#and i get to buy them and its like not even my money like sure i dont get to keep (all of) them but im such a girl who likes to curate

[bloodymiso]

★ dude, its just groceries — various x gn reader

how do they buy groceries? do they go to the convenience store every weekend and buy in small batches? or do they go to a big grocery like every 5 months and hoard?

notes: this has been in my drafts for a while lmao | mentions of food(duh), mention of a doctor’s appointment, one or two swears

— in small batches

convenience store lunches, little trips every saturday, small fridge in a small apartment—that was their life. coming home after a long day of work, popping by the tiny store outside your home to grab a sandwich or two and boom! dinner was that easy. living with a little store outside their home was literal heaven.

“awh shucks, we’re out of pudding..” they pout as they turn to you on the bed, upside down and legs on the headboard.

“do we even have anything for dinner?” you ask, turning your head to them as they shook their head. you both pause, a knowing look evident on both of your faces.

“convenience store dinner! last one there pays!” you say as both of you shot up, racing to get to the door as you fought to open it. they sneaked under your arms and through the door , once you got out, they were halfway to the elevator. (or to the store.)

“you little—augh!”

VENTI, ga ming, kazuha, kaveh, GOROU, hu tao, & heizou

— lmao what’s groceries?

uh..doing their own groceries? hell no! they usually just order online. if they’re rich enough, maybe their assistants will do it for them. either way, you have never seen this brat even hold a shopping bag.

“what the..oh my god we’re out of rice!” you said in shock, gawking at the empty cabinet in your kitchen you often held for rice.

“oh really?” they acknowledged before quickly calling someone on their phone. “hey man, could you get us some rice? we’re out lol.”

like..bitch what?

CHILDE, scaramouche, DILUC, furina, navia, AYATO & NINGGUANG

— they hoard

“hey, let’s go to the grocery.” and you end up coming home with 6 bags chock-full of food and supplies to last you pretty much half a year. they were always ready for something bad to happen, an apocalypse, or maybe a shortage in supplies and sure, that was a good thing, but not when they were so strict about it..

wanna get spinach for some lasagna? nope, but we have kale in the fridge! some spices for curry? nope, but we have pepper! it was frustrating, really.

eventually they gave up and joined you on small grocery trips here and there. they had to admit, it was nice only carrying one or two bags home.

“see? now whenever you’re craving something i can just make it.” “don’t mention my cravings.”

WRIOTHESLEY, arlecchino, arataki itto (hear me out), cyno & EULA

— in scheduled visits

“can we go to the grocery today?” you ask, bored out of your mind as you placed down your phone. “we aren’t scheduled for a visit till friday though..” they say, as if replying to a question about a doctor’s appointment.

you didn’t know if it was because of their almost insane sense of orderliness, or because it was how they went for groceries with their parents when they were younger, but god did they stick to their schedule. it was a good way to make sure you wouldn’t use too much money in a week but sometimes, boredom takes the best of both of you.

“fuck it let’s go to the grocery.” they say, standing up from their chair as you stopped tapping your finger on their desk. the shock on your face made it seem like you just figured out the answer to the bonus question on a math exam, but you shrugged it off and reluctantly joined.

ALHAITHAM, GANYU, keqing, kuki shinobu, and.. yeah

[lullabyes22-blog]

Snippet - Forward, but Never Forget/XOXO

Zaunite girls are forever Silco's favorite types ♥

Forward but Never Forget/XOXO

Snippet:

His first order of business was a visit to the drygoods store.  The proprietress was young. That's to say: younger than him. Thirty-six or seven, if Silco was a betting man, which he was, because the odds never failed him when it came to a woman's age. It's how he divvied up his tarts: the fresh, the seasoned, and the salted.

The salted could be had for a song. The seasoned, for a good deal. But the fresh always cost more than a man's dignity ought to permit.

He'd gotten damn sick of tarts.

The bint behind the counter was no tart. No beauty, either—not in the usual sense. Her dark hair was pulled back in a severe braid from a face so angular, it'd cut glass. The eyes, close-set and the color of wet mud, were rimmed by lavender circles. A smattering of freckles, like a dusting of soot, coated the crests of her cheekbones.

But her body was a fine one beneath her patched wool skirt and shapeless jumper—rippling with the lean muscle that attested to a lifetime of hard labor.

Silco would bet folding money she was of old Oshra Va’Zaun stock. They were a breed apart. Most had dwelt on the edge of the Deadlands for decades. Families after families dedicating their days to backbreaking labor, only to end them at the bottom of a whiskey bottle and a coffin-shaped hole in the ground.

Most still had a touch of the ancient magic about them: a fire in the eyes, and a steel in the soul.

These folk, Silco knew.

The bell jingled as he strolled inside. She looked up from the ledger she'd been scratching away at. A frown dug between her brows.

Silco knew he must look a sight: dressed in dust and fit for gravedirt. And the smell—that pungent odor of wild beast and wild man—was enough to knock a Piltovan right on his pampered arse. Medarda would've summoned her guard, or set the hounds on him. Sevika would've taken one glance and drawn steel. Even Vander, his brother-in-arms, would've backed the hell away.

Only Jinx—sweet Jinx—would've kissed him, right on the scarred ruin of his cheek, and whispered: Silly, you stink. 

I love you, anyway.

"Help ya?" The proprietress said, in that drawl endemic to the Deadlands. "If yer looking for the bathhouse, it's a mile yonder."

Silco let the grime of street life soil his own tongue. He, who'd once inhabited a glossy world where the smallest slip in intonation served to reveal the most intimate secrets, now spoke with the accent of the slums.

No sense broadcasting his identity. Not before he'd gathered the lay of the land—or had a decent wash. 

"No bath," he said, in a low rasping timbre. "Lookin' to trade."

"Got no need for vermin. I don't care if they're skinned."

"Not fond of rats, I take it." 

"Not fond of vermin in general. Or what they drag in. If it's not plagues, it's fleas."

"I'm clean."

Her nostrils twitched. "You sure as hell don't smell it."

Silco tricked out a slow smile: his calling card. It'd greased his way into plenty of deals. Plenty of beds, too: usually of the saltier variety. Not this bint, though. Her face remained a stone-cold blank.

A Trencher, through and through.

"I'd buy a bar of soap," he offered, "if you'll buy a boar."

"Boar?" Her eyes cut to the bulging sack on his shoulder. "You got yourself a boar?"

"Big one. Fresh kill."

"Fresh?"

"An hour past. Still warm."

"Let me see."

"Will I get my soap?"

"One bar. And you'll get to watch."

"Watch what?"

"Me inspect the boar." No flirtation; just plain fact. "I don't have patience for charlatans."

"That makes two of us, sweetheart."

"Call me that again, and you'll get to watch me bury you."

Silco bit down a smile. She had a tongue sharp enough to slice. And Silco was a man who appreciated a sharp knife. Especially when it was pointed in the right direction.

He unslung the sack, and dumped the barrow on the counter. Its tusks gleamed a dirty ivory. The hide, mottled gray and white, was thick as a Shuriman rug. The proprietress, impressed despite her best efforts, gave a low whistle.

Demonstrating a cool eye and a meticulous manner, she probed the flesh: measuring the breadth of the shoulders, palpating the belly, checking the legs for signs of disease.

"You're a hunter," Silco noted.

She didn't bother looking up. "Worked the big game with my old man. Now, I stick to small."

"What happened?"

"To my old man? Same thing that happens to everybody. He died."

"I meant to your big game."

"Lost the taste. Lost my family's hunting license, too."

"How?"

"The Council revoked it. Right around the time the riots started after Bloody Sunday. No more Fissurefolk allowed to bear arms. 'Specially not within a hundred miles of the Bridge." She gave a flat scoff. "A hundred miles. As if they'd let the likes of us even sneeze its way."

"Rules is rules," Silco said, with a mocking lilt.

She didn't smile. But the upward flick of her eyes was a near thing. "You sound like a Bonscuttler."

"Born and bred in the Pump Station. You?"

"Born, at least. Raised in the Deadlands. My folk up and left when the Enforcers burned down the gunsmiths' shops. Maybe they reckoned they'd have better luck diggin' their own graves than the ones they were livin' in." She gave a brusque shrug: the quintessential Trencher, unburdened by nostalgia. "Maybe they did."

"Did the mines take 'em?"

"Took my Ma. The old man, he stuck around. Worked with the unions. 'Til he crossed the wrong man." Her mouth—a lip-bitten red beesting—pinched. "Bastard made an example of him."

"A chem-baron, I'm guessing."

Again, the eyes flickered his way. "You do a lot of guesswork in your line of work?"

