieved you still hadn’t changed the lightbulb that had burned through all those months ago, allowing the dark to obscure you from him, a soft shadow across your face. 
Jungkook shrugged off his coat, hanging it on the hook behind the front door and revealing his maroon knit sweater and black pants to you. When he looked at you again, his gaze softened.
“Hi, cabbage.” His cheeks and nose were brutally red from the wind, but he seemed as happy as ever. “I made you something.”
You noticed the metal lunchbox in his hands only when he pushed it towards you, and when you took it, it was still warm. Like whatever he had prepared, he had packed up the minute it was done and came straight to you. 
“What did you make?” you asked, and you knew he wouldn’t tell you, waiting for you to open the lunchbox instead and discover for yourself. You peeled open the lid just a little, revealing a small corner when the smell hit you. Your eyes shot to Jungkook, and he looked both sheepish and proud. 
“You didn’t.”
A gasp, your features melting. He wrinkled his nose, turned his head to the side.
“I was gonna go get some from Seo’s Bakery, but they- did you know they’re on Christmas break?”
You nodded, eyes unable to take off of him, blabbering, “Yeah, of course. They always are. Every Christmas. Have always been.”
Jungkook made a gesture towards you, shrugging. “Well, so I thought- I don’t know. I’d make you some instead. You gotta fuel your addiction somehow, right?”
There was no denying how many sweet gestures Jungkook had made ever since you’d been doing this (whatever one might classify this as). The amount of flowers and cookies he’d showered you with. The amount of smiles and laughs he’d pulled from you. The amount of love he’d shown you, even if it wasn’t real. 
You put the lunchbox aside, needing to return the gesture at least once. Leaning over your couch, you grabbed the half-finished scarf you’d made for him. You wanted to show him, reciprocate some of the affection and love. But in your haste, you forgot the ball of yarn the scarf was connected to.
“Oh, fuck.”
Like a roll of paper, it unfurled, and though it would be annoying to roll it all up again, you shoved the scarf into Jungkook’s face, uncaring.
“It’s not finished- or particularly well done. But- I made that… for you,” you hesitated, a lump lodged in your throat. “I also just chose a random colour- if you don’t like red, I could definitely change it, you know. It’s not even done-”
He took it from your hands, silencing you. Your brows knit together as you watched him admire the intricate and detailed rows of red yarn. And then, he wrapped it around his neck even though the scarf was still attached to the ball of yarn and the knitting needles were poking into his neck. 
“Wait, no,” you laughed, already reaching to take it off. “You don’t have to wear it or anything- Like I said, it’s not even done. I still have to-”
Jungkook took hold of your hands. Your eyes met his. He smiled at you. 
“You’re so cute, cabbage,” he told you, his gaze so full and soft. And you melted right then and there, your face lit up like a fire. Melted even more so when Jungkook kissed you and pressed his forehead against yours. “I love it, cabbage. Thank you so much.”
“Really?” you said it softly, delicately, anxiously.
As if it was a proper way of responding, Jungkook took your hand and placed it on his chest. You could feel it then, under your palm and fingertips, through the fabric of his sweater, his heart. 
“Really.”
And you let yourself believe him a little.
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You don’t know how. It was blurry to you, all of it, but somehow, his head ended up in your lap with your fingers threading through his hair and your back pressed to the side of your bed. You both shared the batch of cookies while you finished a few more rows for the scarf before ultimately calling it, putting it to the side, promising him you’d finish it as soon as possible. Instead, a bottle of supermarket wine found its way into your hands, the glasses always filled with the red liquid. Neither of you said much. And really, there simply wasn’t a need to, the minutes ticking by as the night went on and on. An intimacy lay between you, an intimacy most would never know, an intimacy that could only come from the strange nature of your relationship. 
“What?” you said, almost laughing, sure you had to have misheard him.
“I’m serious. I really like it here,” Jungkook repeated. “I like your home, a lot.”
Your mouth opened and closed before you shook your head and laughed. “But why?”
To you, there wasn’t much to like about your home here. If anything there was more to dislike than like. It was too cramped, too small. The furniture was old and shabby and the lights didn’t even work properly. On bad days, it would get either unbearably freezing or hot in here. And on particularly bad days where your luck had run out, the water would run cold and the electricity cut out. There wasn’t much to love here, except for your big bed and pothos you had on your window sill.
“I feel like I get to see another side of you,” Jungkook told you, shrugging and wrinkling his nose. “You seem much more relaxed at home.”
You frowned. “Where else should I be relaxed if not at home?”
He rolled his eyes at your comment, shaking his head. “No, I just mean… you don’t seem on guard at home.”
“I’m on guard?”
There was a pause. He looked at you for a long time, eyes wandering across your entire face.
“Yeah, sometimes.” He wrinkled his forehead a little. “I think you used to be more on guard, or at least you were around me.” There was another pause, another beat, another moment of suspense. “Wouldn’t you say you’ve opened up to me more since you let me in here for the first time?”