"My fair share. Shall I guess what the boar's worth?"

"We already know it's prime. Top cog."

"I'm in the mood for top, all right."

The glint became a hidden twinkle. When he'd first walked in, she'd taken one gander and pegged him for a pitiable vagrant—and she wasn't the type to dole out pity for free. Now she was seeing past his sordid shell into something she could work with. Something that could turn her a profit.

Question was: how deep did this stranger's bucket of coin run?

"It's a fine piece," she said. "Top-notch. I'd give you ninety silvers for it. Maybe ninety-five."

"Not on your life."

"Not on yours, neither." The twinkle hardened. "Hundred. That's my last offer."

"Thirty gold Hexes. Or we're both wasting our time."

"Thought you wanted soap?"

"I'll take it off the thirty."

"You'll take exactly what I say. Which is a hundred for the boar. And two bars of soap. The finest grade."

"Finest grade of what? Lye and vole-fat? You'll be sorry if I drop dead."

"You'll be sorrier if you try to cheat me."

"Thirty, or nowt."

"Twenty-five."

"You're one hardhearted Hannah."

"You got no idea."

"Twenty. And you throw in a change of clothes, smokes, and jerky."

"I ain't hagglin' with the likes of you."

"Sweetheart, we've already started."

And they had.

[coquelicoq]

crying laughing @ this edition of le fantôme de l'opéra that my dad got me for christmas it's just. i don't know how to describe it. every page is a scan of a page of the 1926 edition, with like 1-2 inches of margin around it??? and the letters are so small and the scan is not of very great quality so it's kind of hard to see the words?? interspersed with scans of pictures but some of them are upside down??? there's one page where the scan didn't really work in the upper left corner so it's just totally black???

the back of the book says

Le présent ouvrage s'inscrit dans une politique de conservation patrimoniale des ouvrages de la littérature Française mise en place avec la BNF. HACHETTE LIVRE et la BNF proposent ainsi un catalogue de titres indisponibles, la BNF ayant numérisé ces œuvres et HACHETTE LIVRE les imprimant à la demande.

(my rough translation: This publication is in line with a policy instituted in conjunction with the BNF (National Library of France) for the conservation of important works of French literature. In service of this goal, Hachette Livre and the BNF are offering a catalogue of unavailable titles digitized by the BNF which Hachette Livre will print upon request.)

so like this is on purpose but i have so many questions. first of all why the margins. okay i guess that is my most important question. why not just make the book correspond to the size of the pages in the original? or, if the size of the book is fixed, you could at least size up the images to use as much of that wasted space as possible, no?

i want to say how ridiculous this is and how there's no market for it but there clearly is one because i asked my dad to get it for me! i'm the market!! i told him to buy this edition because it was the only french-language print edition i could find to buy in the us for less than $50 (outside of amazon because fuck amazon). but like, why is that the case? the full text of this book, in plain text which could easily and legibly be printed, is available for free on the internet. why isn't there some publisher who's just printing that out and binding it? seems easier to do than printing scans. not to mention a lot easier to read!!

(to see what i'm talking about, go to the hachette BNF webpage for this book and click on feuilleter to download a sample of the pages in PDF)

[brightokyolights]

Bro no joke, forgetting that not everyone hates capitalism and then having to try have a reasonable conversation with someone about buying things... *eye twitch*

[nomaishuttle]

its also like . ok sry im going on bc im tired and ive upset myself lol but its like. to have somebody who knows i grew up in poverty call me greedy and selfish bc he pressured me into moving up here when i didnt have the money so i Had to rely on him financially. and then i couldnt pay him back while i was literally unemployed. to have him call me greedy and selfish and entitled and lazy was. insanely upsetting

[kawaiianimeredhead]

I've been in such an off and on garbage mood lately and I've been especially annoyed because it makes me want some retail therapy but that is not that practical or helpful

So I've been excitedly looking at the dollar general app all freaking week to plan out a trip with coupons and shit so I can go today and now it's finally here and I am so excited to get some fucking laundry detergent lmao

[loverboybitch]

two favourite things i saw while picking today : ) really enjoying buying for a store its a lot of fun.//.

[gaysindistress]

Things that I feel like would happen when you’re in a relationship with Simon Riley.

Simon Riley masterlist

1. First off he hates the word ‘boyfriend’.

Maybe it’s because he’s in his mid thirties or something but he can’t stand being called your boyfriend. He’s more than that but also not at the same time. You live together, have access to each other’s bank accounts (which is only because he hates it when you try to fight him about him giving you money), and you’re each others emergency contact. He thinks of himself as your husband. The man wears a silicone ring when he’s home and a necklace with the ring that’s totally not a wedding band when he’s working. Price has seen the chain once or twice and smirks, shooting him a knowing look but never says a word.

Simon cannot stand it when people get nosy and want to know what your relationship status is. You’re together and that’s all that matters. No one needs to know that you’re the beneficiary of his will and life insurance policy or that he’s put you on all of his accounts. No one needs to know that he buys you anything you want but has only ever bought you two rings; a thin gold band with a flower engraved on it and its twin a matching emerald ring. No one needs to know that when he gifted them to you, there were tears and promises of safety, love, and happiness whispered against feverish skin. No one needs to know that he has your name woven into his chest tattoo.

No one needs to know any of that because your relationship is between him and you only.

2. You are not some submissive little house wife. You are a strong independent woman and he prefers it that way.

I know this one goes against what most people say but hear me out on this. Simon has been independent since birth practically. He’s only had himself to count on for years. Even in the military, he’s only been able to rely himself. Sure the others watch out for him but if it came down to it, he’s the only one who’s going to get himself out alive.

The thought of someone else relying on him in that way is terrifying. He can’t even fathom what it would be like to look at another person and fully trust them in that way. Half the time he feels like he can’t even be trusted to take care of himself let alone another human. In theory a sweet docile housewife is great with the meals and clean house but not for him. He needs to know that you can hold your own. He needs to know that you can be independent and carry on without him if something happened while he was working. He needs to know that you will be okay if he doesn’t come back.

You have to be okay without him no matter how much it pains him to think about it.

Like I said before, he’s made you the beneficiary of everything so he knows you’ll be set financially but that’s not enough. He’s made Price promise to keep an eye out for you. He’s made you promise to let Price do that and you agreed because it’s Simon who’s asking but you’d tell anyone else to fuck off.

In addition to all of that, he’s installed the best security system the government has to offer in your house. You have a very expensive and large safe in your shared closet that he’s instructed you to only open if you feel unsafe. While you might not like it, you agree to go shooting with him so he can sleep at night knowing that you could protect yourself if he’s not home. He’s gone as far as to make sure you have all of the licenses and certificates that are needed to legally own firearms in the UK.

He’s not leaving any opportunity for you to be vulnerable or have your ‘safety checks’, as he calls them, taken away.

3. Simon Riley is a godless man…until he meets you.

Now this is entirely my own headcannon with no evidence to support it so bear with me.

Simon had a shitty childhood where his mom would pray to a god who never listened and his dad would shout verses at him when he was drunk. God was a mythical figure that he was told stories off with nothing to show for it. He did believe at one point but then his dad never got better, his mom wore bruises of every shade, and his brother found comfort in drugs.

He found himself praying when he was being tortured by the Mexican cartel. Between the flashbacks of his abusive past, he prayed to a god who had failed him so many times before to help him. He prayed again as he dug himself out of that Texas grave with the major’s jaw bone. He wailed his prayers when he found his family executed after Sparks tried to kill him.

After that he deemed himself a Godless man. Years of praying had passed with nothing. This god had decided that Simon was not worthy of a miracle so why would he continue to worship him?

That was until he met you. He finds himself praying before every mission, every time he has to leave you, every time he’s on his way home, and just about any other time he thinks of you. He doesn’t know what exactly he’s praying for other than for you to be there when he gets back.

He whispers his prayers to an absent god against your skin as he worships your body, soul, and heart. He promises to be devoted to you until his last breath and vows to find you again in whatever afterlife awaits you. He pledges to find solace in you and only you when his haunting nightmares return. He makes an oath to your heart that it will never weather another storm alone again for his will take whatever beating that comes your way. He shows you that he will love you in the same manner as a Hozier song; putting you above all else because you have become his religion, his faith, his beliefs, his life.

You have become all that he is and he thanks the god he once believed in for you. He prays again but to you, his heart, his love, and his beacon through the enteral storm of life.

[bitternanami]

something i think is really interesting about dungeon meshi is the cast's respective views on food as the story progresses. the way many adventurers get through the dungeon is to eat when they Must, but mostly rely on healing magic to keep going when they're tired or beaten down. death is something you can buy your way out of, here.

having these lower stakes when it comes to running yourself too hard has made a lot of people in this setting kind of devalue food and what it does for you.

im not all the way through the manga yet, but so far i really like how it goes about debunking that mindset.

long post under the cut, cw explicit discussion of disordered eating. textual depiction of unhealthy methods of dealing with it. please be cautious!

it seems like to most folks, food is either a decadent luxury, like when the governor offers mr tance a feast as a show of power and wealth, (although he is the only one who actually eats in that scene as he talks about his ambitions);

[id: the governor and mr. tance talk politics and hierarchies, while the governor eats from a bowl. mr. tance's meal is not visible behind a speech bubble.

"so you believe the sorceror is an elf?" he asks.

"i can't say with absolute certainty," mr. tance replies, "but the spells are not ones dwarves and humans typically use." /end id]

like the painted-royal feasts laios tries to partake in that never actually nourish him...

[id: laios, fresh out of the living painting feast, surprisedly holding his grumbling stomach /end id]

or, to the working class, it's pretty much exclusively fuel. i'm thinking about the scene where kabru's party, ostensibly intended to be our view into how adventuring Typically goes for most people, is shown preparing to go to the dungeon by like. walking up to someone and ordering 'a weeks' worth of rations.' purely functional.

[id: kabru enters a store, and the merchant says "welcome!"

kabru says "i need a week's worth of rations for six, and two days' worth of water."

"sure thing." the merchant then reaches behind him and grabs a large cube-shaped package, wrapped in nondescript cloth and tied in place. it thumps onto the counter in front of them both. /end id]

when kabru hands mickbell his food for the trip, he complains about how heavy it is on his back. it's a necessary liability.

we also see chilchuck, in an early chapter where there isn't much food to go around, grumbling about how he used to be better at not noticing when he was hungry. he's frustrated that he's more attuned to his bodily needs, now that he's starting to fill them with regularity.

[id: chilchuck, the only one awake, sits in his bedroll and glares at the timekeeping-candle burning down in front of him while he listens to his stomach growl. moving to find his canteen and fill himself with water instead, he thinks to himself, "my stomach has gotten weaker. i used to be able to go two days without food." /end id]

(like im not even gonna lie this is a big mood. the healing process is really really annoying)

even laios, early on, working out the logistics of going back for falin, considers his expenses and ultimately the thing he decides to save money on is their food supply. like, even the guy most invested in eating as an experience kind of just assumes he will Figure It Out. its what hes eating, not how hes eating it that matters to him at that point.

[id: marcille looks down at the ingredients they've gathered, the walking mushroom and the scorpion in an unappetizing heap on the ground, and asks laios "so how exactly do we eat them?"

he responds "let's just cook them, like normal." /end id]

but its here that senshi introduces the idea of food as art and as healing. its exciting and its fascinating for laios, getting to taste the creatures hes been reading about and fighting, but i dont think it would ever really help him feel full if not for this.

[id: three panels of laios tasting the scorpion hotpot, looking stunned, and then excitedly telling senshi "delicious!"

senshi matches his energy, asking "isn't it? isn't it?" /end id]

pictured: guy who had resigned himself to kind of just doing his best rediscovers the joy in something tasting really fucking good

what they did last time isnt going to work. falin is gone, and constantly anesthetizing their pain and healing through their weakness is no longer a realistic option for the party. in order to make it through they must all relearn how to eat well, one by one and as a group over and over again, because its either that or nothing.

one of my favorite depictions of this idea thus far is when marcille is seriously low on health and mana, and both of these problems are mitigated by taking care of herself, and trying to get iron and protein

[id: marcille, looking sickly, wakes to laios saying, "marcille, marcille, can you sit up? we've got something nice for you."

she watches senshi grill pieces of kelpie liver on a low fire, while laios ties a bib around her neck. /end id]

and drinking a bunch of dead water spirits. she gets the idea, she's supposed to get in nutrients and it'll help her feel better, but in aiming for the quick, inefficient fix, namely chugging that shit down like she heard it was good to Stay Hydrated and decided that would be the thing that fixes her,

[id: marcille throws back a cup of boiled undine-water, her face red. laios asks, "do you really need to drink it that fast?"

she gasps out "...the magical energy stored in nature spirits is actually quite hard to absorb. even if you drink a lot, the majority of it is excreted without being absorbed," and takes another drink. "that's why i need to drink as much as i can."

laios says weakly "you'll get water poisoning," but marcille only stops when senshi puts a hand on her shoulder and says,

"it's easier to absorb nutrients if ye digest them with food. that's a fundamental rule of nutrition."

marcille says, "senshi..." contemplative

and he holds out a bowl of tentuclus and a thumbs up. "let's get cooking!" /end id]

she doesn't immediately realize the answer is that she needs more than that. she's been working hard. she needs care, and she needs nourishment.

once she gets that, though, she makes her boiled water into a stew, and she works to make that stew as good as she can, and everyone can have some.

because in dungeon meshi, to feed yourself or allow yourself to be fed is treated as performing a kindness for yourself. food is what propels you, but there is also an art and a joy inherent to the process of making it; in the way you feel when you've had enough to eat.

[id: senshi watches as chilchuck and marcille eat and excitedly hash out plans.

"i've got a good feeling about this! maybe it'll work out!" chilchuck says

marcille responds, "well it's easier to feel optimistic on a full stomach!"

senshi smiles, proud. /end id]

^^^ i want to put this image on my wall

when you're working through disordered eating habits, you really do have to keep learning this shit. (in my experience, learning about cooking is one of the best ways to do so.)

i'll have to see if my thesis holds up as i continue, but i think one of the reasons the portrayal here resonates with me so hard is that ryoko kui puts most of her characters at eye level with me on this. they're all working at it, too. the text and i are both commiserating, and encouraging each other, 'have some more, you'll feel better.'

[rafeandonlyrafe]

dealer

words: 2.5k

warnings: 18+ only!, smut, female receiving oral, mentions of p in v sex, kind of shy/anxious!reader, dealer!rafe, no drug taking is actually done but mentions of weed and coke

“tina, i love you, i really do, but im not buying weed for you.” 

“its not buying! ill give you the money, just go pick it up from my dealer for me.” tina hands you a wad of cash, forcing it into your grip.

“what if i get caught with it?” you question, nerves already flooding your system. you aren't a complete straight edge, you're willing to drink occasionally and you've been to a couple parties before, but illegal drugs are way out of your comfort zone.

“relax, it's just weed! it's not like im having you buy coke from him or something.” tina laughs, and you wonder how this wild child became your best friend. 

“he sells coke?” you squeal.

“listen, babe.” tina places her hands on your shoulders. “you need to live a little. get out of your comfort zone. im not saying you need to take drugs, but you can at least go and pick some up for me.”

“fine.” you sigh, pocketing the cash.

“great!” seeing tinas wide smile, gracing her gorgeous face, is the only reason why you actually agreed to this. “he already knows im sending you to pick it up. he says it has to be today and ive got work.”

“you knew id agree?” you question. 

“of course.” tina shrugs. “you're my best friend.”

“alright, alright. good point.”

--

your eyes are wide as you approach the imposing house. you hesitate on the front porch, but ultimately force your hand to raise and knock on the door.

it opens a few moments later, and you’re not sure why you're surprised at the sight of the dealer. he’s put together and handsome, whereas you expected him to look disheveled and strung out, but you suppose that's more of the user than the seller.

“y/n?” he questions, looking you up and down. you hesitate to respond, your name sounding so smooth and silky coming from him. “picking up for tina?” “oh!” you nod quickly. “yes, yeah. sorry.”

the dealer smiles at you, clearly amused by your nerves. “i’m rafe. come in.”

you follow rafe into the house, shutting the door behind you. he leads you into the living room, gesturing for you to sit on the couch. you slide onto the soft material, not sure if this is normal or not, you’ve never bought any sort of drugs before.

“can i get you something to drink?” rafe asks.

“uh-” you clear your throat, looking around the living room to avoid making eye contact. “water is fine.”

rafe nods, leaving you alone in the spacious room before returning with two glasses of water, one with ice and one without.

“didn’t know if you wanted ice or not, take whichever.” rafe sets them both in front of you on the coffee table, and you reach for the one without ice, taking a polite sip. you’re too nervous to really drink it, but want to be courteous. you’re not sure if rafe is dangerous, he doesn’t really look it, but he must be by nature of being a drug dealer.

“let me grab you tinas weed.” rafe says, exiting the room again to return a moment later, with a baggie of weed in his hand. he sets it on the table, taking a seat on the arm chair across from the couch, facing you.