The question stumped you. Because did everything really change then? You couldn’t say. To a certain degree, Jungkook was right. Things had drastically shifted between him and you. Before you would have never been in this position—on the floor together, in your home, his head in your lap and your hands combing through his hair as you shared cookies and wine. But before you would have talked about it, established rules and laws and all kinds of conditions, and gone through every possibility. Now though, the two of you had gotten awfully comfortable with just simply not.
“Why? Because I slept with you?” you quipped, knowing already even in your slightly tipsy state that it wasn’t that.
“You know that’s not what I mean,” he said, sighing. You wrinkled your nose and looked to the ceiling for a few moments, leaning your head back.
“Should I be on guard?”
“Around me?” Jungkook said, shaking his head. “No, never. I’m an honest boy.”
You laughed, even more so when you looked at him and he was grinning proudly into your face, standing by his cheesy words. “You make me want to kick you out.”
“Please don’t,” he said, offering you puppy eyes and snuggling even closer to you. “I wouldn’t know what to do if you did.”
He winced when you tugged on his hair, slightly away from you. “You’re annoying.”
Jungkook laughed, and you went back to silence for a while.
“Are you ever going to tell me what Joon and the others said to you that made you run into the bathroom the other day?”
It was probably the alcohol, all the time you had spent together, sitting there on the cold floor. Your mind wasn’t the clearest anymore, and neither was his. 
“They just told me how whipped you are for me. How deeply and madly you’re in love with me,” you snorted, teasingly inching closer to his face with each word before pulling away. 
He smiled a little, clearly expecting worse. “Really? They said that?”
“I know.” You took two big sips, downing more than half of what was in the glass, not wanting to lose that fuzzy feeling in your veins. “It’s funny, right?”
You snorted, knowing exactly what he was thinking—That was ridiculous! 
“But true.”
Jungkook didn’t hesitate. But he said it softly. So softly in fact you looked at him to check that you hadn’t made it up. When his mouth widened into a grin, you scoffed.
“Oh, shut up.”
“It’s true. I do. I am.”
It sounded so very ironic to your ears. You shook your head and scoffed. “Is that what you told Narae too?”
Her mention from your lips surprised Jungkook, his eyes growing a little wider. You were equally as taken aback. But it was true. Because you did think about it sometimes if he did and said the same things to Narae. If everything you experienced with him had been experienced before, just with someone else, someone with a perfect smile and perfect parents. 
“You don’t know me at all, Y/N,” Jungkook mumbled, and it sounded accusatory. 
Your heart dropped in your chest. It felt like you were shot, the hurt instant. You looked away, teeth sinking into your tongue. But he wasn’t off. You didn’t know Jungkook very well. Why should you though? Not like he and you were anything meaningful, like you shared anything truthful. And it was so very embarrassing, so very embarrassing that you felt hurt at all. 
Jungkook seemed to surprise himself with his words, seemed not to mean it like that because he was scrambling the very next second, lifting up from your lap and pleading for you to look his way. 
“No, no, no, I-I don’t mean it like that,” he said, voice a little higher than usual, reaching for your hand, squeezing. There’s a desperation in his voice, a panic swinging with it that he might have just ruined a perfectly fine conversation. 
“You just seem to,” he hesitated, “have this very weird and funny idea of me in your head. I-I never told Narae anything like that. You’re the first one.”
You looked at him. There was a deep crease between his brows, and he went on when you wouldn’t say anything.
“You’re the only one who’s ever made me do these weird things, you know?” He added a chuckle, but there wasn’t much humour to it at all. You tried to smile for him, feeling this conversation was taking a rather serious turn. It was in dire need of some lightness.
“I make you do weird things?” you mumbled, slightly shaking your head, looking away. “I don’t think I’m capable of that.”
“Do you really think I’d try to bake cookies for anyone else in the middle of the night? Or walk to their home at night, not knowing if they’re even actually home because I wanted to surprise them? Or send every Avatar video essay I come across? Do you really think I’d want to dress up with anyone else in a couple’s costume than you?”
You couldn’t find the right response then, your lips pressing together. It was difficult for you to say whether or not you believed him. Because you didn’t think you did, not genuinely at least, not deep down. You never really did with Jungkook, believe him. Because you never let yourself go there, not fully. In the back of your mind, you knew that this was ending, only started because of a stupid little meaningless bet, that your relationship whichever form it had morphed to had no real genuine basis. 
“Do you really think I’d tell anyone else I-”
You shoved a cookie into his mouth, silencing him. Your gaze turned sideways, it was easier to speak for you then. If you looked at Jungkook, you wouldn’t be able to say anything.
“Alright, I got it, Jeon. Now, eat your cookie and shut up,” you chuckled, and your words were accompanied with a lightness, a lightness you forced out of yourself and hoped was enough to quiet Jungkook. He stared at you, eyes big, before ultimately letting out a chuckle himself when he saw you smile at him. He held onto your hand, squeezing it. 