“tina gave me $50.” you say, pulling the cash out of your pocket and setting it on the table next to the weed. “is that good?”

“yes its good.” rafe laughs, not even bothering to grab the cash off the table and count it.

“i-i don’t smoke.” you say, unsure why you felt the need to make the confession. “or do any drugs. so i don’t really… know anything.”

“would you like me to teach you?” rafe asks, making your eyes widen as you shake your head no.

“i just wanted to explain why i’m so nervous.” you say, hands wringing together on your lap, wanting to escape the house.

“its cute.” rafe simply says with a shrug.

“whats cute?” you hum, confused.

“how nervous you are. you’re adorable.” rafe explains, making you blush and stare at the floor, muttering a quiet thank you.

“i should go now.” you say, needing to get out of under his intense gaze.

“let me walk you to the door.” rafe says, standing. you grab the bag off the table, putting it into your back pocket, regretting not bringing some sort of purse or bag to carry it in.

you stand up, tracing your steps through the complex house back to the front door. “thank you.” you say when rafe opens the door for you.

“no problem, y/n.” rafe practically purs your name out. “tell tina to call me when she gets home from work.”

“did i do something wrong?” you question, suddenly worried until rafe lets out a soft laugh. 

“not at all, baby.” you want to jump at the pet name, but simply nod and head out the door, not glancing back even though you can feel rafes intense eyes on you.

--

“rafe wants you to come to the party this weekend.” tina says.

“no.” you shake your head. “no way.” “come on.” tina flops onto your bed, batting her eyelashes at you. “he said he’d give me my weed for free if i get you to come.” “tina, no! he’s… he’s too intense.” “oh my god.” tinas jaw drops open. “did he flirt with you?” “i… i think so? he called me cute and-” you can’t even finish your sentence as tina screeches. “oh my god!! y/n you have to date him, he’s like the biggest catch on the island!”

“he is a drug dealer, tina! i’ve never even smoked weed and he fucking sells coke.” you whisper the last bit.

“he doesn’t like his girls to do drugs anyways.” tina shrugs. “it’s been like a year since he dated anyone though, and i’ve genuinely heard he’s a really good boyfriend. you remember lily? she was so sad they had to break up, said she only did because her family was moving to california.”

“how good of a boyfriend can a drug dealer be?” you question, not sure how it would be to be mixed up in that world, even if rafe was clearly small time, selling only to his peers on the island.

“think about it.” tina says. “he has a ton of cash, can buy you whatever you want, can get me free weed.” “what if i don’t want to fuel your addiction?” you question, but a smile plays on your lips. tina only smokes every once in a while, and she is by no means addicted, otherwise you wouldn’t agree to have bought the drug for her.

“please come to the party.” tina says, completely switching the subject. “for me.” she pouts, causing you to groan and lean your head back against the pillow while tina thanks you, knowing that means you’ve conceded to her.

--

“y/n.” the voice that you would recognize anywhere purrs into your ear. you whip around, coming face to face with rafe. “i’m glad you could make it.”

“i came because tina asked me to.” you say honestly. 

“ill make sure to get her her weed for free then.” rafe says with a nod, keeping true to his word.

“why did you want me to come?” you question.

“is it not obvious?” rafe raises his eyebrows. “i like you.”

“oh.” you blush, dropping your gaze down. “um… thanks. i like you too.” you know it's in a different way than rafe was implying, but honestly don't know what to say in response.

“yeah?” he questions, a smile playing on his face, completely ignore the guy who you assume must be his friend as he walks by and slaps rafe on the shoulder in greeting. “you like me the same way i like you?”

“it depends i guess…” you're truly trying to flirt back at this point, hoping your nerves don't give your voice a quiver. “how do you like me?”

“well.” rafe smirks, his eyes slowly sinking down your front, looking over your party outfit, a tight dress that tina insisted that you wear, borrowed of course out of her closet. “i want to get to know you better. take you out on a date. show you a good time. kiss you.” rafe leans in, teasingly close until you're able to feel his breath over your mouth. “and if you'd let me, take you up to my room. show you a good time.”

“oh.” you blush, cheeks surely flaring red. you have to clench your thighs together slightly, and it certainly doesn't go unnoticed by rafe. “i guess you could take me out on a date.”

“perfect.” he smiles, another grin that makes you want to melt into a puddle on the floor. he glances towards the door as a new man walks in, looking out of place compared to everyone else, his long black hair tied up in a ponytail. “ive got to go work for a bit, doll. enjoy my party with your friends, ill find you before the night is over.” he leans in, head turning at the last minute to press a delicate kiss to your cheek. 

rafe walks away and greets the man, his demeanor instantly changing from flirty and sultry to smiling and friendly as he claps hands with the new man, who you hear rafe call him barry.

“holy shit, holy shit!” tina runs up to you. you didn't even realize she was watching the entire interaction, so caught up in rafe.

“he wants to take me on a date!” you whisper-scream to tina, well aware that rafe is only on the other side of the room.

“you said yes, right?”

“girl, of course!” --

“hello beautiful.” rafe smiles as you open up the door. you’re glad that your parents are gone for the weekend. they never really care who you’re dating, having developed a lot of trust in you, but you didn’t even want to introduce them to rafe.

“hey rafe.” you smile back, accepting the kiss onto your cheek when he leans forward.

“got us a nice reservation at the country club.” rafe says, hand coming to the small of your back as he leads you towards his truck. he helps you climb in, not wanting you to fall in your heels.

“im really excited.” you admit after rafe rounds the hood and gets into the drivers seat, smoothly backing out of your long driveway.

“not nervous?” rafe questions, calling back to your meeting.

“im not buying drugs from you, so i think im okay.” you giggle, although you do have a bit of anxiety building, but only in the form of slight butterflies in your stomach.

“i like that you’re not a part of that scene.” rafe says, reaching over and looping your fingers together, resting your joined hands on the center console.

“you probably have a lot of girls try to date you to get stuff for free.” you assume.

“yeah.” he admits with a sigh. “don't get me wrong, i get it comes with what i do, but its frustrating to never know if someone is seriously into me.” you’re surprised by rafes confession, seemingly overly intimate and vulnerable for someone with his persona. you lean across the seats as he stops at a red light, pressing your lips to his cheek.

rafe smiles at you, squeezing your hand in appreciation. “can’t wait to kiss you when i drop you off back home.”

“talking about kissing me and haven’t even taken me on the actual date yet?” you say with a laugh.

“baby, i could take about eating you out or taking you from behind or kissing you. all of them are going to happen very soon.” your cheeks turn red as you swallow, suddenly turning silent as rafe pulls into the country club.

you’re not surprised how rafe is recepted as he leads you inside, the wait staff not even having to ask his name, already calling him mr. cameron before leading you towards the reserved table.

“this is really nice.” you admit with a whisper. you’ve never been inside of the country club before. you had heard that they have a pool, golf course, a bar restaurant area and then the fancier restaurant that you’re currently in, but you never had any reason to join.

“only the best for you, gorgeous.” rafe says with a smooth grin.

the dinner goes by just as smooth as his smile. its a set menu by the chef, but you found everything to be delicious, and feel perfectly filled by the end of it, not too stuffed but not hungry for more. you also feel like you know rafe much better, the conversation easily flowing.

its no surprise when rafe drives you back home that his hand lands on your thigh, even managing to creep underneath your skirt and touch your bare skin without you hollering and pushing his hand away like you would with any other guy.

“about that kiss…” rafe says when he gets you back home, standing on your doorstep.

“kiss and then what else were you talking about?” you hum, already knowing you’ve got a wet sport formed on your underwear just from his hand on your leg. “eating me out and taking me from behind?” “are you saying i can do all of those things tonight?” rafe smirks. he didn’t expect to get in your bed after one date, thinking he’d have to work a whole lot harder to convince you, but you are far too needy to deny him entry.

“i certainly won’t tell you no.” you smile, the grin quickly wiped off your face when rafe leans in, one hand on your cheek and the other moving to your waist, pulling you in tight to his body as his lips devour yours, mouth hot and wet against yours.

you fist a hand in his shirt, needing some sort of stabilization as you kiss for all your neighbors to see, moaning into his mouth when his hand moves lower to grip your ass, feeling the plump flesh under the fabric of your skirt.

you pull away from the kiss only to take a step backwards into the house, rafe quickly following you in. you practically race up to your room, trying not to seem too desperate.

the illusion is broken when rafe finally gets between your legs, having slowly undressed you and pressed kisses all over your body, showing special attention to your chest but ignoring your pussy until he was also naked, now laid between your spread thighs.

“such a pretty pussy for me baby.” rafe coos. “all mine now, understood?” “yeah, yeah.” you nod. “all yours.” you think to yourself that you will have to thank tina for begging you to pick up her drugs that day, and all the convincing shes done since as rafe leans forward, tongue swiping through your folds.

you let out a moan, hand reaching down to grip rafes hair as he moves upward, sucking your clit into his mouth.

yeah, you’ll definitely have to thank tina.

taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @forstarkey @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @buckyswhxre @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @wearemadeofstardust0 @leighbronk @starkeysheart @pradabambie

[multifariousqueer]

can you write miles 42 having readers bank account, card ALL that on his phone and gets mad if she purchases shi with money he didint give her. its really crazy but its miles 42....what do you expect??? hehe

Sure love!!!

A/n: y’all I love you so much but I need you guys to start requesting regular miles fanfic pls. Although 42 miles owns my 🩷

It was just a simple necklace. It was the Vivienne Westwood necklace that you saw everyone around you wearing and wanted so badly. You knew Miles would get it for you in a heartbeat but a part of you wanted to get it for yourself. It had been a long, stressful semester but you struggled through it all and got to a point where ou were passing with A’s and B’s. Coincidentally, you had gotten a job at Starbucks after months of applying and you had about $1000 saved up of your own money that you were waiting to spend on something special. That was, until that “something special” came along in the form of Miles.

You never knew what he did but you knew he was making 8x your salary in a month. It seemed like anything you wanted, you got when you were with Miles; shoes, clothes, books, makeup any and everything you wanted, it was yours in a matter of days. It’s worth mentioning that Miles is extremely overprotective and wants to know everything about what you’re doing and buying because he loves you and cares about your habits.

Even on Miles’s birthday when you dipped into your savings to get him the latest Jordan’s, he was furious that you had to use your own money:

“Damn Ma, these are valid. How much were they?”

“Oh don’t worry about it” you said

“I said, how much were they.” His eyes narrowing in on you because he knew how much they were because he was gonna buy them 2 weeks ago but decided not to.

“$500. I’ve been saving for them for you, baby. It’s all good” you tried to assure him

“Aight. thank you.” He said, pulling you close to him, the scent of the Dior Sauvage cologne you also bought him, filling your nostrils

But deep down you knew he was pissed off and mad that you spent your own money, so after a long talk about how he should be able to keep tabs on you and keep you safe, you gave him your Apple Pay and banking info for emergencies only but of course it’s Miles and being the overprotective boyfriend he is, he checks it everyday for any “extravagant purchases” made by you or someone else.

Of course he isn’t crazy, he set a $25 limit for you before he steps in and asks what’s up. Once, you were at a mall with your friend and found the cutest shirt at Urban Outfitters and decided to buy it. The price tag read $50 but you went ahead and got it; the same happened at Bath and Body Works and Tilly’s and as you made your way to the bathroom, you got a text from Miles:

Miles: did someone take your card?

You: no why??

Miles: why’d you spend $150 in an hour??

You: I’m at the mall

Miles: so? I pay for your shit

You: dawg it’s $150. It’s not that deep 💀

Miles: I ain’t yo “dawg” and yes it is when Yk I buy you shit

You: you aren’t my sugar daddy

Miles: I basically am atp. I’m sending you $1000, buy something cute

You contemplated leaving him on seen but you remembered how he hates that so you replied:

You: Okay

You had saved up enough to get the necklace and when you got it, you were ecstatic. You thought about all of the possible outfit combos and how good it will look against your brown skin but your thoughts were interrupted by a certain someone:

Miles: what’d I tell you, Mami?

You: ?

Miles: don’t play dumb, yk I would’ve bought you that necklace in a heartbeat but instead you wanted to be miss independent and buy it yourself. I guess since you’re so independent, I’ll stop sending you that $1000 every week. How about that?

You: ok

Miles: ?

You: we can discuss this when I get home

Miles: K

You: k

It was a long ride home but eventually you accepted that Miles was gonna rip your head off and there wasn’t anything you could do about it.

When you got home, he had three of the necklaces, two huge teddy bears, a bouquet of your favorite flowers and the newest pair of Jordan’s waiting for you:

“What’s all this?” You smiled and asked

“I told you I’ll pay for your shit, y/n” miles said, with a small smirk on his face

[two-calicos-in-a-trenchcoat]

Got chewby a new tug and some Christmas dog biscuits that look like donuts (we have mini donuts a lot but they usually have chocolate on them so we can't share with her so I thought it would be fun to get donuts that she CAN have)

And got harely a couple new toys. There's this springy toy that I thought she would like but it makes a squeaky sound when it moves (which I did not realize when I bought it) and shes a little afraid of it. And a rubbery ball with feathers on the ends that I didn't know if she would like but so far its her favorite. AND I found these cat treats that look and feel like chocolate that are made of beef fat and ive had to hide them from her cuz she was trying to tear open the box to get more.

[latetaektalk]

love to hate you | jjk [vii]

“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!

“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.

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?”

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.”

“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.

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.

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.

→ thanks for reading !! if you have any thoughts, id love to hear it!

[darkbluekies]

Hey blue! How are you? I just wanted to say that i LOVE your OC Hedwig. When could we get more of her please? (Oh and i'm not forcing you to write about her right away ofc, take your time!!<33)

Let her burn

Female!yandere x reader

Summary: someone is trying to take you from Hedwig, and she will not allow it, she will watch them burn.

Warnings: basically assault, reader blaming themselves, arson, public humiliation, hitmen, bully mentality, fake friends

Word count: 3.4k

The sun is out for once and everyone in school — even the ones you would classify as allergic to the sun — is outside in the school yard. You and Hedwig’s group of popular rats have occupied one of the tables with benches. You're sitting on the bench and Hedwig right above you on the table with her face turned upwards, eyes closed. The others talk about parties they're invited to, what they're going to buy with the money they've made, what clothes look good and what makes them nauseous — extra points if the clothes already exist on a person in a fifteen meter radius.

You stand up. Hedwig turns down her head and looks at you through her sunglasses.

“I'll go buy a juice from the vending machine”, you say. “The sun makes me thirsty.”

She's about to grab her handbag and join you, but you shake your head.

“You can stay, I'll be back in a minute”, you say.

“Are you sure?” she asks hesitantly. 

You nod and turn to walk before she has a chance to protest. You need to get away from Hedwig and her friends' constant shittalk. You've never heard Hedwig join in on their degrading teasing, but she has her own reasons for you wanting some minutes to yourself. Reasons that others are jealous of you for. 

You walk into the school and breathe out, run your hand through your hair. Deciding that if you don't want Hedwog to suspect that you ditched her and her friends because of their presence, you make your way through the empty corridors to the vending machine and take out the wallet that Hedwig gifted you. You pop a few coins into the slot and hover your finger over the juice option.

“Y/N”, a voice says.

You turn your head to one of the girls that hang out in Hedwig’s group, Noelle. She's in the cheerleading team — captain, even, if you're not mistaken — and is always judging the other girls on the team. You hear about it at lunch every single day. Confused, you look at her. What could she want you? She has never wanted to speak with you before, always pretended that you don’t exist … or at least that’s what you thought. 

“Uhm … hi”, you say and glance behind you, to see if someone else had sent her. 

“‘Uhm … hi’”, she chuckles, taking a step forward. “Is that the best you can do after all the time we’ve spent together? You act if this is the first time we’ve met.”

“Technically it is. You’ve never tried to speak to me before.”

“And you’ve never tried to speak with me either, not only my fault.”

You turn around and press the right button for the juice and watch it fall down from its shelf. You can hear Noelle move closer behind you and you’re not sure why your heart skips a beat, and why you’re suddenly on high alert. Maybe it has something to do with the students who have hurt you because of your relationship with Hedwig, or maybe the fact that you know how Noelle acts. You’ve never liked her. 

“You know … if Hedwig hadn’t been so quick to snatch you, I’d given you a shot”, she says, suddenly too close to you for your liking. 

You can’t help but be … surprised? 

“Really?” you question before you have time to stop yourself. 

“Of course”, Noelle says as if it was obvious and that you were stupid for not recognizing it, making you feel stupid.  

“I uh … didn’t know.”

Noelle scoffs out a laugh and you want nothing more than to leave, but you don’t want to be impolite to her, don’t want to give her a reason to talk bad about you … but you have a feeling that’s going to be inevitable. You squeeze the juice packet like a stressball. 

“We should go back out”, you say and try to walk past her, but she grabs your arm. 