“If I wasn’t too lazy to reach for my phone, I’d take a picture of you right now,” he told you with his mouth stuffed, matching your tone, keeping it light and fun. It was amazing, how both of you simply moved on. He broke off a piece and held it to your mouth. You took it from his fingertips, letting him feed you. The sugar melted on your tongue. “Really thought you had learned your lesson, you know? That you were less judgemental now.”
“Shut up,” you mumbled, still chewing. He laughed when you rolled your eyes.
For a few minutes, neither of you said anything. It seemed like the moment had resolved as easily as it had come up. You took a few sips from your glass, filling it back up when you emptied it, and Jungkook shared the last bite of the cookie with you, holding the piece in front of your lips and allowing you to pull it from his fingertips. And when he kept his fingers in front of your mouth, you pressed a quick kiss to them. He smiled and took your hand into his again, fingers interlacing. 
“You’re so weird,” you said, the corners of your eyes creasing when you smiled. 
Jungkook returned it, opened his mouth to retort something clever and funny, but it was like the fire died in him, as if he simply couldn’t let the moment from before slide as easily as you both had hoped and tried for it to. He reached for it again, pulling it back on shore. His face changed, morphed into something else. You couldn’t pinpoint his exact expression, but your stomach churned. For a second, you felt this brief need to cry.
“You—” He hesitated, afraid to ask because he knew you didn’t want him to and he shouldn’t but he needed to ask. “—believe me, right?”
And somehow that question carried the entire weight of the earth because you suffocated underneath it in an instant. There seemed to be so much. It didn’t make sense, there shouldn’t be any deeper meaning behind his question. After all, he and you weren’t anything! And yet, he looked at you as if you were. When you wouldn’t respond, looked away instead, Jungkook let out a chuckle. But it sounded empty and dry, and you knew you had hurt him. 
“I’m sorry.”
There was a sadness to your words, and he noticed. It was the same kind of sadness he heard colouring your words when you had told him about Jaehwa and the heartbreak that had come with him. And he knew then not to take it to heart, your inability to believe him.
“I’m sorry. I want to- It’s just-”
There was desperation, hurt, frustration. You buried your face into your hands, eyes closing. It’s just hard sometimes! I don’t really believe anyone really, you wanted to say. But you didn’t. The admission felt too much, too hard to bring over your lips, too honest. You couldn’t do it. 
Jungkook didn’t say anything, and you waited for him to take all of his things and go. The front door would click shut and with that, you would have ruined it, all of it, the past few months. But it didn’t happen. You didn’t hear his steps moving away from you, or the front door opening. Instead, Jungkook cupped your face with both of his hands, a smile on his lips when you finally looked at him.
“It’s fine.”
And you wished it felt like that to you. Fine. But you hadn’t felt quite fine for a while now. Not since your heart began filling up every time you looked at him. 
“Is it?”
His gaze softened, melted like the first layer of snow in the early morning hours. His thumb brushed over your cheekbones, and his touch was so very warm and comforting. You closed your eyes, and he pressed his lips to yours. It did feel fine right then when he kissed you. He held you firmly and strongly, he wasn’t going to let go. Even if you might not believe him and had your doubts. Your hands curled around his shirt, and you were the one to pull it off of him. Because you needed that right now, something simple. 
“Are you sure-”
You silenced him, removing your shirt. He looked at you for another second before kissing you again. You moved up from the floor to your bed. His lips pressed to every inch of your skin, slow and delicately. Your breathing flattened, soft whimpers emerging from your throat when his hands wandered, brushed the inside of your thighs. Jungkook was everywhere, holding and gripping and squeezing and kissing. It made your chest swell, and for a second, you thought you needed a second heart. Another one to hold it all in. All the feelings brewing inside you, all of your feelings for him. It was too much to bear for your one singular heart.
He held you, stayed close. He never allowed any space between him and you, never allowed you to think he’d get up and leave. And you never let him slip away from you, not tonight, caging him in. One day he would, you were certain of it, convinced. The contract was running up with each day, but right now, he was here, closer than ever.
And in the high of it all, your breaths mixed with his, the air smelling of sweat and lust, your faces flushed and bodies sticky, there were words lying between him and you. In fact, there was so much, it felt heavy. You hoped, in vain, he would let it slide, quietly.
“Y/N, I-”
Jungkook stopped when you shook your head, pleading. You knew the ending of his sentence, he had told you it many times before. And right now, the thought of hearing it, hurt you more than it ever had before. 
“I-”
But he stopped again when you closed your eyes and pressed your lips to his in response, hands cupping his face. He hesitated at first before kissing you back, hoping you’d understand either way. That he wanted this. That he wanted you. You didn’t say it, but Jungkook knew not to cross that line, not right now. As if him not saying it would prevent the inevitable heartbreak you’d be going through in just a few weeks, would change anything. As if you didn’t already love him more than you could comprehend. As if loving him didn’t hurt you.
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→ thanks for reading !! if you have any thoughts, id love to hear it!
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