“I won’t get to talk to you while we’re out there”, she complaints. “Hedwig’s so fucking insecure. She can’t even let you talk to anyone else without becoming jealous.”

You’ve never been this uncomfortable before. You’re frozen in place, confused on what to do. Noelle is Hedwig’s friend and you don’t want to upset her, but you don’t wish to conversate with her any longer. 

You only manage to mutter one excuse that actually lets you go. “I have to pee.”

“Two deciliters of sugar …”, Hedwig reads aloud and grabs the sugar package. “Should we do a little more? Just in case? I don’t want the pie to become bitter.”

“Why would it be bitter?” you question from the other side of the kitchen aisle. 

Hedwig looks up from the deciliter cup she’s holding, looking clueless. “Rhubarb is bitter, isn’t it?”

“Yes, but I don’t think the pie will be bitter.”

“Let’s just add a little more … just in case.”

Your eyes glue onto the trees outside the window, replaying today’s events. You haven’t told Hedwig about yours and Noelle’s conversation, not sure if you should. Hedwig can’t stand knowing that other people could have an interest in you, and she can’t let things go easily. If you tell her this, that could be harmless, she might go around dreading it for weeks … which will go out on you too. But it feels wrong to keep it to yourself. Noelle basically hit on you … shouldn’t you let your girlfriend know? But what if Hedwig thinks that you liked having Noelle basically hit on you? What if she becomes mad at you? 

“Sweetheart?”

You flinch and look up. Hedwig’s looking at you with worried eyes from across the kitchen aisle. 

“You aren’t listening”, she says quietly and lets go of the whisk. “Are you okay? Did something happen?”

“No”, you say and shake your head. “I’m just tired. My head hurts.”

You lower your head to avoid looking at her. You feel dirty, somehow, as if you have betrayed her even though you didn’t want to talk to Noelle. Besides, you didn’t do anything, right? Why can’t you look her in the eye? 

Hedwig walks around the kitchen aisle and cups your cheeks in her hands, directing it up to her. She runs one of her hands through your hair. 

“My poor girl/boy”, she coos with a pout. “Do you want something? A cup of tea?”

You nod. Hedwig smiles and lets you go. She walks over to the marble kitchen counter and turns on the kettle. You’re presented with a cup of breakfast tea just a few minutes later. Hedwig hugs you from behind and kisses your cheek before leaning her chin on your shoulder. 

“You will get some rhubarb pie soon, okay?” she says. 

You nod. Hedwig continues to whisk things together as you watch and slowly sip your tea. A message notification pops up on your phone, from an instagram profile you recognize. You don’t follow it, because you’re not allowed to follow anyone else but Hedwig and your family, but you see who does. The profile picture is taken on school grounds, in the cheerleading uniform. 

“meet me tmr in the music room at 11 i wanna tell you something”

You stare at your screen, feeling your body go numb. 

“Y/N!” 

You flinch again and look up to meet Hedwig’s eyes. They’re burning with rage and worry. 

“Why aren’t you listening to me?” she asks and frowns. “I’m talking to you.”

“I’m sorry”, you reply. “What did you say?”

“Can you open the oven?”

You get up from your chair and walks over to the oven, grabbing the handle. 

“Be really careful”, Hedwig says. “It’s hot. Don’t burn yourself.”

You open the oven, but your hand lingers for too long, burning the side of it. You shriek and jump back, clutching it with your other hand. 

“Oh, my Gosh, Y/N!” Hedwig exclaims and rushes the pie into the oven. “I told you to be careful!”

She closes the oven and hurries to wash your hand under a stream of cold water. 

“What is with you today?” she asks worriedly. “You’re not yourself.”

“I’m just tired”, you lie. 

“Is that all? Really?”

“And my head hurts. I told you.”

“Y/N-”

“I just need to rest.”

Hedwig sighs and pulls you with her to the bathroom where you’re sat down on the toilet seat while she looks for bandaids. You feel oh, so guilty. Hedwig takes care of your hand and gives it a soft kiss. She looks you in the eye in a way that makes your stomach twist. You want to tell her about her friend, but you can’t predict the outcome. 

“You would tell me if there was something going on … wouldn’t you?” she asks slowly. 

You can’t bring yourself to answer. If you open your mouth, your voice will fail you. Instead, you choke back your words and give her a small nod. It looks like she wants to say something, tell you that she doesn’t believe you, but keeps quiet. 

She curls up closely in your arms that night. If you try to remove your arms, she’s quick to pull them back, as if she’s assuring herself that you’re still here — with her. She’s always curled up in your arms at night, with her head on your chest, but tonight her embrace feels even tighter. 

The days go by. Noelle seem to pop up whenever you’re alone, which has made you stay closer to Hedwig than usual. She doesn’t seem to mind it. She holds your hand while talking to someone else, nuzzles up in class, always keeping close. But she looks at you in a way you can’t understand, as if she’s waiting for you to say something, impatient yet scared of what’s to come. 

And one day, when you’re walking to the bathroom, you hear her voice again. 

“Stop ignoring me”, Noelle says angrily. 

You turn around to look at her and gulp. Why do you feel so small? Why does she scare you?

“I’m not ignoring you”, you say exhaustedly. “I just don’t want to talk to you. We have nothing to discuss. Why do you keep on insisting?”

“Because I know that I’m a much better girlfriend than Hedwig could ever be. I want to be your girlfriend.”

“Okay? But I don’t want you-”

“You don’t seem happy with Hedwig anyway.”

You flinch. “That has nothing to do with you, so please just let it be. I want to be left alone. Things will be weird in the group if you continue with this.”

“I'm not the one making it weird, if you just accepted to talk with me then-”

“You don't want to talk about anything, though? You just want me to break up with Hedwig! I’m going back now. Move”

Suddenly everything feels too fast. Noelle grabs you and pushes you up against the wall. You yelp and try to push her off, but her cheerleading activities have built her muscles that overpower you. For a moment, you’re absolutely terrified. Before she has the chance to do anything, however, she's ripped off of you and thrown to the side. Shocked, you look to the side, seeing your girlfriend walk in front of you — which, if anything, makes you even more shocked. You have never been happier for Hedwig’s clingy behavior.

“No, get your fucking hands off of them!” she exclaims jarringly and gives Noelle a harsh push to make sure that she gets farther away from you. “Back off! Are you out of your mind?! Who do you think you are, touching my boyfriend/girlfriend? Absolutely insane! Have you no fucking manners?”

She takes up her phone in her shaking hands, about to call her father.

“I regret ever befriending you, oh my God”, she spits. “I will make sure you pay for this-”

“No, wait, Hedwig”, Noelle pleads, suddenly pathetically aware of what she’s done. “I'm sorry.”

“Oh, so now you’re sorry, huh?” She looks up from her phone, shooting lightening at the other girl. “Not when you texted my girlfriend/boyfriend behind my back? Or when you demanded them to break up with me? But now that you’re caught you’re sorry?! You absolute scum.”

She had seen the messages? You lower your eyes, feeling that horrible shame creep back. 

“I don’t ever want to see you near them again”, Hedwig spits. “Trust me, I will let everyone know what you’ve tried to do. Believe me.”

“I won’t do it again”, Noelle says quickly. “Hedwig, please, come on-”

Hedwig grabs your hand tightly and pushes past her. 

“Move”, she demands darkly and drags you out into the sunlight. 

Hedwig doesn’t let you go until she has pulled you far away from all the other students, until you’re hiding by the canteen delivery entrance. Hedwig is shaking from head to toe, her hands trembling too much to navigate her phone. She sobs harshly, tapping the screen violently until she throws it against the ground with a scream. You flinch. 

“H-Hedwig …”, you say hesitantly. “I’m sorry.”

Hedwig’s eyes dart at you in disbelief, offended that you even thought that any of this oculd be your fault. 

“N-No, Y/N-”, she sobs, choking on her own tears. She grabs your hands before rambling. “You didn’t do anything wrong, I’m not mad at you, I promise.”

“How did you … know?”

Hedwig wipes her runny nose with the sleeve of her school uniform and hiccups through sobs. “W-When you were sleeping I went into your phone, because I thought that you were acting strange and—and I saw her messages. And when I saw that she went after you to the bathroom I had a feeling that she would—would do something. I’m going to make her pay. I’m going to ruin her life.”

“Isn’t that a bit extreme?”

Hedwig shakes her head firmly. She hugs you tightly, hiding her face into your shoulder. You’re unsure what to do, but eventually place your arms around her. 

“I w-want to go home”, she sobs. “I don’t feel well.”

And you do. 

Hedwig sits down on her bed, clutching her phone in her hand. You can’t catch her attention, even though you try to call out her name. 

“Hedwig, what are you doing?” you ask for the fifth time. 

Finally, she looks up from her phone. 

“I’m telling everyone in the groupchat”, she says. “I promised that everyone will know what Noelle did.”

With Hedwig’s contacts, soon the entire school will know, you think. 

“She made a mistake”, you say. “A very idiotic mistake, but is it really worth this?”

“She was a friend”, Hedwig spat. “She knows very well that you and I are dating and she decides to just … disregard that? No, she deserves it all.”

You can feel the air in the room get switched with something poisonous. You can’t breathe. 

“I think I should go home”, you say and get up from the armchair. 

Hedwig’s head flinches up towards you. 

“No!” she gasps. “Please don’t go!”

She lets go of the phone, sprints up from the bed and hugs you. 

“Please stay”, she begs weakly. “Please.”

“I can’t take more of this silence.”

“I-I’ll put on a movie! You can watch whatever you want, just please stay here. Don’t go.”

You’re soon cuddled up in bed with Hedwig having her arms around yours, still tapping away on her phone in silence. 

The very next day when you come to school, everything seem to have changed. People are looking at the two of you and you can tell, by the pitiful looks in their eyes, that they know what happened yesterday. Even though it wasn’t your fault, you feel like you’re in the wrong and that everyone else think so too. 

You meet up with Hedwig’s friend group who immediately tells her how they've always thought that there was something off with Noelle and how disgusting she is. Yesterday, they all loved her. And suddenly they have felt off about her for so long? You fight the urge to roll your eyes. 

You look at Hedwig in disbelief. Do you hear this?

Her eyes twitched. Oh yeah. 

Her grip on your hand tightens. 

While you’re talking, you see how Noelle enters the school yard. She has dark circles under her eyes and looks … small. You almost feel bad for her. The group gives her nasty looks. 

You don’t see the small ‘I-told-you-so’ smile on Hedwig’s face. She drinks it all in, sunbathes in her misery. But it’s not enough. She has humiliated her in front of the entire school and ruined her reputation … but it’s not enough. The sight of her makes Hedwig’s blood boil. She wants her gone, removed out of her sight. Wants her dead. 

She had promised herself not to do it again, but she can’t let Noelle come and go like this. What if she somehow manages to fix her life and reputation? What if she starts a new school and no one knows about what she’s done and starts to like her? She has to disappear. 

Hedwig looks at you and sighs. You are worth it.

“I have to go to the bathroom”, she whispers. “Can you come with me?”

You nod. While Hedwig goes into the bathroom, she takes up her phone and calls the number she has hidden away behind a contact name called ‘Abbe’s Bakery’. She holds the phone to her ear. But this contact is neither named Abbe or owns a bakery. 

“Hedwig, it was a long time ago”, a male voice says on the other side of the line. “Why do you suddenly need me again?”

“My relationship is threatened again”, she says in a hushed tone. “I need to get rid of the threat. You have to help me.”

“Sure, what do you want me to do?”

“I want you to burn her in.”

That night when you’re sleeping soundly beside her, she crawls out of bed, making sure not to wake you. Oh, God, if she wakes you … she wouldn't forgive herself. You look absolutely gorgeous when sleeping. No soul in the world is allowed to disturb your peaceful slumber. Hedwig wants nothing more than to cuddle up beside you, hold you tightly in her arms and drift away to another dimension, but she has to make sure the girl pays for what she did.

“I'll be back soon”, Hedwig whispers, knowing full well that you can't hear her. “I will make sure nothing ever happens to you. You will never have to worry as long as I am here.”

She kisses your forehead as softly as she possibly can to not wake you up. She tucks you in and sneaks out of her room. Her heart swells with adoration for you. It only makes her more certain. She has to do this — for you. For your safety. And for her own sanity.

Hedwig wears a black hoodie, pulls the hood over her head and makes sure that none of her hair will be visible and quietly makes her way out of the mansion and runs past the gates. She doesn't take a car or scooter, scared that any security cameras in the city will catch her registration. She runs through the night, not wanting to miss the show. The only thing keeping her company is the sound of her own breathing and her shoes hitting the asphalt underneath her. 

She arrives just in time. Red, yellow and orange flames has started to lick at the house on the other side of the road and is quickly embracing it. The flames climb higher, reaching for the moon. Hedwig can hear screams from inside, hears glass being broken … and all she does is smile. She revels in the sight. 

You deserve it, Hedwig thinks. You should never have tried to take my partner from me. 

She decides to leave before neighbors and firefighters start to come running. It’s with a smile that Hedwig returns to her room and takes you in her arms. You whimper in your sleep and she’s quick to hush and stroke your hair. 

“Don’t wake up, it’s okay”, she whispers and kisses your cheek. “Everything is okay now, you’re safe. You’re okay.”

She smiles widely. Everything is okay now. 

[commodorez]

Strange question, but I'm curious. Do you have a least favourite computer?

Ohhhh, good one. I'm going to make some enemies for these, I'm sure.

Least favorite vintage computer:

Apple I

Not for any technical reasons, or anything about its history. I happen to like and respect Steve Wozniak, and everything he did in the service of computing in the 1970s. His ROM monitor known as WOZMON is only 256 bytes so it can fit into a first generation 1702A EPROM, which is damned impressive. I use the newer EWOZMON regular basis on other 6502 machines.

The Apple I exemplifies a computer that no longer exists as a computer. Rather, it's become the legendary trading card for the ultrawealthy techbro types who seek to commodify the history of the home computer revolution that they didn't bother to study. It's been reduced to no more than a static display piece, and a cornerstone of revisionist history, ignoring the larger picture.

An Apple I is considered too monetarily valuable to risk applying power to or fixing, "gotta leave it original!" with failed, leaky capacitors, doing nothing. Well if you can't use it, it ceases to be a computer because it isn't computing anything. They had almost a dozen of them at VCF West XIV, most of which were under plexiglass with a hired guard to keep an eye on them because the high price they fetch. Only one was powered up at a time under the watchful gaze of experts, handling things with museum gloves. Unlike other exhibits, these were not available to be touched or interacted with (which defeats the whole reason people enjoy vintage computer festivals).

Assuming you look beyond the hype, and get your hands on a working Apple I? It turns out to be quite underpowered and limited -- which makes sense, Woz was optimizing the shit outta his part count and budget! I wish I had his skills. It was a major technical achievement to get it to do that much with so little. It's a TV Typewriter (RIP Don Lancaster) bolted to a minimal 6502. If i had one at my disposal in the 1970s, I'd probably do like the contemporary hackers did and modify it as my budget and skills allowed. But it's 2024 and an Apple I -- you aren't allowed to do that. No, if I had an Apple I, I could sell it and buy a house with that money.

If it weren't for all that, I think I'd probably just be indifferent to it, or maybe even like it for what it is.

Least favorite general computer:

eMachines eTower 600is

What a piece of shit. I had one when it was new, running Windows ME and it was hot garbage. I could not stand this underpowered excuse for a computer after a few months when the new computer sheen wore off. Floppy drive died too soon. Didn't come with the advertised 64MB of RAM (who puts 33MB of RAM in a computer?). Hard drive was only 10GB, kept filling it up. It was filled with bloatware, the keyboard was cheap garbage. I don't begrudge my parents for buying it, they didn't know any better and I was too young to have any say in the matter. That said, it endured the shortest tenure of any computer in my house to date.

Never obsolete my ass.

[gatorbites-imagines]

Hmmmm 👁️🫦👁️ yandere Doflamingo X from male reader who develops stockholm syndrome (I'm it isn't scientific but it's helpful ;-;) and ends up slowly warming up to/falling in love with him?

Doffy can be sickly sweet, always holding reader close, lavishing them with praise and buying things for them, but when reader tried to escape or got -what Doflamingo thought- was too close to someone else, he gets kinda dark. Cue some kind of punishment followed by him acting all good cop and doting on reader.

Some fluff/smut peppered in if that's okay 😭

Hope this is alright and doesn't break any of the rules

Yandere Donquixote Doflamingo x male reader

Headcanons

Tw for darker stuff ig? I love Doffy, hes my little crazy muffin. Probably not the best Stockholm syndrome, mainly just the reader being dumb and easily manipulated.

i feel like my obsession with doffys tongue is visible in this... exposing myself.

Doflamingo is known for being a master manipulator, so once he turns his attention to you and wants you for himself, he will have you one way or another. Theres a big chance you won’t even realize what’s happening until its way too late, and you are completely caught in his web of strings.

You had just been the average dock worker, working for one of the many companies working under The Joker in the underworld, smuggling all kinds of stuff. It was never your job to question what you were shipping, and not asking questions meant you got to stay alive.

You just happened to be at the wrong place at the same time. You just happened to be dumb enough to not have a sense of self preservation. You just happened to not recognize the 10 ft tall blonde in a pink feathery coat and goofy sunglasses. And you just happened to look so… cute.

You didn’t really have any friends on this island. It wasn’t the place you got close to anybody, and you sure as hell never trusted anybody, as everyone here was some kind of criminal. You were one of the few who wasn’t a blood thirsty psycho. You just had been given a bad hand in life and a lot of bad luck.

When the tall blonde started appearing near the docks on the regular, you didn’t question it. Questions should never be placed, and even though you had no idea who he was, everyone else seemed to fear him. So, no matter how handsome he was, you tried to stay out of his way.

You were a clumsy fool. It had resulted in a lot of punishment and beatings, but to Doflamingo, you were just so adorable. Like watching a little lamb running around thinking they were safe from the pack of blood thirsty wolves always circling.

When gifts started appearing in your dorm, as you were so low ranked in the system that you didn’t even have enough money for your own place, you didn’t know what to do.

You had never owned expensive things, so you knew nothing about the quality of things you were given. You didn’t understand just how expensive the shirt you were given was, or that the bracelets that looked a little too much like shackles cost more than someone like you would ever see in their life.

The gifts kept coming, and somehow your roommates disappeared, leaving the room all for you. One day when returning from the docks, it had even been redecorated. You almost had a heart attack, thinking someone else had moved in. But when you asked your superior, they had just glanced around nervously and said it was for you and to not question it.

Through all of this, Doflamingo watched your every move. From the moment you got up in the morning till you went to bed, and sometimes even as you slept.

Being who he was, Doflamingo had nothing against sneaking into your room as you slept, just so he could watch you. Or if he was feeling starved enough, he would lean down and kiss you, sometimes letting that long monster of a tongue slide into your mouth for just a small taste.

Before you knew it you were pretty much Doflamingos property. In the beginning you didn’t wear any of the fancy clothes or jewelry, not wanting to dirty any of it. But from one day to the next, all your old clothes went away, leaving you with only the clothes so expensive the majority of the world could only dream about owning it.

You didn’t understand why most of it bore a specific shade of pink, or that the symbol sewn into most of the clothes in one way or another was a jolly roger. You, in your oblivious mind, just thought it was a brand or print.

Doflamingo couldn’t help but feel pleased as everyone stared at you with fear and dread, avoiding you every chance they got, as everyone but you seemed to know you were his, and his alone.

You were right where he wants you, and little by little, Doflamingo would insert himself into your life. At first, you’d see him in passing, but soon you would see him every shift and you two would talk.

You were so concentrated with working that you didn’t notice how he always seemed to stare at you, and if he hadn’t worn sunglasses, you might have seen how he so rarely blinked, as if wanting to eat you up.

At some point he just happens to “offer you a job”, giving you the job of a lifetime. Doflamingo could almost have writhed in pleasure when you agreed, smiling so brightly and looking so deliciously stupid, to him at least.

All the many mysterious gifts you were given were moved, and soon you worked right under Doflamingo. Maybe as his assistant or something like that, some job where you would be right by him every day. Of course, you weren’t actually do any work that mattered, he just gave you fluffy paperwork that would be thrown out, since there was nothing of importance on them.

From then on you gave you his presents in person, leering and grinning when you became flustered and stuttered before giving a shy thanks.

Everyone in the donquixote family knew you were off limits as they saw the possessive look Doflamingo always gave you, or how he would pull you into his lap and claim there weren’t any more seats, using his strings to whisk whatever chairs were around away.

Working for Doflamingo, you ended up growing, what should I say, used to the treatment. You had come to expect his praise and lingering touches, or the gifts hed rain down on you. So when he kissed you the first time, you weren’t too surprised.

Sure you still blushed up a storm, but it had all seemed to lead up to this. To you, who still had no idea of Doflamingos darker side, thought he may just have been shy and expressed his feelings for you through gifts.

When you guys started “officially” dating, he got worse, or better, depending on who asks. I’m putting officially in quotations, as to Doflamingo you had always been his.

Forget about any type of work you were doing before, you were always seated in his lap now, wearing the clothes he picked out for you, and being a good little lover for him.

Dating Doflamingo also meant you quickly got used to gagging, since he’s the type of guy that always tries to shove his tongue down your throat, and with Doflamingo having the tongue he does, he actually succeeds in doing so.

Hes sickeningly sweet to you, fawning over you and piling praise on you, his large hands wandering and making you see stars whenever you are even a little bit in the mood. Its because of this it takes you so very long to realize what kind of monster he is.

The reveal was never meant to happen, but you somehow ended up at the wrong place at the wrong time, and you got to see Doflamingos true colors. Seeing him tear someone apart with his strings, that large grin on his face, made you feel sick.

After that you grew distant, and Doflamingo pouted and kissed your face all over, trying to get him to tell you what was wrong. But you never told him, just shrinking away from him, as the seriousness of the situation finally seemed to dawn on you.

Even to you, who wasn’t the smartest person around by far, it all seemed to click into place. From your job, to your clothes, to how everyone seemed to avoid you, isolating you to under interact with Doflamingo.

You needed to get you, that’s what you became sure of. Its only because Doflamingo never thought you’d actually try to leave that you got the upper hand. In the end you didn’t even get off the island, but you were smart enough to get out of his base and to the docks where you had worked before.

But as you were about to board a ship to get outta there, strings seemed to cage in the entire island, like a birdcage. Doflamingo had realized you were gone, and he was pissed.

Before you knew it, conquerors haki covered the entire island, knocking you out almost immediately, but not before you felt your heart sink to the bottom of your feet, the reality of Doflamingos strength finally hitting you.

When you wake up again, you find yourself in Doflamingos bedroom, golden shackles similar to the bracelets you were given keeping you locked to the bed.

It takes you a moment to notice him, but when you do you almost throw up from the fear it causes. There in the corner sits Doflamingo, but for the first time since you’ve met him, he looks angry. No, he doesn’t look angry, he looks enraged.

He doesn’t even demand an answer from you as to why you tried to run. He just gets to his feet and approaches you, and for the first time his 10 feet of height scares you. But then he doesn’t something unexpected. He cradles your face in his hands and coos at you, treating you as if you were some kind of child or animal that had broken the rules, not because you wanted too, but because you were so very dumb you didn’t realize you broke them.

All these months of being with Doflamingo from morning till dawn as caused you to love him, its no secret. Its just a reaction of the human psyche, so part of you had been scared of disappointing him. It also makes your insides flutter at his cooing, even as he calls you a brainless stupid idiot who can’t think for themselves.

All his cooing and sugar sweet but cruel words makes you cry, making Doflamingo smirk when you sob into his chest, apologizing for running away. When you agree with him that you are stupid and can’t make decisions on your own, he knows he’s won. Well, he’s known he’s had you for months, but seeing you admit it is euphoric.

Doflamingo ends up holding you in his arms and cooing at you, pouting and sounding of so sweet as you cry, telling you he forgives you. But there must be consequences, and you have to be punished.

You’ve never been punished by Doflamingo before, so you have no idea what to expect. Knowing the kind of role Doflamingo wants to play, the punishment is probably something along the lines of overstimulation until you pass out, and when you wake up, he will do it again and again, repeating the process until he feels you’ve paid for your sins.

When hes strung you of everything you’ve got and you cant even think straight, he would pick you up and kiss you all over, praising you in that sickeningly sweet honey voice of his, carrying you to his personal bathroom.

Here he would get both of you into his large bathtub, where he would scrub your limp and hickey covered body dry as you whine and whimper, almost melting against his chest as his large hands massage all your sore muscles.

As you bathe, you most likely end up with him fucking your thighs, Doflamingo cooing in your ear that he will have mercy on your cute little holes for now, since they’re still so sensitive from your punishments. But next time he won’t be as lenient.

As he slides his shaft between your thighs, Doflamingo would slide his tongue down your throat again, smirking to himself as you jolt and twitch, still arching into his touch even as your body ached and burned from all the overstimulation.

After he finishes, he would praise you more before getting out of the bath, where he would dry you off in the softest of towels, before Doflamingo would tuck you both into bed. You would pass out immediately again, slumping against his chest as Doflamingo laughs, rubbing your back and kissing the top of your head.

He loves you, as much as someone like Doflamingo could love. And because he loves you, he owns you. That’s his logic at least. This also means you will never be allowed to leave, and no one will ever be allowed to take you away. And he will do everything in his power to make it a reality.